It's My Life - Stacie Ramey Page 0,51

there for laughs.

My nurse is not amused. “Just for a minute. I need to grab a thermometer anyway. When I get back, you all go,” she says, pushing back out through the door.

I have a hard time holding in my laughter until the door closes, and Eric lets his out at the exact moment I release mine.

He points toward the door. “She seems nice.”

“I just wanted to thank you and Rena. Last night was magic.”

“Until you broke your leg.”

“I mean it. It was perfect, the best.”

“Good because Mom is so pissed about the sneaking-out thing. Man, you’d think she wanted you to actually break your neck, the number of times she said you could’ve.”

“Tell her I’m sorry to disappoint. When do you go to school?” I ask.

“Sunday. But the semester is almost over. So.”

Sadness seeps in. I’ve messed up my weekend with my brother. Awesome.

“Okay. Going to sleep now.” I close my eyes, even though I have no intention of sleeping. I need to check my phone. I need to speak to Julian. But not as me. Obviously.

His texts are so sad.

Thursday, 10:07 P.M.

Are you there? I’m sort of freaking out.

10:15 P.M.

I did something terrible. Hurt someone. Didn’t mean to. But.

10:22 P.M.

I wish you were here so I could talk to you.

Friday, 9:43 A.M.

Maybe you’ve heard. And hate me.

11:05 A.M.

Hey. Sorry. I dropped my cell in a puddle and it stopped working. Just got a new phone. What’s going on?

Hey. I thought maybe you were over me.

No. Of course not. What happened?

It was awful.

What?

I was skating with a girl and she fell and broke her leg. She’s in the hospital now. Bc of me.

I’m sure it wasn’t your fault.

It was. I talked her into skating and now she’s hurt. What can I do?

Just be sweet. I’m sure she doesn’t blame you anyway.

Should I go see her?

Not in the hospital. No one wants to be seen in the hospital. No girl anyway. Wait till she gets home.

She doesn’t hate me, right?

Not a chance.

I hope so. Better go to sleep. Gnite, Elsa.

Gnite, Julian.

Eighteen

It’s Saturday morning, and I’ve been up since six. So fun. It’s now nine o’clock. My phone buzzes, and I grab for it, hoping for messages from Julian, but instead I get birthday messages from Eric, Rena, and Uncle Steve. All with balloons flying around and that confetti thing the phone does. I’m busy feeling sorry for myself, because no text from Julian, but it’s not like he knows that I’m his secret texter. I’m not even sure he knows it’s my birthday, anyway.

We are on our way. From Eric.

Before I can message him back, my door bursts inward and my family crowds in. Not just Mom, Dad, Eric, Rena, and Uncle Steve, but also Mom’s sister, Aunt Betty, and Uncle Bobby and my little cousins, Kevin and Whitney. Mom carries a big cake plate with what is no doubt my chocolate torte cake, the one Uncle Steve and I love.

Kevin and Whitney bounce on my bed, which makes me groan and Eric grabs them by the waists and lifts them off. “Settle down, you two, or no cake.”

Rena opens her arms for Eric to place them in her lap. She starts whispering things in their ears that make them laugh and cry at the same time. I know my family is filled with dorks, and I realize we are not normal, that we are close and annoying and all too much, but I wouldn’t trade us. Not for the world.

Mom pulls the tray table in front of me, and Dad helps me shift up in the bed, plumping the pillows behind me. Then, with a big flourish, Mom uncovers the cake and puts two candles in: a one and a six. She takes a lighter out of her purse.

Dad says, “You can’t have candles in the hospital, it’s dangerous.”

She waves him off and lights each candle. Just as the singing is about to start, there’s a knock on the door.

“Ruh roh,” Eric says. “We’re caught!”

The door opens. I don’t look. I just keep staring at the light, until I hear, “Hey, man.”

And then Rena says, “Julian! How nice.”

My eyes shoot to the door as I wonder what kind of fresh hell this is, having him here, seeing me like this. What will Mom and Dad say? They can’t be too happy with the boy.

Julian’s carrying one of those flower arrangements with a get-well balloon floating above it. “I didn’t mean to interrupt…”

Mom steps forward. “How nice.”

I’m praying for him