My Life With the Walter Boys

“Oh, thank God,” Katherine said, putting her hand to her heart. “When can we see him?”

 

 

He paused. “Nathan is in stable condition,” he started to say. From the way he was looking at Katherine, I knew he had more news, but was choosing his words carefully. “But there is something we need to discuss first. Your son suffered a severe concussion. We still have to do some more tests, but our initial diagnosis is that Nathan fell and hit his head after suffering a seizure,” Dr. Goodman said.

 

“A seizure?” George echoed in astonishment. “How is that even possible?”

 

Dr. Goodman explained to the Walters that Nathan’s seizure was a result of excessive neuronal activity in the brain, a common chronic neurological disorder known as epilepsy. He also explained that while about fifty million people worldwide suffer from epilepsy, a good portion of those people only experience one seizure in their whole lifetime.

 

“May we please see him now?” Katherine asked once Dr. Goodman finished explaining the condition.

 

“Of course,” he said, looking around the waiting room. As he noticed our huge group, he added, “But family only.”

 

Everyone stood up and followed the doctor. I trailed after them slowly, not knowing what to do. Would I be allowed to see Nathan? As I watched everyone disappear into a hospital room, I decided I didn’t care what the doctor said. One more person wouldn’t hurt. Just as I was about to duck in, Lee stepped out into the hall to face me.

 

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked me with his usual scowl on his face.

 

“To see Nathan,” I told him with a determined look on my face.

 

“Didn’t you hear the doctor?” he asked. “Family only.”

 

“Lee, come on,” I responded, and I could hear the hurt in my tone. “I live with you guys. I count too.”

 

“Jackie,” he said slowly, a cruel gleam in his eyes. “You could live with us for the rest of your life and it wouldn’t matter. You will never be part of our family.”

 

I turned away from him, letting the words sink in. He was right. I didn’t belong.

 

“Besides,” Lee said, hissing at me, “why should you get to see him when it’s your fault he’s in here?”

 

“What?” I squeaked, not believing my ears. I turned to face him, in spite of the fact that my eyes were starting to water. His gaze locked with mine, his expression venomous.

 

“You heard me,” he drawled. “This never would have happened if you’d gone running with Nathan. But you were too busy sulking in your room, weren’t you? All because Alex doesn’t like you anymore.”

 

It was as if he’d slapped me. “No,” I said, shaking my head, but I was already reeling from his implication and I took a step back in horror.

 

Lee’s lips curled in disgust. “Just go away, Jackie,” he told me.

 

And I did.

 

It was the last place anyone would ever look for me. I didn’t know how I ended up there, but Will had always been nice whenever I saw him. He rented a small one-bedroom apartment in town that was only a fifteen-minute walk from the hospital.

 

I’d been to his place once before when Katherine asked Cole and me to drop off a box of invitations that she wrote out for Will and Haley’s upcoming wedding. That was over a month ago, and I was afraid I’d forgotten how to get there. But the apartment complex was right off the main road, and when I spotted it, I let the air pent up in my lungs slip passed my lips in relief.

 

Nobody answered when I first knocked. I was afraid momentarily that he wasn’t home, but when I pounded for the second time, Will pulled open the door, still half asleep.

 

“Jackie?” he asked, his eyes squinting in the daylight. His usual ponytail was missing, and his blond hair fell down to his shoulders. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Sorry, Will. I didn’t mean to wake you,” I said, wringing my hands behind my back. “It’s just that, when we first met, you told me that if I ever needed anything I could talk to you.”

 

“Oh,” he said, pulling open the door. “Come in.”

 

The inside of Will’s apartment was a cave. There was only one window in the main room, and the black curtains were drawn closed to keep the space dark.

 

“Make yourself comfortable,” he said, shutting the door, which cut off the room’s only source of light.

 

I carefully made my way toward what looked like the outline of a couch, and I managed to get there only banging my toe once.

 

“Would you like some coffee?” Will asked.

 

I could hear him navigating through the darkness like an expert, guided by the numbers on the microwave’s digital clock like a sailor with the night constellations.