Nowhere Near You by Leah Thomas

Author:Leah Thomas
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2017-08-23T04:00:00+00:00

My head pounded red hot under the wool, but I froze in the waiting room entrance.

Tricia’s parents were there. I could tell. One of her dads had her freckles. And the doctor speaking to them kept pointing at her forearm.

Behind them: Auburn-Stache stood to meet us; Bridget didn’t budge an inch.

Ms. Arana urged me forward with a soft shove. “It’s all right, hon.”

“Thank god.” Auburn-Stache grabbed my shoulders. “Ollie. I’ve been pulling my hair out.”

“So long as it wasn’t your mustache hair . . .”

“Are you all right?”

“I’m golden! No biggie.” My eyes flicked across the room. Bridget, sitting like a statue, sat next to a man coddling a screaming baby, stared back. “Is Bridget okay? Did she get her heart back from that hooligan?”

“Ollie, we’ve got more pressing concerns.”

“Obviously you didn’t see this hooligan.” He couldn’t even answer that?

“We’re leaving.”

No matter how I looked at it, Bridget in that crowded waiting room, holding a college-ruled notebook in scabbed hands, holding it but not seeing it, seemed like a pressing concern.

I raised my eyebrows. “What, straight from the hospital?”

“A word before you go, about Ollie’s health. My name is Jess Arana. ”

“I’ve looked after this boy since his birth, thank you.”

“Have you now,” she said slowly, letting her twang snap. “So you’ve been keeping an eye on his state of mind, too? Has he seen anyone? A grief counselor?”

“You have my number. We’re leaving.”

“Hold on. I don’t know your situation, but I just did you one helluva favor. On good faith, and on the basis that you seemed to care about this boy. But if you’re not going to address whatever sick- or sadness that’s got him feeling so reckless—”

Auburn-Stache spun me around and pushed me ahead of him. Moritz, have you ever seen him act rude? It downright scared me, like those crazy, dark rings around his eyes.

“What is it? Another secretly devastating phone call?”

“I know you’re tired, but don’t raise your voice.”

Yeah, I was tired. Injuring a bunch of strangers is just really tiring, Moritz. No biggie. And so is getting walloped in the face. You know what else is tiring? Asking valid questions and getting different variations of “shut up” in response.

“So when I get to wherever we’re going, you’re just going to, what? Blindfold me? Maybe give me earplugs?”

“I’ll . . . no. I’ll explain everything before we arrive.” The thought seemed to pain him; the thought of being honest pained him.

“Then just explain it here!”

His head twitched on his neck. “Fine. Yes, fine. Step outside.”

I followed him out of the waiting room on shaking legs, into a hallway bathed in electric nauseating rainbows.

“Well?”

I stopped to let doctors push a gurney past; machines trailed it, glowing cerulean, keeping an old man alive.

Auburn-Stache turned to me with his weird, wild eyes. “It’s Arthur.”

“What about Arthur?” He started down the linoleum, and I dragged my feet after him; bringing Arthur up was the worst bait. “The man of Metropolis was fine yesterday!”

“Arthur did well in school, despite his condition.

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