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I looked at Giselle, ignoring him. “This is good news because they already know what’s wrong with you and how to treat it. You’re going to the best hospital. They will find answers, and I’ll find you mom if it kills me, okay?”


She nodded, but I could see she was shut off. She was trapped in the doctor’s first sentence.


I looked at the doctor; I needed my cell phone and for him to go away. “I will talk to her.”


He agreed with a head nod and walked from the room.


I sprang from my bed like a sloth and started my emergency texting. I messaged my sister.


“Dude, get G’s dad here 911”


Clearly not understanding, she texted me back.


“???”


“No time 2 talk get her dad he’s sleeping @ work. Tell him 2 bring the visa bill with the resort name on it his wife is staying @”


“??OK??”


“U HAVE 10 MIN 2 B Here”


“KK”


Then I sent Blake a message.


“U :* my sis??”


He messaged me back instantly.


“</3 Sooooo Sorry”


His broken heart meant nothing, I decided. I turned my phone off. At least he never knew I liked him.


I looked back at Giselle, who was sitting up, staring blankly at the bed. I turned my phone back on and ignored the messages I was receiving from Blake. I Googled, liver disease. Not that I needed to, I could have told her everything she needed to know. Sometimes reading made people feel better; it did me anyway. I read for about half an hour, looking for a bright side. I didn’t find one. I decided not to share my findings. Or focus on them.


From the article, it looked like we had drug-induced Cholestasis, which was likely to last a month or so in a worst-case scenario. In Giselle’s case, an allergic reaction triggered the worst worst-case scenario, which looked like an acute case of hepatitis.


I looked at her. “This is going to be treatable at the hospital. In the city, they have resources we don’t.”


Giselle smiled. “I’m glad you’re going to be okay.” The look in her eyes was killing me.


She seemed to be coming to terms very quickly with her situation, which saddened me. Giselle should be screaming and having a fit, but she seemed to be used to disappointment. It was not how I would have imagined her.


I saw Giselle's dad rushing for our room in his rumpled suit. My sister was hot on his heels. “Oh my God, Giselle—oh my God. Baby, are you okay?”


He knelt at her bedside, crying. It disgusted me to see him. She was comforting him. Giselle had the most selfish parents I had ever seen.


I got up from my bed and left them alone. The doctor stormed into the room; he looked very angry with Giselle’s dad. Evidently, leaving your eighteen-year-old to cope with liver disease alone was not cool, even to doctors with no bedside manner.


I dragged my IV machine, squeaking the whole way to where my sister stood. She was holding the piece of paper I had asked for.


“He gave it to you?” I asked, looking at the visa bill.


She smiled. “Yeah, I told him about Giselle being sick and the hospital trying to reach him. He's been drunk in Handley for three days, and before that in Portland on business. He went home a few times, but never checked the messages. He just thought she was out with friends. He's a douche.”


I shook my head, taking the visa statement. “What an idiot.”


I looked at the charge on the visa; “Grand PLDM White Sds Rst, $3200.00”. I punched the code into Google with the word Mexico in front.


I felt like Nancy Drew. “Ha, look at that—Grand Palladium White Sands Resort in the Mayan Riviera. There is a number here.” I dialed, feeling hopeful.


The lady on the other line spoke quickly and I smiled and spoke back to her in fluent Spanish.


I hung up the phone as my sister crossed her arms. “What did you say?”


“I told her that I needed Pilar to come home, that her daughter was being taken to Children’s and was very sick. That’s what’s happening.”


I looked into the room to see Giselle’s dad talking with the doctor and nodding his head with a blank stare. He understood what he was being told, but didn’t comprehend what it meant.


Giselle looked off out the window. It troubled me to see her like this—my new friend who I had known my whole life.


The stretcher came for her while we were in the hallway. The helicopter had arrived to transport her. Giselle’s dad kissed her hand and ran from the hospital.


I walked back into the room as they were strapping her in for the ride. “I’ll get my dad to let me come see you next week when you’re settled in. Text me when you get there, ok?”


She nodded. “See you soon then. My dad is going to drive to the hospital now.”


I hugged her and felt her hands grip onto me intensely. “Be strong, ok?” I whispered into her ear.


She nodded and the doctors took her away. My sister waved to her from the hall and blew her a kiss as they passed by. Giselle blew her a kiss back, but looked for me to wave once more.


One more night in the hospital wasn’t so bad, but it would be completely alone. Not an exciting notion.


“So what exactly is going on, Aimes? What’s wrong with Giselle?” My sister stood beside me, watching where Giselle had left.


“The drug that we took was poorly made, to say the least, and almost killed us. But apparently, in rare cases, an allergic reaction can occur causing an inflammation—”


Alise held her hands up, cutting me off. “Whoa, dumb it down.”


“She has the beginning stages of liver disease, which can lead to liver failure, and in some people, can lead to death.”


My sister opened her mouth in understanding. “Ohhhh, okay. So why didn’t that happen to you?”


I shook my head. “Her reaction was an allergic reaction. We both reacted to the drug, but she is allergic to what is in the drugs.”


“You got lucky.” Alise plainly wasn’t getting the fact that, no matter what, I never would have had the reaction Giselle did. The fact that I clearly wasn’t allergic to the drugs we took was too foreign for her.


I nodded. “Yeah, and Giselle got unlucky.”


Sometimes talking to Alise cheered me up, like watching a chimp in heels walk around in lipstick.


“Will you be okay?” Alise looked concerned. These were new expressions for her. She was lost on how to make them perfect. Instead, she looked a little constipated.


I smiled. “Yeah, in a month or so the damage to my liver should be healed, but just in case, I can’t drink, eat red meat or fatty foods, or do drugs.”


She laughed. “So, just go back to boring old you?”


“Yeah, sleep, math club, chess club and homework. All that clean living you refuse to attempt.”


Alise wrinkled her nose and leapt on me. “No way—too boring.” Her abrupt and sudden hug scared me. She pulled back just as quickly. “Okay, well I have to go to Shane’s house and break up with him, before he finds out I kissed Blake. I know Giselle heard everything.”


“Yeah, I don’t think she is texting your friends right now to tell them that; she has a lot on her mind.”


Her silver eyes sparkled. “You don’t know the real Giselle, only the sick Giselle. They are different people. See you later, gator.” She walked out clicking on the shiny, industrial flooring in her high-heeled boots, which came over her knees.


“Julia Roberts wants her boots back,” I shouted at her.


She laughed, throwing her head back and waved backwards without looking, and I was alone.


I sat on my bed and thought about the last week. Where had it gone? I felt the warm wind as the papers beside my bed rustled. I looked around. “Mom?”


I couldn’t smell her and I couldn’t see her, but I knew she was there. I let the wind wrap around me. “I didn’t forget about you, Mom. It’s just been a rough week,” I whispered to the room.


The wind was gone, as quickly as it had hit. I lay back on the bed and felt my eyes start to droop.


They fluttered a few times, but the wind came back. It tickled across my bare arms and cheeks. I lazily lifted one eyelid. The bright, white-blue eyes were all I saw. The corners of my mouth lifted. "You came back."


"You can see me? Even though you're dreaming?" his voice was a deep whisper.


I lifted my lid again and nodded. "Of course I can, silly."


The warm wind floated over me. I reached a hand out. The warmth I touched made me freeze. He was real. He was really there. My heart started to pound. Both eyes opened. "Did you come back to finish me off?" I whispered, terrified.


He looked crushed. I couldn’t help but stare at his beautiful lips. "No. Of course not. Why would you say that?"


My hand gripped the back of his. "Did you drug me?"


He frowned. "What? No. I'm not real, Aimee. I'm a figment of your imagination."


The warmth in my hand proved he was there, until he wasn’t. He was gone. I clenched my hand. My palm was still warm from touching him. I looked around the room. He wasn't there. Had he really been there? I heard footsteps. My insides clenched, until I saw it was Blake walking through the doorway. His face was a mask of shame. I hoped he would wear it for a while, even if I were grateful it was him.


“Hey.” He sat on the chair across the room from me. “Where's Giselle?” he asked looking at her now-empty bed.


I frowned. “It’s not good. She had an allergic reaction to the drugs.” His eyes grew wide as I explained the whole situation with Giselle and her dad and mom. We talked like things had never changed, but they had, and I saw him in a new light, one I didn’t know how to feel about.


Chapter Three


Beautiful boys everywhere... oh, and a stalker.


My room hadn’t changed in a week, but I felt like a stranger in it. The walls were exactly the same, but they felt closer around me. The experiences I had been through in such a short amount of time seemed to have shifted my mind. As if it narrowed in some aspects, but broadened in others. Giselle was a new addition to my life. Instead of being besties with my sister, she seemed to prefer my company. It was weird for me; I didn’t even know how to work the change into my day-to-day. The text messages were coming every few minutes. It really was no wonder that Alise was so stupid. She had friend’s texting her hundreds of text messages consisting of garbled English 24/7. She didn’t have time to do anything but underachieve.