Fangirl

“Why? I mean, what happened? Why did you take him there—did you take him there?”


“Yeah, I did. I brought him here myself. It wasn’t that anything happened. It’s just that he was really caught up in work, which you know, we all are. It’s a fine line sometimes for all of us … but your dad didn’t want to leave his office. It had been a few days since he’d left his office.…”

How many days? she wondered. And was he eating? Was he going to the bathroom? Had he shoved his desk up against the door? Had he thrown a stack of ideas out the seventh-floor window? Had he stood in the hallway and shouted, You’re all limp-dicked sellouts! Every one of you! And especially you, Kelly, you fucking brainless hack! Did they have to carry him out? Was it during the day? Did everyone watch?

“He’s at St. Richard’s?” she asked.

“Yep, they’re just checking things out. Helping him get some sleep. I think that’s really going to help.”

“I’m coming,” she said. “Tell him I’m coming. Did he hurt himself?”

“No, Cather—he’s not hurt. He’s just sleeping. I think he’s going to be fine. It’s just been a rough couple of months.”

Months. “I’m coming, okay?”

“Sure,” Kelly said. “I’m probably going to head home soon. But this is my cell number. You call me if you need anything, okay?”

“Thank you.”

“I mean it. Anything at all. You know how I feel about your dad, he’s my lucky penny. I’d do anything for the guy.”

“Thank you.”

She hung up before Kelly did. She couldn’t stand any more.

Then she immediately called Wren. Wren sounded surprised when she answered the phone. Cath cut to the chase—“Dad’s at St. Richard’s.”

“What? Why?”

“He lost it at work.”

“Is he okay?”

“I don’t know. Kelly said he wouldn’t leave his office.”

Wren sighed. “Fucking Kelly?”

“Yeah.”

“Dad’s going to be mortified.”

“I know,” Cath said. “I’m going up there as soon as I can figure out a ride.”

“Did Kelly tell you to come?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it’s finals week, and you know that Dad is probably tranqed into oblivion right now. We should call tomorrow and see how he’s doing.”

“Wren, he’s in the hospital.”

“St. Richard’s isn’t exactly a hospital.”

“You don’t think we should go?”

“I think we should finish our finals,” Wren said. “By the time we’re done, he’ll be just coming out of the haze, and we can be there for him.”

“I’m going,” Cath said. “I’m gonna see if Grandma will come get me.”

“Grandma’s in Chicago.”

“Oh. Right.”

“If you really have to do this, I know that Mom would drive you. If it’s that important to you.”

“No. Are you kidding me?”

“Fine. Whatever. Will you call me when you get to the hospital?”

Cath wanted to say something mean, like, “I’d hate to interrupt your studies during finals week.” But instead she said, “Yes.”

She called Reagan next. Reagan had a car; Reagan would understand.…

Reagan didn’t answer.

Cath crawled onto her bed and cried for a few minutes.

For her dad. For his humiliation and his weakness. And for herself—because she hadn’t been there to keep this from happening, and because even something this shitty couldn’t bring her and Wren together. Why was Wren being so cool about this? Just because it had happened before didn’t mean it wasn’t serious. It didn’t mean he didn’t need them.

Then she cried over the fact that she hadn’t made more friends with cars.…

And then she called Levi.

He answered right away. “Cath?”

“Hey, Levi. Um, how are you?”

“Fine. I’m just … working.”

“Do you usually answer your phone at work?”

“No.”

“Oh. Well, um, later when you get off, is there any chance you could drive me to Omaha? I know it’s a big hassle, and I’ll give you gas money. It’s just, sort of, a family emergency.”

“I’ll come get you now. Give me fifteen.”

“No. Levi, it can wait, if you’re at work.”

“Is it a family emergency?”

“Yeah,” she said quietly.

“See you in fifteen.”



There was no way Snow would see him here, up on the balcony. Snow was too busy trying to learn his steps for the ball. Too busy stamping all over Agatha’s silk boots. She looked lovely today—all golden white hair and creamy pink skin. That girl is opaque, Baz thought. Like milk. Like white glass.

Simon took a bad step forward, and she lost her balance. He caught her with a strong arm around her waist.

Don’t they just shine together? Weren’t they every shade of white and gold?

“He’ll never give her up, you know.”

Baz wanted to whip around at the voice, but he caught himself. Didn’t even turn his head. “Hello, Penelope.”

“You’re wasting your time,” she said, and damned if she didn’t sound tired. “He thinks she’s his destiny—he can’t help himself.”

“I know,” Baz said, turning into the shadows. “Neither can I.”

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