The Tear Collector (2 page)

CHAPTER 2
SATURDAY, MARCH 7

Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for the chaplain’s office,” the older man responds to my query in a dazed voice. He’s shell-shocked, standing in the safe bright hallways of Lapeer Regional Medical Center. It’s a look of loss: lost not in the building but in his grief. I see that look a lot here.

I walk him over to the map on the wall, then give directions. He tries to force a smile, but I can tell it’s too hard. “Happy to help,” I say as he walks away. Other than in the maternity ward, hospitals don’t birth many smiles. This is a place of death, sickness, and sorrow.

I’ve been a volunteer at the hospital since we moved to Lapeer. Over the past two-plus years, I’ve worked every Saturday unless I’ve had a swim meet, church, or family obligation. On Sundays, I do double shifts after Mass. During the summer, I put in even more hours. Now that swimming season is
over, I can volunteer two more nights a week. When I started, like all new volunteers, I did boring stuff and didn’t interact with patients or families. Now the staff trusts me. They’ve seen how good I am at comforting people, so they bend the rules. I spend most of my time up in Pediatrics. It was there that I found out about Robyn’s terminally ill sister, Becca.

I walk back to organize my cart when I hear, “I heard you’re breaking up with Cody.”

I turn to see Kelsey, another volunteer adorned in the standard white button-down blouse and black dress pants of the hospital volunteer uniform. Like me, Kelsey’s a junior and a swimmer. We also share the same history class, Robyn’s friendship, and another common experience. She’s dating Tyler Adams, one of my ex-boyfriends, so we’re natural enemies. “Who told you that?” I ask.

“Everybody knows,” she snaps back.

“It doesn’t involve you,” I counter, but don’t deny it. For once, this bit of backstabbing gossip isn’t a lie. Now I understand why Cody’s been texting me like crazy all day. I won’t text or call him back. Cody knows my rules: breakups, like make-outs, must occur in person. If he wants to fight or fool around, he needs to let me stare into his dark brown eyes.

“Why do you care?” I ask, then start to walk away.

“How many hearts do you plan on breaking?” Kelsey asks, all sarcastic.

“Tyler’s only going out with you because you remind him
of me,” I fire back. I hate angry conflicts; I have enough of them at home. I don’t need Kelsey sapping my strength.

“You wish,” she replies, but without much confidence.

“You know I’m right,” I say, then start again to walk away. In some ways, looking at Kelsey is like looking in a mirror. We’re the same medium height with the similar lean-but-mean female swimmer body type. I’m thinner and smaller everyplace, but I have no trouble getting attention. Kelsey sports a short blond hairdo, but I let my locks grow long so my tricolored hair (natural black tinted with red and yellow) tickles my exposed shoulders. With Kelsey’s tight clothes turning her cleavage into an eye magnet, no boy’s looking at her hair anyway.

“You’re so weird,” she says, the all-purpose high school put-down.

I sigh, then turn again to face her. “And you’re so normal. Tyler will tire of you soon enough. He’ll be afraid the dullness will wear off on him.”

She leans in toward me, then whispers, “Well, unlike Cody, at least Tyler gets off.”

“Whatever,” I say, and sigh. She’s guessing, which accounts for most gossip. Rumors are lies that sometimes turn out to be true. I think that’s what happened with Robyn and Craig. The word was Craig hooked up with Brittney. So, maybe they figured they might as well act on it. I don’t know, just like I don’t know who started the rumor, but I do know that Kelsey spread it like the plague.

“What did Tyler tell you about me?” I whisper back, then
take a sip from my water bottle. All these heated words are drying out my mouth.

“You’re a virgin,” Kelsey says, and I breathe a sigh of relief if that’s all he said.

I sigh loudly, then announce, “It’s none of your business.”

She laughs, which draws unwanted attention from the nurses’ station. I want to get away from Kelsey and get back to work. I couldn’t bear to get fired; this volunteer job sustains me.

“Cassandra, at Lapeer, everything is everybody’s business,” she says, reminding me of the hard truth of high school. I know I have a reputation as a heartbreaker, but it hasn’t hurt me yet. I’ve broken up with Cody before, but we bounced right back. There was shouting (me), followed by tears (him). We’d make up, make out, and break up again. But this is probably Cody’s last ride. Like Tyler, he’ll find somebody else. So will I. I always do, which is why I’m always looking.

“I have things to do, don’t you?” I snap, but Kelsey’s not moving.

“I don’t know how you can work here.”

“What do you mean?” I ask her, then pull out some lip balm. She’s really drying me out.

“The doctors here pledge to do no harm, but that’s all you do,” she says, and hisses.

“I’m here to help people, not hurt them.”

“Don’t be all like that,” she counters. “I see through your helpful-friend act.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Pretending like you care about anyone that is hurting,” she says. “Like how you’ve used Becca to become Robyn’s best friend over Brittney and me. It makes me sick.”

“No, it makes you jealous,” I snap back instead of admitting she’s right. With my great-grandmother Veronica’s failing health and her needing my help, it’s like this past year I’ve been on sympathy steroids. My first two years at Lapeer, I offered my shoulder only to friends, but this junior year, I’m looking for anyone who is hurt. Kelsey’s right; I’m a heartache whore.

“Tyler is so cool, why did you hurt him?” she asks. There’s anger in her eyes, but there’s no regret in mine. “Now you’re gonna do the same to Cody. What’s wrong with you?”

“Kelsey, you’re not my family and you’re not my friend. I don’t answer to you.”

“Before Tyler, there were like six others. After Cody, do you already have someone lined up?” she asks. “Maybe you’re the one stealing Craig away from Robyn.”

“My name isn’t Burnt Knees. I mean Brittney.” I point to my name tag, then fake a smile. Burnt Knees is a nickname that someone bestowed upon Brittney and then spread around school.

“You’re such a bitch,” Kelsey says with a hiss. “I don’t know why Robyn stays friends with you.”

“At least I’m Robyn’s friend,” I snap. “You’re only friends with her because of Brittney. And, just in case you haven’t noticed, you’re not even Brittney’s friend either.”

“What do you mean?” she asks, looking confused.

“You’re not her friend; you’re her toady!” I’m angry not so much at Kelsey, but at how Brittney uses her. “No matter how much makeup you use, your nose is still gonna be brown.”

She answers by staring me down, but blinks as I ask, “Do you think any of this matters?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Kelsey, look around on this floor. Go up to the burn unit. Or to the ICU. Come with me to Pediatrics. Then you’ll understand what I mean,” I tell her. “These people are in real pain with life-and-death situations, and you’re talking about boyfriends and breakups.”

“Don’t go acting all mature on me,” is her weak counter.

“You think the sick kids up there cry as much as people at school do about lame high school drama?” I ask, then answer, “They don’t. It is too bad that Tyler was upset and Cody will feel hurt. But compared to people here, their trivial pain doesn’t even begin to match up.”

To prove my point, I quickly scan the hallway. We’re just in a regular unit, but I quickly home in on the sound, smell, and even the taste. I dismiss Kelsey with a glare, then walk toward a room near the end of the hall. I take a deep breath, then ask, “Are you okay?”

The woman—maybe forty or fifty—turns around. She’s nicely dressed, plenty of jewelry, but no makeup. She knows better than to apply makeup that will only wash away. I saw
her here last week. It’s her mother lying in the bed, hooked up to tubes pushing life-giving liquid through her veins. “I’m just tired,” she replies in a tone that shows speaking to a stranger is almost more energy than she can spare. I break the rules and hug her softly as a few of her tears fall onto me, then we walk into the room. I help sit her down in a blue chair and the grief swallows her like an ocean. The mom is dying, the daughter is crying, and I’m here to help.

The rest of my shift goes well. I avoid Kelsey and encounter more family members that I can comfort. I’m not sure why Kelsey even volunteers here. She must have some other motive. The other girls—like Amanda, who sometimes gives me a ride home—seem more the type. Like me, they want to help people or learn more about medicine. Maybe Kelsey’s just trying to meet a medical student. Everybody has good intentions, I suppose, but all with strings attached.

That thought is on my mind as Cody arrives. The SUV shakes with booming bass. He parks his dad’s black SUV in the handicapped zone, then walks toward the front door. He’s dressed for Saturday night, with new green shades, blue Hollister hoodie, and fake surfer-boy tan. Cody thinks he’s cool, and he is when he’s with Tyler and Craig, but on his own, he’s just another guy who tries too hard. But he says he loves me, and that’s enough for now. I sigh, and then get a head start on the night’s activities by unbuttoning the top button of my blouse.

…

“What do you know about Craig and Brittney?” I ask Cody, my head across his chest.

“What?” he mumbles. He’s satisfied, half asleep; I’m wide-awake and full of energy. It’s midnight, and we’re lying fully clothed in front of the sofa. Upstairs, I hear Cody’s parents going about their adult business; down here, I’ve performed my girlfriend duties for their son.

“You’re good friends with Craig, right?” I ask.

“I’m tight with C-Dawg,” Cody says, and I’m trying not to laugh. Nothing in Cody’s spoiled suburban life justifies his ripped-off rap lexicon.

“Is it true about Craig and Brittney?” I ask.

“It’s Robyn’s own fault,” he says, then laughs. “She should’ve lived up to her name.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, but I have a good idea. While Robyn and I don’t talk much about sex—and nowhere near as much as guys do—she confessed her inexperience and reluctance despite her love for Craig. Like me, she’s a “virgin.” Unlike me, there’s no qualification to that word.

“Robyn wouldn’t swallow Craig’s worm!” Cody laughs so loud, he starts coughing.

I fake a laugh, which isn’t all I need to fake with Cody, since he’s all about Cody. It just gives me another reason to break up with him. There are so many, it will be hard to choose just one. He’s had his fun. He’s fallen in love with me, and very soon, it’ll be time for me to move on.

“We should totally roll to his crib,” Cody says through
another yawn. I can’t imagine why Cody would be tired. He’s in between sports seasons, he doesn’t work or volunteer, and from what I know about his grades, he doesn’t study. He brags about how he doesn’t do anything around the house. Like the Brittneys of the world, Cody’s just somebody who takes.

“I gotta go. I have church in the morning,” I say, then fake a yawn. Being with Craig and Brittney would be raw betrayal. Seeing Craig and Cody play video games is rawer boredom.

“You wanna hang out after, catch a movie or come over here?” he asks.

I swallow a sigh, then say, “I have other things to do.”

“You mean other
guys
to do,” Cody says sharply. He doesn’t handle even the tiniest rejection well. Good-looking guys like Cody are so used to getting their way that any obstacle sinks their self-esteem. Cody types think they can walk on water, yet they drown so easily.

I raise my head off his shoulder and stare into his brown eyes. “Cody, that’s a lie.”

“That’s not what Kelsey told me,” he says, sitting up straight.

“Don’t believe everything you hear, especially from Kelsey,” I say.

“That’s harsh,” Cody says, then makes the universal catfight sound.

I fake another laugh, then say, “Besides, when Kelsey’s lips move, it’s Brittney talking.”

“You straight with me?” he asks, trying to seem so strong, but without his sports uniform, he doesn’t look or act tough. He breaks just like a little boy.

“Cody, don’t worry about that,” I whisper into his ear. “Don’t worry about anything.”

“It’s just that—,” he starts, then stops.

I wipe my hands near his not-yet-crying eyes, then say, “I love you, Cody.” As desired, Cody’s eyes start to well with tears of joy. Joyful tears are not as powerful, but just as welcome.

“I know it, Shawty,” he says, then smiles.

“I won’t hurt you,” I reassure him, then put my head back on his chest. I know both the things I just told him are lies, but they’re the words that he wants to hear. I might as well let Cody be happy for the rest of the time we’re together. I might not be human, but that doesn’t mean I’m a monster.

CHAPTER 3
SUNDAY, MARCH 8

How’s Veronica?”

“You’re late,” is my mom’s answer to my query about my great-grandmother.