He folded up the letter and stuffed it back in the envelope.
I wondered if I should’ve added more. My words were supposed to be funny, but they sounded bitter. I was still angry with him for getting caught, I realized, for brushing me off at the house, and at school for that matter, for being able to close the door so easily.
“I have some photo homework to do. Can I go down to the park for a little bit?”
“Sure.”
In my room, I slung my camera bag over my shoulder, grabbed my jacket and scarf, and headed to the garage for my bike. When I was shooting outdoors, it was so much easier to travel on my bike than in the car.
I stopped at the park up the street. Even with snow still on the ground, it was full of bundled-up kids. I dropped my bike by the racks, traipsed through the slush, and found a group of bare trees.
As I brought my camera up to my eye, I let out a sigh. It had been too long since I’d looked at the world through the lens. It helped clarify things for me, straighten out my thinking. Looking at the harsh angles of the bare tree, its background bleak, I knew I was letting my life get blurry. I needed to focus on what mattered—Jeff.
Lisa didn’t go to the hospital with me this time, and as I walked into the lobby I wondered if it was a mistake to go alone. It was too late to change my mind now—Mrs. Matson had just caught my eye across the room. She jumped up faster than I thought possible, stopping mid-sentence with the lady next to her to race toward me.
“Autumn! I’m so happy you’re back. The best thing happened after you left the other day! He squeezed my hand.”
“He’s awake?”
“No, not awake yet, but that’s the first time there was a sign that there is that possibility.”
“That’s great.”
“It was you.”
I stared at her for a long moment before I said, “No. It was your hand he squeezed. I’m sure it was you. He didn’t move at all for me.”
“I’d been here days and nothing. You were here minutes and . . .” She trailed off and hugged me. “You are like a miracle. You came back from the dead and now you’re here to share the good karma.”
“I wasn’t dead.”
She ignored my statement. “They’re going to stop the medicine that’s keeping him under now. See if he’ll wake up.”
“They are? That’s amazing.”
“When he wakes up they’ll be able to assess things more. See the extent of his injuries. Come on. You need to see him.”
His eyes were less swollen today, although now that the swelling was down I could see the discoloration around them more clearly. Just like the other day, she left me in the room with him. I sat down, and it was like my body remembered exactly how it was supposed to act in here because it was immediately back on high alert. Stop it, I told my body. You’re fine. Look where he is.
“Hey, Jeff. What have you been up to?” I smiled. “I know, my jokes are getting lamer.” I put my hand on his arm again. “I bet you’re so bored. I mean, if you are aware at all. I should read to you or something. Is that what is customary when a friend is in your situation? It seems like that always happens in the movies. What would you even like to read? I don’t think I know that about you.” If I were honest, I didn’t know that many meaningful things about Jeff. I mean, I knew the same things everyone else who hung out with him knew—he liked baseball and practical jokes and was very smart—but it wasn’t like we’d ever had a deep conversation.
“Maybe I should ask your mom if you have a journal. I could read that to you. Unless you want to object. No?” I sighed. “Sorry, they really are getting lamer.”
I looked back over my shoulder, toward the door. It had been a couple of minutes. I was surprised his mom hadn’t come in to tell me that time was up yet. This was all the time I had gotten before. Maybe longer visits had been approved in the last forty-eight hours. Because he squeezed a hand. I stared at his hand for a moment and then placed my palm beneath it. “Jeff? Can you hear me?” I closed my hand around his, then held my breath as I waited to feel something back.
Nothing.