Sam hesitated. “I thought you said you didn’t talk about it.”
“It was last night in the emergency room. I shouldn’t have brought it up, but I did.” Alex’s eyes turned almost shy. “Do you think I’m stupid?”
“No.”
“The truth, Sam.”
“No. N-O.”
“If I’m not stupid, why do you need to spell it?”
“Stop it, Alex.”
“What?”
“That.”
“What?”
Sam picked up the physics textbook and smacked Alex in the arm with it.
“Ouch.” He grimaced.
“That didn’t hurt.”
“How do you know? It’s not your arm.”
“Because it’s solid muscle. I think you broke the book,” she said, laying it back down on the bed.
“As opposed to opening it, you mean.” Alex winked. “And that’s physically impossible.
“Very funny.”
“I thought so. So you were at the game last night,” he said, his tone changing a bit.
“Cara scored me a front-row seat,” Sam told him, leaving it there.
“That ended up costing you—what?—five hundred bucks?” Alex asked, with a gleam in his eyes.
“Something like that.”
“I’ll buy you a new one with my signing bonus once I get drafted. Of course, that’s a few years off.” Alex propped himself up in bed, frowning. “Can I ask you a question?”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
“Not about school stuff. You ever do something and not remember doing it?”
“All the time. Like putting the milk back in the fridge and then rushing back downstairs thinking I left it on the counter.”
“I’m talking about more than that. Say, drawing. Like in a sketchbook. Pictures of things you’ve never seen before.”
Sam smiled, but stopped just short of chuckling. “That’s called imagination.”
“What if you don’t remember drawing them?”
“You draw?”
“I didn’t say that. Never mind,” Alex said, clearly flustered.
Then a stabbing pain bit into the center of his skull and left him wincing. He thought he might be slipping into one of his daydreams where he’d wake up with ink staining his fingers, but his head just kept throbbing.
“What’s wrong?” Sam asked him.
“I told you my head hurts.”
“I thought you were lying. We’ll pick this up later.”
“No, you’re here,” he groused. “Let’s just get it done.”
He’d slept fitfully the night before, his first ever spent in a hospital. His parents had stayed until he began to nod off but once they left, the hospital sounds and a dull light flickering in the hallway kept him from ever really fading out. And each time he managed to slip off, his sleep was marred by strange dreams that were more like movies unspooling in his mind. Visions of being chased by something that remained at the edge of his consciousness. And once when he woke up, with a jolt that rattled his spine and brought fresh pain back to his skull, a shape stood in the doorway.
It was the tall man, looming so big that the top of his head stretched beyond the frame, his sallow face bathed in inky black splotches from the hallway’s irregular lighting.
Alex had closed his eyes and then opened them again.
Nothing but hallway loomed beyond. The tall man dressed all in black was gone.
At his bedside now, Sam was still flipping the textbook’s pages in search of the right chapter. He found himself viewing her differently again, seeing more than just the glasses and perpetually overstuffed backpack. Samantha looked kind of like an athlete, even though she had given up gymnastics years ago. Shapely, with enormous hazel eyes and a head full of unruly brown hair she let wander every which way it wanted. Never wore makeup but looked great in the jeans she had on today, though her big-framed, tortoiseshell glasses kind of hid her warm, friendly eyes.
“Why don’t you get contacts?” Alex asked her suddenly.
“Stigmatism. And I tried. Couldn’t get used to them. Don’t you remember I told you that?”
“When?”
“The last time you asked.”
“Hey, you gotta cut me a break.” He tapped the side of his head. “Got my bell rung, remember? Who knows what damage has been done.”
“Just wait for the CT scan results.”
“I had a CT scan?” Alex posed playfully. “I must’ve forgotten.”
13
DR. PAYNE
“WHAT TIME ARE YOU supposed to be up at Ames?”
“How do you know I’m due there at all?”
“Because it’s Saturday. You always work there on Saturdays. I don’t want to keep you from your job.”
“It’s only a job if they pay you.”
“Like tutoring me?”
“I’m underpaid, believe me.”
“You could always quit.”
“Not until I get you through the state championship,” Sam followed.
“Cara offered to tutor me, you know. She said it would be a good opportunity to spend more time together.”
“What’d you tell her?”
“That I wanted to pass my classes.” Alex narrowed his gaze. “What is it you’re not telling me?”
“Nothing.”