I am flying high and with good reason. My doctor switched me out from a wheelchair to crutches, and while I’ll miss being low enough to hear what everyone is saying, moving around is a heck of a lot easier. While that’s awesome, the biggest news is the best news of all. I went in for a checkup after the operation, and Dr. Jensen took a look at my chart and said the most magic words I’ve ever heard in my life. “I’d like to refer you to an endocrinologist and get you tested for acromegaly.”
Acromegaly. Gigantism. Meaning there might actually be a reason why I’m so big, meaning there might actually be a way to stop it. True, my mom is already freaking out because there’s a possibility for brain surgery to noodle with my pituitary gland in case there’s a tumor on it or something, but I’m like, Sign me up. Here’s a butter knife; go get that benign beauty. My dad was filled to the brim with tumors like the ultimate cancer pi?ata, so who knows if he had acromegaly too? Maybe that was the start, like a domino effect or something.
It’s making me feel like I have a chance to nip it all in the bud. The only thing that’s bumming me out is I have to wait a million years for my appointment. I had no idea endocrinologists got so backlogged.
Another day ends and another bell rings. School lets out, and JP and I leave at the same time, surrounded by the same guys who generally follow us around.
JP’s girlfriend of the week stops by. Bailey is like all the others. She’s nice, with long hair, and instantly all smiles once she meets up with him. Which for Bailey is weird. Every class I’ve ever had with her, and we share plenty, she’s like her very own TED Talk. Lots of thoughts about what happens if you can’t break through a cellular wall, and how hard it would be to trawl the giant plastic patch in the Pacific Ocean and recycle it. What if? What then? How come? Bailey can brainstorm forever. Under JP’s arm, she smiles in proud silence. He’s hers. For now.
“Oh man, I almost stepped on that dead banana slug,” he says. “Nasty.”
“Ew…,” Bailey moans.
On the sidewalk, a dried-up slug from last night’s rain shower lies shriveled up from the surprise afternoon sunshine. Confused silvery trails twist all over the pavement until they come to a stop under the dead snail without a shell. JP nudges it with his toe, mushing its corpse. “Why do they even bother?”
“Rain forces them out,” I say. “Not his fault the sun got him.”
JP scrapes his foot on a low brick wall. “Now there’s gunk stuck on the bottom of my shoe. He should’ve saved time and died at home.”
“That’s nature. You can’t expect something that wants to live to give up just because you think it’s gross.”
“Slugs can be cool sometimes,” Bailey says. “They have retractable eyes! And—”
JP snorts. “Who cares? It’s not a bug you can use and actually get something out of, like a bee or Venus flytrap or whatever. If that slug had accepted its fate and died like it was supposed to, then it wouldn’t have ended up on my shoe.”
“All it wanted was to live a happy life. You can’t blame someone for trying,” I say.
“Shoe,” JP reiterates.
“But you were the one who stepped on it,” I say.
“Whatever.” He stops and stares past my shoulder. “Oh my god, who is this?”
I pivot. “Jamie!”
“Hi!” she calls back. Jamie coasts down into our school’s drop-off zone on a shiny pink bicycle, scarf billowing behind her, hair flying. Like she’s descending from on high and gracing us with her presence. I feel warm all over.
She slows to a stop and dismounts, flinging the kickstand with her toe. “Hope you don’t mind—I wanted to show off my new wheels.”
“They’re great,” I say.
There are no games with us, and I hitch my way over to her. I make a motion that I’m headed for her cheek and she leans forward, meeting me with a smile. I bend down and give her a kiss right on the apple. “Congrats on the new crutches,” she says.
“I’m free!” I say before introducing her. “JP, this is Jamie. The girl I was telling you about.” Once I had proof, I showed him the text where she couldn’t decide what jammies to wear to bed, the pink or the purple. It was cute and goddamn sexy.
JP’s mouth is open. He eyes her up and down, lingering on her face, her legs, her hair. That’s right, JP, Jamie’s frigging beautiful and she’s all mine. “Hey,” he finally says.
Jamie blinks once she notices him, and I move closer to her. You’re here for me, I want to say. Not him. I’ve seen that melted-ice-cream face on girls once they meet JP. If I see it on Jamie’s face, I might die. “Tell us about your bike,” I say.
She snaps back to me with her bright white smile. “My dad got it for me last night because he wants me to stop riding the bus. So cute, right?” Pretty cute, indeed. “It’s got a basket and tassels on the handlebars and everything.”