16 Things I Thought were True Part 35

"I'm having the surgery tomorrow," she says. "Splenectomy."

I spin around slowly. Amy is looking at me. Her dad already told me, but I pretend to look surprised.

"Piece of cake," Adam says.

I walk to Adam's side and look down at her, trying not to let the fear inside me show on my face.

"Easy for you to say," she's saying to him. "No one's carving you open like a Thanksgiving turkey to remove your spleen. Anyhow."

She waves a finger at both of us like she's a teacher and we're her bad little pupils. "You two? You're totally together now. Aren't you?"

"Totally," Adam says and winks at her. My cheeks turn bright red and I open my mouth wide.

"Good. I told you my bracelets were magical. I expected this."

She leans back against her pillow. Her face is paler than usual, I notice, and she seems tired. "Does everyone at Tinkerpark know?"

"No!" I say. "We're keeping it secret." I don't want everyone knowing about it.

"Why?" she asks. "Are you ashamed of each other?"

"No," I say and notice Adam doesn't say anything.

"Morgan," Amy says, "are you worried about what people think?

You do know you're kind of an a.s.shole sometimes."

I laugh. "You're right. I am."

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J a n e t G u r t l e r "Wait, are you embarra.s.sed to be dating me?" Adam asks, grab- bing at his heart and pretending to be shocked.

"No. Well, maybe at work, since you're a manager." I make air quotes on the word manager.

Amy clucks her tongue. "You're better than that, Morgan."

My cheeks heat up. "Never mind me," I say. "How about you?

How are you feeling? Are you okay?" I resist putting my hand up to feel her forehead as if she's a little girl.

"Yeah. Great." She doesn't look up though, and she twirls her ID bracelet around and around her wrist. She doesn't have her usual string bracelets on. I wonder if the hospital made her take them off.

"You know, for someone who has cancer." She tries to grin but isn't quite successful at making her lips turn up.

"You beat it once; you can beat it again," I say to her.

"Come on. Amy doesn't need that kind of stuff," Adam says and frowns at me. I wonder if he's mad I haven't wanted to "come out"

at work as the girl he might sort of be dating- maybe.

"No Hallmark card- isms," he says, and the words sting and my cheeks warm. I'm worried I'm doing this all wrong, and he's kind of confirming it by critiquing me.

"And you know that because you're going to be a doctor?" I ask a little too snarkily and put my hand on my hip.

"It's a routine operation, but you don't have the right to mini- mize how she feels about it," he says, narrowing his eyes.

"Whoa." Amy waves both hands in the air without sitting up. "No fighting allowed, you two. It's bad for my health." She glares at Adam.

"And I know what she meant. People don't always know what to say."

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1 6 t h i n g s i t h o u g h t w e r e t r u e I grit my teeth. "I'm sorry if I sounded like a jerk."

"I forgive you," Adam says.

"I was talking to Amy," I snap, even though he's trying to joke. I think we're both angry at the wrong person. Or maybe the situation.

It's not easy to see Amy in a hospital and not be able to do anything.

I've been shoving down bad feelings for days, and they're piling on top of each other, trying not to spill out at the wrong person.

"I'm so glad you're my friends. Don't fight," Amy says, trying to bring us back together. "Our trip was so much fun..." She glances at me. "Other than your dad, I mean, and, uh, your mom." She stops. "Have you talked to them?"

I shake my head and pretend to search for something in my purse. Bob and his wife have been calling lately. Texting too, but I've ignored them. I don't know what to say yet, what I even want from them. And besides, I've been preoccupied with her.

Mom and I aren't talking. Well, I'm not talking to her. It's been surprisingly easy to give her the silent treatment, but it adds more layers to my mountain of repressed feelings.

"What time is your surgery?" I ask Amy. "I want to be here when you wake up- if it's okay with your parents." I tug on the sleeve of my Tinkerpark shirt.

She scowls. "I don't know."

Adam rests his b.u.t.t on the bed so he's sitting beside her. "We totally should have picked up that hitchhiker. Don't you think, Amy?" he says to change the subject.

"You are such a dork!" she says but smiles. "We'd be in pieces on the side of the highway by now." She giggles. "I never would 243.

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J a n e t G u r t l e r have guessed Morgan could change a tire. Right? Or that you were afraid of cows."

"I'm not afraid of cows," Adam interrupts. "I don't like them.

There's a difference." He glares at her, but it's a mock glare. She makes a chicken clucking sound and they both laugh.

"I loved that hostel, even though I thought I was going to hate it.

I loved those old ladies from England. If I ever visit, they're going to make me real tea."

The two of them chatter about our road trip, and I reach for my ChapStick in my purse. I swipe it on and cross my arms.

"And what about that whale and that cute little boy..." Amy is saying.

"How can you not know what time your surgery is?" I blurt out.

They both stare at me.

"Do the doctors drop in whenever they have an urge to do an operation? They don't schedule things at this hospital?" I can't take more pretending. The antiseptic smell in the room is making me nauseous. The walls are too stark. It's all so loud, the hospital sounds.

"Morgan," Adam says and gets to his feet, "she's going to be okay."

"I know that." Her eyes blink at me, hurt. But I can't stop. "I don't want to talk about that stupid trip. I don't want to talk about it anymore."

Adam stands and frowns. He adjusts his gla.s.ses and then looks down at Amy. I follow his gaze. She's staring at me. Her lips are down and quivering. Her eyes fill with tears.

The trip where Adam and I first kissed. Where Amy became my best friend.

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1 6 t h i n g s i t h o u g h t w e r e t r u e "I'm sorry," I cry to both of them. "I didn't mean that. I'm a self- centered jerk. I didn't mean it."

No one contradicts me. A buzzer rings down the hall and feet shuffle past the door outside. "It wasn't all great for you," Amy says.

I sit down on the side of her bed and shake my head back and forth. "No," I repeat. "There were good parts. Really good parts.

You. Adam. Me." I glance back. Adam's leaning against the wall, his expression neutral. "I'm sorry, Amy. I didn't mean it."

Amy reaches for my hand. "I know. I understand what you meant. Don't worry." She turns to Adam. "And so does he."

Adam nods, and she looks out the window before turning back to me. "For me, it was the most amazing thing ever. Maybe that sounds awful. Maybe I'm the one being self- centered and selfish."

I shake my head, but she smiles at me. "No. You're dealing with a huge family thing, and I feel bad for you, I do, but I have to admit, I had the time of my life."

"I know," I say softly. "And it's okay. I get it."

Amy reaches over and touches my hand. "For so long, my life has been all about cancer. Everything revolved around it. Even when I out-lived the survival rate, I was still getting tested and watched. Even when I got my black belt in karate, it seemed like I got special treatment.

I wondered sometimes if I really deserved it. I was treated differently because they were afraid I might break. But then, when I got the job at Tinkerpark, no one knew and I met you guys. And the trip came up and...it was perfect. Not perfect for you, but perfectly real. You know?"

I wish I could take back my tantrum. "I'm sorry," I say again.

Adam comes over and sits beside me.

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J a n e t G u r t l e r "It's okay. It's just that I got to be normal. Perfectly normal. You know?" She smiles at both of us. "I'd already started to feel it. I knew it was coming back. But for that weekend, I had two best friends, and for a while, I got to forget."

Adam and I both nod. We don't know- of course we don't know.

Not really. My throat stings. "We're still best friends," I say to Amy.

Adam puts an arm around me and then bends over so we're lean- ing toward Amy. "Group hug!"

Amy laughs and we gently squeeze all together.

"I love you guys," I whisper and vow in my head to make Adam chocolate chip cookies from scratch, to get Amy to five thousand followers on Twitter before I do, and to give myself a personality transplant for my dorky behavior.

"You're not going to try to make out with me too?" Amy jokes.

Adam makes kissing noises at her and we break apart. Then Adam makes another joke about picking up hitchhikers and I watch and smile, feeling like the Grinch as my heart grows to a bigger size. She doesn't want to talk about surgery or her health. She wants to be treated like a normal person.

Like me.

"So," I say, "I heard Jake came for a visit." I smile at her.

Adam stands and stretches his arms in the air. "Girl talk. Is this girl talk?" He walks over to the window, pretending to check out the fake plant, putting some s.p.a.ce between us, but I know he's still listening in.

A tiny smile curls up her lips. "It was nice of him. My mom and dad like him. He's a nice boy. He's been by the house too."

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1 6 t h i n g s i t h o u g h t w e r e t r u e "You know his motives aren't entirely pure, right? You know he has a crush on you," I tell her.

Jake is the only one at home who's talking to me. And he talks about Amy a lot.

She sticks out her tongue and wrinkles up her nose. "Boys don't have crushes on me."

"Uh. Apparently they do," I say. Finally there's color in her cheeks.

She bats her eyelashes and picks at the comforter on her bed.

"Not when they know about the cancer," she says softly.

I snort. "Give yourself some credit. And Jake too. You're much more than a girl with cancer. He doesn't just want you for your giant b.o.o.bs. He has discerning taste, unlike his twin."

She shakes her head and pick pick picks at the comforter without smiling. I glance over at Adam and he lifts his eyebrows. "Jake's a good guy, Amy," I say softly. "And I'm only teasing about your giant b.o.o.bs."

We both look down at her flat chest and start laughing at the same time. "He wanted to ask you out." My words come back to my ears. "Wants to," I say. "He wants to ask you out."