A Fabrication of the Truth (16 page)

I awoke the next morning by way of my grandma shaking me. “Why do I have to go?” I whined.

“You need something to keep you busy.”

“It’s not like I’ll be able to focus.”

“He’s okay. He’ll be just fine.”

“But it’s still risky for him.”

“He’s a strong kid. Think of everything he’s pulled himself through already.”

“What if this is too much for him?” I asked, sitting up and stretching my arms over my head.

“He’s not going to give up fighting now, especially since he has you.”

“I don’t know if he feels like that anymore.”

“You’ll just have to ask him later today.”

I dragged myself upstairs and realized Caroline didn’t know what happened. I sat on my floor, leaned back on my bed, and texted her.

Guess what?

What?

Dalton got hit by a car last night.

What?!

Yeah. He’s okay. Needs surgery on his leg. Broken femur.

Shit.

Talk more at school.

You coming?

Yeah.

I pulled on some pants and slipped a random shirt over my head. It was wrinkly and might have smelled a bit because it was on my floor near some old socks, but I didn’t really care if I smelled like a sock. I didn’t even take a shower, but at least I brushed my teeth.

“Bye, Grandma,” I said, opening the front door.

“You need to eat, Lexie.”

“Not hungry.”

“Don’t care. Wait a minute.”

My grandma came out of the kitchen and handed me a small, brown, paper bag.

“Thanks, Grandma.”

“It’ll be okay, kiddo,” she said, hugging me.

I nodded and left, slowly walking down the block to the bus stop. It was a cold morning, so I wrapped my scarf around me an extra time and took in a lungful of cold air, reminding me of the breath I took when I stepped into that alley. I had too many negative images of Dalton in my head. I tried to picture him singing, holding me close, his constant boner hard against my leg – but all I saw was him in pain. It would be a long day.

I waited about five minutes for the bus, but it might as well have been five hours. Each passing minute lasted an eternity. I pulled my phone out of my backpack as I sat down on the bus, checking my messages and knowing I wouldn’t have any yet because Dalton was still in surgery. I just hoped to see something comforting, words that would make everything better.

“You look awful,” Caroline said as soon as she saw me at school.

“I’m exhausted and there’s this ache in my chest.”

“Oh, honey,” Caroline said, hugging me. She pulled out of the hug, holding my shoulders. “Tell me everything.”

We sat down side by side in the hall, and I told her about mine and Dalton’s evening.

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“He seems doomed like the fates are out to get him,” Caroline said, always her ever-dramatic self.

“I really hope not.”

“He’s a trooper.”

“He really is.”

“And a bit of a badass.”

I laughed. “I don’t know if I’d say that. He just does what he wants despite what he’s told.”

“I think that makes him a badass.”

“Okay.”

Caroline smiled.

“He looked so good up there on stage. It seems so natural for him,” I said, the thought of him happy and doing what he loved making me feel a bit better.

“Maybe that’s where he’s meant to be.”

“I think so. I hope his family realizes that. I’m afraid they’re never going to let him out of the house again.”

“What about his probation?”

“Rick – that’s his probation officer – said it’s up to the court. But he doesn’t think they’ll be too harsh on him.” I ran into Rick before we left the hospital, and he said that community service would be the most likely outcome for Dalton’s probation violations – at least that’s what he hoped.

“I hope not.”

“Yeah. His mom said she’s sorry for keeping us apart, so if things smooth over between Dalton and I, we might be able to spend more time together instead of always sneaking around.”

“That’d be good.”

“It would be.”

“Let’s get to class, girly.”

“Okay. Thanks, Caroline. You’ve really been here for me.”

“You’re welcome. But seriously, I have a test today in my first class.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

I got a text during English:
Surgery went well. In recovery, resting.

I let out a huge sigh of relief.

***

I went straight to the hospital after school. I wanted to leave school early, but I figured I’d give Dalton some time to rest.

“You look good in a surgical mask,” Dalton said as I walked into his room. The doctors and nurses wanted to keep any risk of infection at bay, so everybody had to wear a mask and disinfect their hands – and he could only have one visitor at a time.

“I pull off most looks. How you feeling?” Which was a dumb question because just by looking at him, I could tell he felt like crap. Besides the bandage and stiches that he already had, bruises had popped up all over that same side of his face, which had swelled. He had black circles under his eyes, which greatly contrasted his unusually pale skin. IVs, tubes, and wires hung everywhere, along with some insistent beeping.

“Like a million bucks.”

I forced a smile even though he couldn’t see it. “Why do things suck?” I asked. I wanted to crawl up on the bed with him and hug him and squish him, but I was so afraid I’d hurt his leg. I was almost scared to get too close – scared he’d catch something from me and get an infection.

Dalton shrugged. “Sometimes, things just happen. I don’t have the best of luck.”

“Maybe I’m a bad luck charm. These things happen when I’m around.”

“Not true.”

I took in a breath. “I’m starting to realize that you might actually be correct. These things just happened.”

“That makes me happy,” he said, sighing. “Lexie…” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.

“I’m right here for you,” I said, reaching out and gently grabbing his hand. Once I had it, I didn’t want to let go.

“I know, but I’ve been lying here thinking maybe I need some time to think.”

“Think?”

“Yeah, my head is kinda messed up right now, and not just because of the concussion.”

“What exactly does some time to think entail?”

“Some time apart.”

“So are we officially broken up?”

“Just some time apart.”

I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t believe it.

“I promise it has nothing to do with you.”

“It feels like it has everything to do with me.”

“Come here,” Dalton said, waving me toward him.

I leaned in, and he wrapped his hand around the back of my neck. “I love you.”

“Then this makes no sense.”

“I know.”

“Then let’s not take a break.”

“Lexie…”

“Is it about what I said at school? I know it sounded bad, but I didn’t mean it.”

“I know, I know. You might have doubted us, but I never did.”

“Then why, Dalton?” I sounded so needy and whiney, but I wanted him, not some so-called break.

“I just need some time for myself. All right?” Dalton said, his eyes starting to droop.

I nodded. “Get some rest.”

“Okay.”

“Do you want me to visit?”

“Only if you want to.”

I nodded again and hugged him, my head on his chest. “Bye, Dalton.”

“Bye,” he said, his eyes already closed.

The good-bye felt too final. I didn’t like the situation one bit, and as I walked out of his room, I bumped into Kristin. She might have been trying to help, but she only made the situation worse.

“Hey, Lexie,” she said, giving me a frown.

“Hi,” I said, already not liking Kristin’s tone.

“I heard some of what he said.”

“You were listening?”

“A bit, yeah,” she said, averting her eyes from mine for a quick moment.

“Oh.”

“He really might need some time to think. I’m not sure how much he’s told you about his heart situation.”

“Enough, I guess,” I said with a shrug.

“Well, we got some pretty bad news.”

“Did he get an infection?” I asked as a nurse was being paged over the intercom.

“No, but they did an ultrasound of his heart. He was scheduled for it before he even got hit, so they decided to do it now.” She pulled on the collar of her cable knit sweater.

“Okay,” I said pensively.

“It confirmed our suspicions. He’s been having some issues with rejection. A percentage of heart recipients develop a disease after some years, and well…he has it.”

“What does that mean?” My heart was in my throat.

“His blood vessels are starting to thicken.”

“Okay.”

“Well, it will ultimately lead to his death.”

“What!?” I swore I momentarily saw stars. It was like everything in my brain had gone haywire, unable to process what Kristin said.
I felt like I needed to barf.

“He could still have years. We’re going try some new therapies to hopefully give him a longer life expectancy, but…” Her eyes blinked again and again.

“He’s not going to make it to thirty-seven.”

“Probably not even twenty-seven.”

“Twenty?” I squeaked out, grabbing hold of the guardrail that ran along the wall.

“It’s so hard to tell. I don’t want to scare you, but you should know the reality of the situation. What he has can slowly build, or it can develop quickly. The doctors are going to try to stop the progression of it.” I really wished she would stop talking.

“And if they don’t?”

“Heart failure, or sudden cardiac death.”

“Sudden cardiac death,” I said. I didn’t want to admit what it meant. Something that awful couldn’t be a possibility for him. It just couldn’t.

“Yeah, his heart can just stop.”

“And that would be it.”

“Yeah.” Kristin looked so drained. Judging by the bags under her eyes, I doubted she had any sleep.

“Oh my god,” I said just over a whisper.

“But we’re going to try to prevent that, or prolong it as long as possible.”

I started bawling. I stood there hugging myself, shaking with tears pouring down my face.

“Try not to be sad. We still have him here with us,” Kristin said, holding my shoulders.

“But he doesn’t want me around.”

“Just give him some time to clear his head. I think he knew, but the news still upset him. He knew he wouldn’t live forever, but he hoped he’d have a bit more time. But the doctors said you never know. New research and treatments are being discovered all the time, so we just have to stay positive.” I think Kristin held me out so she could look me in the eye, trying to reassure me, but I stared at the floor.

“Figures he didn’t say anything. He probably doesn’t want to worry me.”

“He doesn’t want anyone to worry.” Kristin pulled me into a hug.

“How can I not?”

“You always will. It’s inevitable.”

I pulled out of Kristin’s hug and wiped at my eyes with the inside of my forearm. “I’m not going away.”

“We don’t want you to, nor does Dalton.”

“Just some time?”

“Yes, please.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

As soon as I got home, instead of going to my room – my usual brooding place – I went to the basement. Maybe I hoped Dalton would show up. I knew he wouldn’t, but even if he wasn’t there, a part of him was still in my basement with me. Even though he wanted some time apart, I wasn’t fully ready to let go yet. I climbed onto the couch, grabbed one of the decorative pillows that smelled faintly of him, and cried into it. Since Dalton came back, I had never cried so much in my life. But it felt good to cry and get it out. I had just left him at the hospital and missed him already. Giving him time would be hard. After I drained myself of tears, I called Caroline and told her what Dalton said.

“So, what do you think?” I asked.

“Maybe he actually wants time to himself.”

“It feels weird. Supposedly, he’s my boyfriend, but the way he said I should only visit if I wanted to…it sounded like he doubts that I actually like him. What if he thinks he loves me more than I love him?”

“Slow down there, lady. You’re jumping to conclusions.”

“I can’t help it. All I want to do is kiss and hug and hold him, and he doesn’t want me around.”

“Lexie, the guy just got hit by a car. Maybe he had one of those moments where his life flashed before his eyes and it freaked him out.”

“So I freak him out?”

“Lexie…,” Caroline said. I knew I was being irrational, but I was upset.

“I know, I know. This is all so new, taking a break. He didn’t even say how long,” I said.

“I’m sure he’ll let you know.”

“I don’t know if I should go back and visit him or not. I’m kinda mad, but then his mom told me something, so it’s all kind of understandable – but I’m still mad. He should want me with him.”

“What did his mom say?”

I sighed and my heart started thumping harder in my chest. Thinking about what his mom said upset me, but saying it out loud seemed like it would physically hurt. “Uh…”

“What did she say?” Caroline asked. I could hear the concern in her voice.

“It’s about his heart.” I swore, it really did hurt to say.

“Oh, that doesn’t sound good.”

I summarized what Dalton’s mom told me.

“He just can’t catch a break, can he?”

“No, and I just feel…”

“You need to try to feel some happy.”

“Yeah, because right now I feel like I’m ready to explode.”
My heart thudded even louder, as if to confirm that I wasn’t exaggerating.

“So you think you’ll visit him?”

“I might wait a few days. His mom seemed to want some time as much as he did.”

“Can I go visit him?” Caroline asked.

“Of course.”

“I don’t want him to die,” Caroline said softly.

“He still has plenty of living to do.”

“It’s just so sad.”

“I know.”

“Call me if you need anything.”

“Okay.”

I hung up, curled into a ball, and cried myself to sleep. I guess my tear ducts hadn’t drained themselves, after all.

***

I waited more than a few days. I waited too long, hoping he’d call or text or something – but I didn’t hear anything from him. He didn’t come back to his lola’s. I thought he was gone forever. How many times could I lose one boy?

I tried not to be sad. I lived how many years without him, and it wasn’t that bad. Yeah, sure, I lied a lot, but this time would be different. I was just living my real life, which I finally realized I needed people in. Caroline came over again. She sat at the kitchen table eating polish sausage that my grandma had made.

“I invited you over even though I have plans tonight,” I said, pushing my plate toward her. I didn’t feel much like eating. “I hoped you could join me.”

“Okay…,” Caroline said with her mouth full. “This is so good.”

“I’m going to play bingo with my grandma at her church.”

“Bingo?” Caroline asked. I always made going sound like a chore.

“Yes, I actually like to play bingo.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“So we’re playing bingo tonight.” Caroline stuck her fork in several pieces of my sausage, moving them to her plate.

“You’re the best, but I’m probably going to mope the whole time. If that’s okay?”

“It’s okay. I’d mope too, if I was coming off a Dalton Reyes high. Is he out of the hospital yet?”

“Not yet. Anybody else would be, but because he is him, he has to stay longer.”

“Did you talk to him?”

“No, but my grandma actually talked to Gloria.”

“That seems pretty big.”

“I was quite amazed. I think they finally realized we’re not awful people.”

“You’re great people.”

“Thanks.”

“You have to try to talk to Dalton.”

“I know.”

***

School felt weird without Dalton. Actually, everything felt weird without him. A good couple of weeks passed since he told me he wanted some time apart. People still stopped me in the hall to ask how he was doing. The day after the accident, a story in the newspaper and everywhere online went something like:
The sixteen-year-old lead singer and guitarist of local rock group, Macaulay, was struck by a motor vehicle last night as he exited The Empty Door.
It unfortunately was not a story I made up. The story about Dalton piqued more interest, so there was no huge drama regarding me and all my lies at school. I don’t think anybody cared, really. My decision to not lie as much – or well, just not to lie – was official, but there were a few things I had to straighten out.

It would probably be embarrassing, but I needed to start on a new path in life. I needed to own my life and love what I had. I spent most my time ashamed of who I was. I didn’t want people to find out that everyone I loved was taken away from me. I always thought that I was just that unlovable. But it wasn’t me – it was them. My mom was the one with the problems. My dad created his own problems. And Dalton didn’t leave me –
for five years he was just temporarily detained from my life due to his overprotective family, but I didn’t really blame them, especially after knowing the whole story. If Dalton never talked to me again, at least we had some time together. I had those memories to hold onto. It hurt so much, but I had to go on with my life. Dalton was always trying to go on with his life, just live it. I had to do the same.

I walked down the school hallway and found the locker I was looking for. It belonged to Caroline’s friend, Jess.

“Hey,” I said as she put her books up on a shelf.

“Oh, hi Lexie. How are things going? How’s Dalton?”

“He should be out of the hospital soon,” I said. He might have been out already, but I wasn’t too positive. I was going on what my grandma said some days before.

“I heard there was something with his heart,” Jess said.

“Yeah.”

“That sucks,” she said, frowning.

“It does, but I wanted to tell you something.” I really didn’t want to talk about Dalton and his heart. I was afraid I’d start crying.

“Um, okay,” Jess said, closing her locker.

“It’s about that Enzo shirt. I don’t know if you’ve heard.” I knew some people were now aware of my lying ways, but I think Caroline and Luiz were still the only ones that knew about the Enzo thing, and I wasn’t sure if either of them spilled the beans. Even if not, people could probably figure it out if they tried to untangle my web of lies.

“Oh no, do you want it back? I paid for it fair and square.”

“I wanted to let you know that there is no Enzo. I lied. I made the shirt.”

“Yeah right,” she said, slinging her backpack over her shoulder and scrunching her freckle-covered nose at me.

“No, I did.”

“You just want it back because you saw that pic of me wearing it online.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It got bunches of likes, and people want to know where I got it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and you’re not getting it back.”

“Okay.” Hey, I tried.

***

I felt so lost and hurt still, and somehow I missed my dad, so I also felt a bit confused. My dad was the start of so many things gone wrong. How could I possibly miss him? But I did. I denied it for some time, but my feelings started to bubble to the surface. I don’t know if it had to do with being around Dalton, or having a fight with him, or maybe realizing that the day Dalton got shot was out of my control, but whatever it was, I lay there on my bed thinking about how, when my dad used to hug me, he always squished too hard and said it was because he just had so much love for me. I thought about how, when we spent time together, it was always just about us – how he always used to say, “I love you, kiddo.” But then I always thought I didn’t want to be his kiddo anymore, didn’t want to have anything to do with him. I still had so much anger toward him, but yet I wanted to hear his voice. I couldn’t bring myself to visit him yet, but perhaps I could bring myself to talk to him on the phone.