Pandemic (26 page)

“Is there a problem?”

“An opportunity.”

“This way, then.”

I followed her down the hall to a private office. My hands were sweating, which was ridiculous. I had dealt with a lot worse people than Mrs. Templeton.

“Is it more orphans?” she asked. “They’re forming a formal disaster committee soon, you know. The town officials can probably handle it now. Some of the seniors here weren’t thrilled about being exposed to germy little kids.”

I answered by opening my backpack and dumping a pile of antiviral boxes onto her desk.

“Good Lord,” she said. “How did you—”

“I can’t say how these came to me, but I promise I didn’t do anything illegal.”

“You could sell them for a lot of money. Enough to help with your college tuition in a few years.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” I said. “Someone needs to handle their distribution or else get the medicine to the police.”

“Not you?”

“It’s beyond me. You’re the former mayor. You have the clout to handle this, and you’ll make sure the right thing gets done.”

“Yes,” she said. “I will.” Her face was solemn.

“Thank you.” I took my empty backpack and turned to go.

“Thank
you
, Lilianna. Now let’s hope the kids aren’t eating all the damn cookies.”

We generally tried to stay inside as much as possible. But when I got home from the Senior Center, Jay agreed to come with me on an errand. We decided riding our bikes was safer than walking and we kept watch for looters along the way.

“Turn left here?” he asked at Maple Street.

I nodded. We slowed down by Cam’s house, but it looked deserted. Then we were at our destination: Kayla’s.

I might have chickened out if I were alone. What did Kayla and I have to say to each other after all that had happened between us? Jay waited on the street a few houses away as I rang the bell. When I glanced back at him nervously, he gave me a thumbs-up.

Kayla’s mother answered the door. She had always been tiny but seemed to have shrunk even more. “Hi, Lil. This is a surprise. We don’t get many visitors these days.”

“I’m sorry about Justin.”

“After we lost him . . . Kayla’s taking it hard.”

“Can I see her?”

“She’s too sick to come to the door, but you can go to her if you want.”

I made my way to the second room on the left. I knocked lightly before entering. Kayla lay in bed but didn’t roll over when I entered the room.

“Kayla,” I whispered.

She moved slowly onto her side to face me. Her long black hair was matted against her head and her eyes were puffy.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hi.”

“You’ll catch it from me.”

“I’ve been exposed before, but I’ll stand over here,” I said, keeping my distance. I rocked back and forth on my heels, not sure how to begin. “I’m, um, sorry for slapping you. I needed to tell you that.”

“And I should have been a better friend. None of that really matters now, does it?” She tried to raise herself, then gave up and rested her head on the pillow. “I’m sorry, too. You didn’t answer my text about Megs, but I’ve thought about calling you a hundred times.”

I thought I was done with crying, but Kayla was the only other person who really understood about Megs. I couldn’t help myself. I looked away, swiping at my eyes. When I faced her again, she was teary, too.

“And your brother—”

“Things are messed up, huh?”

“Yeah.” Without a big speech, I took out one of the extra antivirals I’d saved and handed it to her. “Here.”

She eyed the medicine like it was a glitzy diamond. “But this is impossible to buy. My parents have been desperate to get it for me. How did you—”

“It’s a long story. But I wanted to help.”

“Thank you.”

“I should go. I hope you feel better, Kayla. I really do.”

With the day’s good deeds behind me, I should have slept great that night. But I didn’t. Cam tossed and turned nearby as I tried to stop the thoughts from swirling in my head. Megs and my father—dead. Jay’s father in jail and his willingness to tell me about him. The lost opportunity to be more than a friend to Jay. Mr. B’s appearance at my door. All of these images whipped around like debris in a tornado until my head pounded and I wanted to scream.

Weariness suddenly overcame me. Then I decided.

I would tell him.

I would tell Jay about Mr. B.

C
HAPTER
28

A well-known movie exec is reportedly planning an influenza-based love story titled
Swoon.
“It’s
Titanic
meets
Contagion,”
he said. But several actors he contacted to play the lead roles were too sick to consider any projects in the near future.

—Blue Flu interview, Hollywood insider

T
he next morning, I woke up tired but resolute. Being honest with Jay about Mr. B was the right thing to do. The tricky part was finding a way to talk to him privately. I thought I got my chance when Mrs. Hernandez took the kids to the playground, but then Jay distracted me.

“I’ve been thinking about expanding my blog,” he said. “I thought I’d add a section for good deeds, so we could describe how we’ve helped people. I’ll link it to the thank-you messages. And I heard from Elsa again. She’s continued her animal crusade. With all the depressing news, it might be nice for people to read something positive. We’ve had tons of hits from all over the US.”

“That’s a great idea. But don’t mention where we got the original food that we distributed.” Although much of the school’s food drive items were gone, we were finally able to place an order through an online grocery site and Jay’s aunt had brought home supplies, so the pantry stayed full.

Just as I was working up the courage to tell Jay my secret, Cam and Ty tore through the house, crashing up the stairs and running into the office. They practically glowed with good health.

“I won!” Ty said. “I got here first!”

Cam followed on his heels. “You cheated.”

“How was the park?” Jay asked.

“Fun, but now Auntie has to go to work,” Ty said.

“We’re bored,” Cam said. “Can you play with us?”

There went my opportunity to speak to Jay alone. The rest of the afternoon was a combination of video games, Hangman, and a dance contest with Jay, Ty, and me as judges. Cam performed as the sole contestant and won first place.

It wasn’t until the kids were asleep that Jay and I had some uninterrupted time. I waited on the family room couch, ready, until he turned on the TV.

“My favorite show is on tonight,” he said. “
Chef Adventure
.”

I huddled under a throw blanket.

“You have to see this. It’s a cooking show under extreme conditions. One time the chefs had to find bugs as their main ingredient before cooking them as part of a gourmet jungle meal.”

“That’s beyond gross.” Suddenly tired, I struggled to stay awake during the program, waiting for a chance to talk with Jay. I had delayed it too long. Now I needed to get it over with.

The show lasted an hour. The episode took place on a mountain and the aerial shots made me dizzy. I breathed a sigh of relief when it finally ended.

Jay trailed behind me as I carried our water glasses to the sink. This was finally my chance to tell him about Mr. B. My cheeks flushed as I turned to face him. If only he wasn’t standing close enough for me to see the different shades of brown specks in his eyes. It would be so easy to step forward, put my arms around him. Maybe words were overrated.

But I had to try.

“I wanted to tell you . . .”

“What?” he asked.

But my courage seemed to evaporate into the air. “Um, I wanted to tell you that I’m really worried about my mom. I wish I knew for sure that she’s all right.”

“The waiting sucks,” he agreed.

“What if she doesn’t make it home?”

“I don’t know, Lil.” He lifted his hand as if to caress me, then seemed to think better of it. “Sorry,” he said, dropping his arm to his side. “I forgot you don’t like to be touched.”

“It’s not that, it’s . . .” I hesitated, torn between wanting to close the physical space between us and needing to wait—to tell him everything first.

“If you ever want to talk, I can handle it,” he said.

The silence stretched between us like a rubber band.

“Want to sit in the office?” I stalled. As we made our way upstairs, I composed myself. By the time we were in the room with the door closed behind us, I was determined.

“I’m glad you could be honest with me about your dad,” I said. “There’s something I’ve wanted to tell you about, too. The secret I’ve been keeping about, um, something bad that happened. It was November . . . right after you moved here.”

The stress of the confession made my head spin. “It’s painful to explain. The man in that car at my house that day, when you were walking me home with Ty . . .” I lost my train of thought, tried to start over. “You see, there was this teacher. I want you to understand what happened, but . . .”

How to find the opening, the loose piece of yarn I could pull to unravel the knot of my past? I checked Jay’s expression. He waited, watching me intently.

“Would it make it any easier if I already knew your situation?” he asked.

“What? How is that possible?” My voice was louder than I intended. “Did Kayla—”

“No, not Kayla.” He sighed. “But I shouldn’t say.”

“You’re trying to trick me into telling!”

“Lil, you’re already telling me. It’s not a trick.”

The thought made my temples throb. “There isn’t any way you could know, unless . . . did Megs tell you what happened?”

“That’s not it.” He hesitated. “I don’t want to get my aunt in trouble. But as a school nurse, she hears things.”

I leaned against the desk, grateful for the solid wood beneath my hands. “What kinds of things?”

“Like when a teacher hurts a student.” He looked away, his expression pained.

“You’ve known all along.”

“No. She told me about it without revealing the student’s name. Mr. B stopped teaching suddenly, right around the time she told me the story, so I figured he was the man involved. And every guy at school knows his Corvette convertible. When you got so upset about his car in your driveway, I put the pieces together.”

“So you felt sorry for me?”

“No. I feel connected to you because I . . . I realized what it cost you to keep that secret. To be on the edge of telling, but to step back and bury it. The fear is there. Always. I feel that way about my father. You’re the first person here who I’ve told about him.”

Jay had been honest about his past with only me. He was right. There was a connection between us. It was safe for me to confide in him. My body shook too hard for my mind to focus.

To stop the trembling, I concentrated on my breathing. Breathe. Life. Death. So much death. If I died, I didn’t want Mr. B to be the last person who touched me. Who was Megs’s final kiss? She hadn’t been ready to stop living. Megs would have the guts to kiss Jay if she were me, in this moment.

I moved forward until we were inches apart. Images of Mr. B and Megs and death mixed in my brain, and I felt the wet on my face before I realized I was crying. I leaned into Jay, my hair brushing against his shoulder. He smelled like soap and his body felt solid, safe, against mine.

He put his arms around me, softly, as if he were holding a glass mannequin instead of a girl. His chest rose and fell. I nuzzled against him, feeling desire, and uncertainty. I hesitated, my emotions battling.

I lifted my face and kissed him.

“I’ve thought about this moment so many times,” he said. “But I wasn’t sure. . . . Is this what you want?”

I wanted it so much that my whole body ached, but the words wouldn’t come, so I pulled him closer. We kissed again and I melted into him, until there was only the taste of his mouth and the sound of his heart.

I let the gentle weight of his arms erase every embrace that had come before. There was no more fear. Only that very moment. Only Jay.

It was amazing. So amazing, in fact, that the room started to spin.

Wow
.
No one ever made the world move with a kiss before.

I blinked, trying to get my bearings. My vision blurred around the edges. Then everything went dark.

C
HAPTER
29

This recent influenza strain has shown some resistance to popular neuraminidase inhibitors. In laymen’s terms, antivirals don’t always work.

—Blue Flu interview, major medical association

S
obs. I heard sobs, the kind where someone’s chest breaks open with each cry. A girl, distraught.

Then a male voice. “Shh. She’ll be all right. Let her rest.”

Jay.
There was something I wanted to say to him. If only I could remember, if only the pounding in my head would go away so I could think.

Time passed.

Minutes, hours, days—I wasn’t sure. Cool water trickled down my temple but my arms wouldn’t budge. I was too weary to wipe the drops away.

“Am I doing it right?” the girl asked.

I recognized the voice now: Cam.