Nat shrugged. “Not sure. Maybe he went to homeroom already.”
I sighed. I had a bad feeling about this day and particularly about this Sarah person, who seemed to have spent time with Jesse this summer unbeknownst to Nat and me. Once upon a time, Jesse would have made fun of a girl like that to Nat and me, but he seemed to like her well enough today.
We threaded our way toward the classrooms. Nat and Jesse had the same homeroom, but I was on my own. We caught up with Jesse just outside the door to their classroom.
“I wondered where you guys had gone,” he said. “I turned around and I couldn’t find you. Did you get your lockers to work?”
I arched my eyebrows. “Yep. You might not have lost us if you hadn’t been giggling with your girlfriend.”
I expected Jesse to laugh at the joke, but instead he frowned at me. “She’s not my girlfriend. I just got to know her over the summer. I cut the grass at her house.”
“And inspected the sprinklers?”
“I was finishing up one day, and Sarah brought me out a drink. While we were standing there talking, the sprinklers came on, and we both got soaked. That’s all there was to it.”
I didn’t have time to answer. Nat pulled at Jesse’s arm. “We have to go in, Jesse. She’s starting to take attendance. See you at lunch, Abby.”
I gave Nat a half-hearted wave and glared at Jesse once more before I flounced off to my own homeroom.
Chapter 5: Nathan
I was ten when I first overheard a doctor talking about life expectancy. He and my parents had sent me out to get some water in the waiting room while they chatted in his office. I came back quietly enough that none of them heard me, and I realized the doctor was talking about me in a very solemn tone of voice.
“There’s every reason to expect that Nathan will live well into his early adulthood. We’re doing everything we can, and who knows what treatment might be discovered by the time he’s eighteen? The important thing is to help him to enjoy every minute. Quality of life, you know, and Nathan has that in spades.”
My mother sighed, and my father cleared his throat. I stood frozen just outside the doorway.
My dad asked quietly, “Is there anything else we can do right now? More therapies, other doctors at other hospitals?”
“We’re doing everything we can,” the doctor repeated, patience in his voice. “I make it a point to keep up with all the articles and papers published on this condition. If I think there’s anything that will help him, you know I’ll be the first to let you know. Try not to let what might happen in the future rob you of what you have here in the present—a wonderful loving son.”
I couldn’t stand it any longer, and I stepped loudly in the hallway before I pushed the door open. My mother turned toward me, her eyes bright and a smile on her lips. She grabbed her purse and patted my father’s arm.
“Are we all set then? Ready to go home?”
On the drive home, my mom chattered about everything and nothing. My father chimed in only when she specifically addressed him, and I was silent. As soon as the car pulled into the driveway, my mother jumped out and said something about getting dinner in the oven. My father climbed out of the driver’s seat more slowly and opened the back door for me.
“Dad?” I said. “Can I ask you something?”
He smiled at me and tousled my hair. “Sure, kiddo. Anything. What’s up? Woman trouble?” My father always did that, pretended that we were talking man to man and that I might really have some sort of adult problem that we could discuss.
I shook my head. “No. I just wanted to ask you. Am I going to die? I mean, like soon? Like sooner than most people?”
His face fell into the less familiar lines of sadness. He didn’t ask me why I wanted to know or pretend that I was posing a silly question. Instead he answered me thoughtfully.
”No one knows the answer to that question, Nat. We’re on this earth for a certain span of time, and truthfully, no one can tell us what the future holds. My grandfather lived to be 102, and my dad is still going strong. But I could walk out to get the paper in the morning and get hit by an out of control car. We just don’t know. We try our best to stay healthy and safe, but life is a fragile thing sometimes.”
“But what about me, about what’s wrong with me? It makes me different from other kids, but is it going to make me die younger too?”