Need (2 page)

Nate's face lights up. He gives me one final squeeze before sliding into the chair in front of the computer screen. “Score. My request has been processed. Now, according to this, I just have to invite six qualified friends to the site and my need will be met. That's easy enough.” Nate types my name and email address and hits Send before I can object. He then types five more addresses.

“Who did you just invite?”

“I'm not telling. Unlike Jack, I plan on following the rules.” After hitting Log Out, Nate shoves back the chair and stands. “Now, did your mom say when they'll be home?”

“No.” The last time I went with DJ and Mom to the ER, it took hours before DJ was discharged. It's like clocks stop working when you step into a hospital. “I doubt it will be any time soon.”

“Good.” Nate grabs my arm and pulls me toward the door. “That means we still have time to raid the fridge and watch a scary movie before they get back.”

“Does it have to be a horror film?” I ask, even though I know the answer. “Can't we watch
Lord of the Rings
for the hundredth time? I won't complain when you say all the dialogue and reenact the fight scenes.”

“Tempting, but no.” He laughs. “You have to do something nice for me because I came over, and I have my heart set on hearing you shriek like a girl.”

“In case you haven't noticed, I am a girl.”

“And I've been working hard for the last seven years to not hold it against you.” Nate turns and winks. “You get the popcorn. I'll get the soda. It's time to have some fun.”

H
ANNAH
M
AZUR SITS
at her desk and pulls the book she was assigned to read over break out of her backpack. She's put it off for the last week and a half, but school starts again on Wednesday, which means she has to get started.

A Tale of Two Cities.
Even the title sounds boring. Her teacher swore she wasn't really assigning homework this holiday. She said she was giving everyone the gift of a wonderful story. Yeah, right. If that were the case, there would be a hot guy on the cover.

Since she doesn't want to spend New Year's Eve catching up, Hannah flips to the first page and starts reading. After ten minutes, her eyes glaze over and her brain goes fuzzy. If this is Mrs. Hernandez's idea of a gift, she needs to get out more.

Laughter from downstairs makes Hannah want to get up and see what she's missing, but she can't. Not after telling everyone that she was going upstairs to finish her homework. Her mother will give her “the look,” which will inevitably lead to being told she can't go to Logan's New Year's Eve party.

Hannah skims a few more pages and decides to take a break to look at email. After all, reading in small doses will probably make her remember the book better.

She grins as she sees an email from Nate Weakley in her inbox. Maybe this means Nate is finally paying attention. About time he stopped being so into Kaylee Dunham. After her playing-sick routine last year that only proved she needed acting lessons and psychiatric help, Kaylee doesn't deserve Nate. Between that and her getting in people's faces about being tested as a kidney donor, it's no wonder he eventually lost interest. Everyone feels bad that Kaylee's brother could die, but going up to people in the cafeteria in front of everyone and begging them to be tested is just uncool. Hannah hated the way people looked at her, waiting for her response. And, of course, she felt like dirt when she said no. No one said yes, but still. Asking people that way is just mean.

She clicks on the link and laughs at the website. Is Nate playing a joke? If so, she's game. This is a heck of a lot more fun than Charles Dickens.

She thinks about the question.

What do you
need?

Hmm . . . CliffsNotes? A great new outfit for the party? Nah. To get Nate's attention she has to be more intriguing than that. And who knows, maybe he'll try to find a way to get her what she wants. If so, she has to make it harder than a trip to the mall. Hannah discards one idea after another until she finally has it.

“I need an extra week of Christmas break.”

Heck, her father would be thrilled if that came through. He likes teaching, but even he said this year's break hasn't been long enough. He'd have more time to watch football and play video games with her brothers, and she'd be able to ditch reading this book for another couple of days. It's what her father would call a win-win proposition.

The NEED clock is ticking. When her request is accepted, she puts in the requisite seven email addresses and hits Send.

I'
M NOT SURE
if an enormous bowl of popcorn drowned in butter, a psychopath chasing people around the woods, and Nate calling me a girl every time I covered my eyes should technically be termed “fun,” but it took my mind off things for a while. Nate would say that wasn't his goal. Nate lies.

It's just after midnight when DJ and Mom walk into the house. Nate and I stop talking as we watch them come in. Despite his having been in the cold, DJ's face is pale. But his blue eyes light up when he spots Nate.

“Hey, DJ.” Nate holds out his hand, and DJ and he bump fists. “How are you feeling? Kaylee said you and your mom were hanging out in the ER, so I kept her company here.” He leans forward and in a loud whisper adds, “I made her watch a slasher flick.”

“Aw, man. I wish I had been with you guys.” DJ sighs. “There is nothing wrong with me.”

“You had a fever,” Mom says.

“I have a cold.” DJ rolls his eyes. “The doctors said it was no big deal, but Mom made them do a bunch of tests anyway. What a waste.”

Maybe. But I still wrap my arms around his slight shoulders and hug him tight. I don't know what I'd do if I lost him.

“Hey.” DJ squirms, but not very hard because he loves me. He knows I need this moment. And maybe he needs it too, because the second before he breaks free he hugs me back.

“Cut your sister a break, kid. Her nerves are shot from all the jumping and shrieking. She put on a better show than the actors did.” Nate gives me a deliberate look. “If you want to watch it again I'd be happy to come back.”

“That would be awesome. Right, Kaylee?” DJ turns toward me as I'm about to say no. And I can't, because I see the fatigue under the excitement and the worry that he tries to pretend he doesn't feel. That soon there may not be movie nights and fun. That the steroids will stop helping. That his kidneys will give out before a new kidney can be found. And I can't bring myself to take away even a single moment of happiness.

“Absolutely,” I say. “The sooner the better.”

“How about tomorrow?” DJ asks.

Mom shakes her head. “The doctor said you need to rest.”

“Actually, Mom,” DJ says, grinning, “that's what the doctor told
you.
”

“How about this?” Nate says, shrugging into his thick black coat. “You rest tomorrow, and on Friday we'll have a horror movie marathon to celebrate the demise of your cold. You can even pick the first flick.”

“Deal.”

Mom gives Nate a grateful smile as she tells DJ to get ready for bed. Looking at Nate, she says, “I hope you won't mention DJ's cold to anyone. The last thing he needs is more people gossiping about his health.”

“You can count on me, Mrs. D.”

“That's great.” She gives an absent smile. “Have a good night.” Without a glance at me, she hurries after my brother to make sure he actually goes to bed instead of reading comic books by flashlight.

“Thanks,” I say, walking Nate to the door.

“You never have to thank me for watching scary movies.”

“Not that.” I smile, grateful that he once again has the words to make me feel better. “But . . . tonight. Putting up with me. Keeping me sane. Being nice to DJ. You know.”

“I know.” Nate steps forward and wraps his arms around me for the second time tonight. I think that's a record. I must look pathetic, but at the moment I don't care. I lean into him and breathe in the smell of popcorn and dog, and the faint scent of cigarette smoke that means his mother has fallen off the no-smoking wagon again. For several seconds we just stand there. When we were nine, Nate told me we could do anything as long as we did it together. I think he got the line from a movie. He was a film junkie even then. But wherever he got it, I believed him. And I still believe him, because he's here after all the mistakes I've made and the idiotic things I've done. Because that's what best friends do.

“Call me tomorrow and let me know how you're doing.” He gives me one last hug before jamming the purple hat his grandmother knitted for him onto his head. “And don't forget to check your inbox and accept the invitation. You don't want to live with my failing physics grade on your conscience, do you?”

He heads out into the cold and I lock the door after him. Then I watch out the front window as he walks down the driveway I shoveled yesterday to the street. When he reaches it, he turns and waves. I smile, wave back, and watch him trudge out of sight, knowing he'll text me when he gets home because I like hearing he's safe. Nate is crazy and fun and sometimes a touch wild, but he's always forgiving of what he calls my compulsive need to control the world.

Figuring my mother is too tired to come back downstairs, I check to make sure the back door is locked, then head upstairs. There's light under Mom's door, but I don't knock to see if she's still awake. Instead I walk to the next closed door, turn the handle, and squint into the darkness. I don't step inside because I've learned the hard way that I don't want to walk on whatever LEGO are currently scattered across the floor. So I stand in the doorway and watch DJ sleep, grateful his breathing is easy. For tonight he's okay, and for the zillionth time I wish I were different so I could help make him well.

As I close DJ's door, my mother steps out into the hall. “Is everything all right?” she whispers.

“Everything's fine. I just wanted to make sure he didn't need anything before I went to bed. You should get some sleep,” I tell her. She has to get up for work in the morning.

“I will. You should go to bed too.” Mom frowns and looks down at her hands. “And I know I said you could get some of those driving hours in after I get off work tomorrow, but with DJ's cold, I don't want him going in the car unless he has to and he shouldn't be left home alone . . .”

“Don't worry about it, Mom.” I shrug. “It's no big deal.” Nate isn't the only one who can lie. “We can do it another time when things are better. Maybe Sunday.”

“We'll see.”

I've heard those words enough to know that I have a better chance of having a pink pony delivered to my door than getting a driving lesson this weekend. At this rate, I'll earn my license by the time I graduate college. I could get angry, but there are more important things to focus on.

“Mom . . .” I say before I can lose my nerve. “Have you thought any more about hiring a private detective? I could chip in the money Nana and Papa sent me for Christmas. It's not a lot, but it could—”

“I told you no, Kaylee.”

I flinch at the anger in her voice, but I don't back down. “But if there's a chance Dad could be a match—”

“If your father was interested in helping your brother, he would never have left in the first place. We've even talked this through with Dr. Jain. I'm handling things. I expect you to let me. Now go to bed.”

She goes to her room and closes the door behind her. I hear the click of the lock. My mother has shut me out. Again. And really, why should tonight be any different? I could force the issue and demand she talk to me, but that would only wake up DJ. That wouldn't help anything.

I ball my hands into fists and stare at the door, foolishly waiting for her to change her mind. For once, I want her to understand. Yes, Craigslist wasn't smart. Lying about a cash reward for anyone who got tested and was a match wasn't just a bad idea, it was illegal. Something I didn't realize when I did it. But I was desperate. I've done so many things out of desperation to help. And so far, instead of saving DJ's life, I've screwed up everything about my own.

I change into a pair of flannel pants and a T-shirt and am climbing into bed when I hear my phone vibrate. Nate. He's texting to say he arrived home and is hoping I am sitting at my desk, helping him secure a better future with an improved grade.

I text back that I wouldn't dare limit the possibilities for his life. Then I hop out of bed and walk over to my laptop. A few keystrokes and I click on the email with the header “Nate Weakley has invited you to NEED.”

CONGRATULATIONS. YOU HAVE BEEN INVITED TO NEED—THE NEWEST, INVITATION-ONLY SOCIAL MEDIA SITE FOR NOTTAWA HIGH SCHOOL STUDENTS. JOIN YOUR FRIENDS IN DISCOVERING HOW MUCH BETTER LIFE CAN BE WHEN YOU ARE PRESENTED WITH AN ANONYMOUS WAY TO EXPRESS YOUR THOUGHTS AND ARE GIVEN THE TOOLS TO GET THE THINGS YOU NEED.

I didn't realize the site was only for NHS students. That's strange. But now that I know, I push my chair back from the desk and think twice about clicking on the link below the sales pitch. While I don't like most of the people from my high school, and I don't associate with them unless I can't avoid it, accepting their online friendship requests is basically a requirement. Why they bother to send those requests is beyond me, but it seems like the more someone dislikes a person, the more they want to have contact on the Internet. Up until now, I've ignored anything they post, especially when it seems like they're baiting me into a response.

Most of the kids at my school are jerks. A few got tested when I put posters up and began passing out flyers about the kidney donation process before class. Three that I know of out of hundreds. The rest stopped meeting my eyes in the hall. Even the teachers looked the other way, so I fought back. I fought for my brother. Nate says I shouldn't take their name-calling personally. He says everyone hates feeling like a coward for not wanting to be tested. And instead of admitting it, they attack the person who has forced them to acknowledge to themselves that they're afraid.