“Sorry, Jeff, but I’m in my own car with my own blue-peg husband, and I bring home a teacher’s salary. Abandoning your surgeon career is not going to affect me.”
He flung the surgeon card at me like a Frisbee. “It’s totally going to affect you.”
“What do you really want to be when you grow up?” I asked, realizing this was something else I didn’t know about him.
“A dirt bike racer.”
“Really?”
“No, but that sounds fun. Maybe I’ll do that on the side.”
“What do you want to do when you grow up?” Mr. Matson asked me.
“I think I want to be a psychologist.” Because that was safe and secure and not risky at all. But it was more than that too. My psychologist had helped me so much over the years that I wanted to help others.
“I didn’t know that,” Jeff said. “I thought you’d do something with photography.”
“Yeah I . . .”
“Psychology is a good choice,” his dad said. “Jeff needs to decide.”
“Oh please, I’m seventeen. I have my whole life in front of me.”
His mom patted his arm. “Yes, you do. We’re lucky.”
Sitting here in the hospital with his family, I couldn’t help but think that he really was lucky that he had survived the car accident and was going to be fine. We were both going to be fine.
A man in a long white coat walked in the room. “It’s time for your daily torture,” he said. “Blood tests and physical therapy.”
“But my girl is here. Can’t it wait?”
His girl? Did he just call me his girl? Surely he hadn’t decided that without talking to me first. Not that it would surprise me. Jeff seemed to do a lot of things without thinking about them first.
“I’ll give you thirty minutes,” he said.
“Thirty minutes. That means all adults out of the room,” Jeff said.
His mom smiled but cleaned up the board and stacked it off to the side, next to the baseball bat from Dallin. And get well cards, and drawings I was just now noticing. I’d never brought him anything. My stomach began tensing up in anticipation of being alone with Jeff and the talk we needed to finally have.
The door clicked behind his exiting parents and I turned to face him.
“How is physical therapy going?”
“I’ve aged sixty years in two weeks. I need a walker and an oxygen tank.”
“And your pain? How is that?”
“Once-a-day pain meds, doc. Why so serious?”
Because I didn’t want to face what else I had to talk about. I wasn’t even sure how to start. Maybe I didn’t have to. Maybe he already had some of the information. “Have you talked to Dallin?”
“Yes, Friday. Surely you remember us being idiots.”
“I remember. You haven’t talked to him since then?”
“No, why?”
I took a gulp of air. “Do you know Dax? From school?”
He scrunched his face up as though thinking. “Dax Miller? The druggie?”
“He’s not a druggie.”
“What about him?”
“Well, he was in the library with—”
The door swung open and Dallin walked in with an “I heard you’re springing this joint on Wednesday.”
My gaze swung from Jeff to Dallin, then back again. “You get to go home on Wednesday? You didn’t tell me.”
“I was just about to. Hey, Autumn, I get to go home on Wednesday.”
“That’s great. Really great.”
“I agree,” Jeff said.
“I do too.” Dallin slid a rolling chair across the room and sat down opposite me, next to Jeff. “So, Friday night is the basketball game, but Saturday night I am throwing you a Jeff is Free party. My place. You in?”
Jeff smiled. “Since my name is in the title, I better be.”
“Isn’t that too much for you too soon?” I asked.
“Have you met my doctor, Dallin? Doctor Autumn.”
“Funny, but I’m serious.”
He grabbed my hand. “I know you are. I’ll be fine.” Then he turned to Dallin. “Is there still snow on that hill in your backyard? We need to go by the car graveyard before Saturday.”
“Yes, and yes.”
So much for talking to him today. I had a feeling Dallin was here on purpose. I had interrupted his day so he was paying me back. It was fine, though—my talk with Jeff could wait. Maybe until after the celebratory party. Jeff was having an exciting week. I didn’t need to ruin it.
CHAPTER 43
Dax was standing in my driveway when I pulled up. An embarrassing amount of relief poured through my body. He was there. I needed him and he was there. Then I remembered what I had to talk to him about first, before I got to tell him he was amazing. My eyes shot to his book that sat on the console of my car. I tucked it between the seats and rolled down my window.
“Hop in.” I didn’t want to risk my parents interrupting us.
He listened, climbing in the passenger seat, and I drove, with no destination in mind.
“I was worried you were sick today. I didn’t see you at school. I’m so happy to see you. I’ve had the weirdest day. The weirdest couple of days, actually. I need to talk it out.” I put my hand on his but he didn’t grab on or move in any way. His gaze was directed out the window. His stare was dark.