I had tried to justify going home at lunch so I didn’t have to face my friends, but that would only make Dallin’s statement about me seem true. I clutched my brown lunch sack in my fist and stepped into the cafeteria. The wall of noise hit me first, then the competing food smells—today it was mostly spaghetti and garlic. I kept my focus and headed for our table.
Lisa smiled and slid down the bench to make room for me. It wasn’t until I was seated and took in all the other smiling, talking faces that I realized Dallin wasn’t there. A scan of the room didn’t locate him either.
“Where’s Dallin?” I asked Lisa.
“Not sure.”
So he was the one running away now? I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry that I was the only one who got to see Jeff last night,” I said to the table.
Avi patted my arm. “I’m not mad. You’re the one who might actually make a difference. You like each other. I hear emotions can play a big part in healing.”
The rest of the group chimed in with various versions of how they weren’t mad at me either.
“Autumn, the miracle worker,” Lisa said quietly from beside me with a smile.
I wasn’t sure if she was talking about healing Jeff, or smoothing things over with my friends. Either way, “I still have some work to do.”
Lisa took out one of her Oreos and handed it to me, then, as if she knew I was saying all this because of Dallin, she said, “Dallin is an idiot.”
I smiled and took a bite, glad to know she was on my side . . . if there were sides. There weren’t sides. I was going to fix this.
“He’s out of the ICU?” I hugged Mrs. Matson. I couldn’t believe how happy I was to be on a different floor. With different chairs and a different television in the corner.
“Yes.” She was beaming with excitement.
“Did you text Dallin?” I had gotten the text after school and waited a full hour before I came because I wanted him to be able to come first.
“Yes, but I think he has baseball practice or something.”
“Oh. Right.” Crap. Were they already starting that? It seemed so early. Must’ve been preseason. “So is Jeff talking yet?”
“He’s a lot more aware but still sleeping most of the time. The doctors are slowly weaning him off his pain medication. They think that might be part of the reason he’s not fully awake. Come. He needs to see you.”
His room was smaller but with fewer machines. And he had a window this time that overlooked the parking lot. I sat down next to him and took his hand. “Hey, Jeff. We miss you. I need you to get better. Maybe you can talk to Dallin and tell him I’m a decent human being. He seems to think otherwise right now. That’s a good reason to talk, yes? For my benefit.”
Another good reason to talk was so I stopped telling so many bad jokes. That would be for his benefit, of course. If he’d heard any of them, that is.
He let out a small groan and my heart jumped.
“Jeff?”
He rolled his head to the side and his eyes fluttered open. His mom had said he’d been awake more but I hadn’t anticipated how much clearer his eyes would look. Like he could actually see me. Joy rushed through me.
“Hi,” I said softly.
A smile played on his lips.
“Your mom would be really happy if you talked. Seeing your gorgeous green eyes is enough for most of us, but not for her, apparently.”
He squeezed my hand and then closed those eyes. I waited, hoping maybe he just needed to rest for a minute, but he didn’t open them again.
I was feeling pretty good about this report I’d be able to give to Mrs. Matson, until I arrived at the waiting room and saw Dallin there waiting to talk to her as well. She was having a discussion with the doctor.
“You had to be first,” Dallin said under his breath to me when I joined him.
“I tried to wait. I didn’t realize baseball practice had started.”
Mrs. Matson came over to us. “So the doctor still thinks it’s important that he not have a lot of activity in his room for the next little while. I want all of you to be able to see him, but we’re going to have to keep it to a minimum. One extra guest a day.”
“Dallin can still see him today, though, right?” I asked in a panic.
“Yes, of course. But can you work it out with your friends so that he doesn’t get overwhelmed with visitors?”
“Yes,” I said, then bit my lip. “I mean, yes, Dallin can create a schedule.”
“Will you, Dallin?” Mrs. Matson asked.
“Yes,” he said shortly.
“I better go,” I said. Mrs. Matson didn’t need my report. Nothing new had happened. “Have a good visit.”
Dallin only nodded. I had wanted to fix this, but somehow I’d made it even worse.
CHAPTER 31
Mr. Peterson must’ve told him who was waiting, because Dax came out to the porch prepared to leave—shoes, jeans, and jacket on. He shut the door behind him and headed to my car with just a “Hey.”
“Hi,” I said, catching up to him.