Lennon's Jinx (27 page)

“We
weren’t doing anything,” Zach says. “And it’s not like you weren’t
preoccupied.”

Kelly
jerks my arm practically out of its socket. “Get the hell out of this car,
bitch.”

She’s
so much bigger than me. I’ve been used as a punching bag enough today. I don’t
want to get hit again. I glare at Zach for him to do something. Lennon would’ve
made her go away by now. He has no problem reacting.

Zach
gets out of the car. “Leave her alone. I’m the one you should be mad at. I
asked Jinx to come out here with me.”

“Oh
come on,” she says to Zach. “Jinx has had her eye on you since you dumped her.”

“Is
that what you told her?” My voice rises.

“No.
I said we drifted apart.”

Kelly’s
got me half way out of the car. I weigh just under a hundred pounds and Kelly
is five eight, almost as tall as Zach. She’s going to hit me. I can feel it. I
shrink away from her coiled arm and the perfume she must use by the gallon.

She
jerks me up to a standing position. “You got Lennon. Every girl in school would
die to have him. Why do you need Zach? How did you get Lennon anyway? His first
virgin. Or are you still teasing him like you did Zach?”

What
has Zach said to her? Anger flares deep inside me.

Zach
has made it halfway around the car while Kelly has a fistful of my shirt. I
cringe and shut my eyes. When I do, Lennon pops into my mind. How he pushed Step-monster
off me.

I
open my eyes when no punch has landed. Rena has a hold of Kelly’s free hand.
“Let go. Now.”

“What
are you going to do, Little Black Sammette?” Kelly asks.

Rena’s
not all that dark. Her face turns scarlet. “You did not just say that.”

Kelly
spins around to face Rena. Zach has made it to the passenger side. I can’t
believe Kelly would say anything so awful. Racist bitch.

It’s
muddy where she’s standing. Her heels are stuck in the goo. I knee her from
behind. It catches her just enough off balance in those heels. She falls
backward, her arms pinwheeling as she splats into the muck. I can honestly say
I don’t feel bad about her destroyed white wool coat.  

Rena
and I look at each other and burst out laughing.

Kelly’s
screaming. “I can’t believe you did that. Jinx, you’re like a freakish little
munchkin with all that orange hair.”

Zach
offers to help Kelly up.

“This
is all your fault.” She takes off her heels and climbs out of the mud. Slimy
goo cakes her coat and sticks to her hair.

“Can
you get a ride home with your friends?” Zach says to her.

Kelly
shoves him, muddying his jacket with her paw prints. “Did you just tell me to
get my own ride?”

“Yes.
I want to talk to Jinx. We have a lot to discuss.”

Kelly
stabs a finger at him and stamps her big feet, her face disbelieving. “Are you
breaking up with me?”

“We
don’t really belong together. We never did.”

Kelly
hobbles off barefoot into Candor’s. Iz and Gabby are on their way out. They
watch her return to the bar. Their mouths gape open, and they point at her and giggle.
Kelly rants all the way inside.

“Why
don’t we go somewhere else?” Zach asks. “It is your birthday.”

He
remembered and that soaks my heart with warmth.

“Zach,”
I say. “Rena’s taking me to her house since I’m now homeless.”

“You
can come over to my house. My parents aren’t home. I mean…” His face blushes.
He’s still sweet Zach, maybe not so innocent anymore, but he’s not as forward
as Lennon.

“We
can go dance a bit…if you want, but I’m going home with Rena.” I hesitantly
wait for his reaction.

Zach
takes my hand. “I’d like that.”

Before
we go back in, I check my cell. I don’t know why, but I was hoping to hear from
Lennon to see how Currie’s doing. I’ll check with Danny and Susan later.

A team of paparazzi swarms us at
the airport before we get through security. Jonathan doting over his dying
child provides him with good press.

We
are no sooner on Jonathan’s Learjet, when Mom orders champagne. Only she would
think her reunion with Jonathan warrants a celebration, especially when the
flight to Milwaukee only takes ten minutes. That gives her enough time to get
through a few glasses on his dime.

Before
we left the house, I made Currie change into pajamas, so she’d be comfortable on
the plane and for her last few hours of wakefulness.

The
Nowaks took Harry, and I left Jinx standing at the hospital to deal with her
stepfather alone—her red hair, the flame in the darkness. That eats away at me.

Tears
rim Currie’s eyes. “My head hurts.”

After
I give her more Tylenol, Currie curls up on my lap and goes to sleep. My arms
fold around her. I’m slowly dying inside. Doctor Timmons said there’s a twenty
percent chance Currie will survive. Those odds slash and burn in the pit of my
stomach.

If
it isn’t bad enough that I’m most likely going to lose her, I have to share
these last few moments with the two of them, Jonathan and Heather. I’m not sure
what I’ll do if Currie dies or how I’ll face it alone. If Jinx were here…

She
held my hand in the hospital cafeteria as I confessed my first time. Her
concern surprised and warmed me. I left out how much it hurt when I realized
that older woman didn’t give a rat’s ass about me. That she had sold me out.

I
have to focus on Currie instead of wallowing in self-pity.

The
nurse Jonathan hired lounges in a comfortable chair and sips on a ginger ale. She
has done
nada
.

I’ve
never seen Denage before and Currie hasn’t spoken much about her, probably for
Mom’s sake. Denage sits up straight with her long legs folded underneath her.
She’s an elegant woman, not drop-dead gorgeous, but sophisticated and
intelligent looking, not at all Jonathan’s type.

Jonathan
holds her hand while they sit close to each other. Mom’s infusion of alcohol
into her bloodstream and her tight fist around the flute can only mean she’s
uncomfortable and unhappy about Jonathan’s coupling with Denage, especially
after Heather got all dolled up for him.

I’m
afraid to open my mouth because of what may come out. It will only upset
Currie, and I can’t do that to her. I stare outside until we land. When the
hatch opens, I pick up Currie and carry her to the awaiting limo. She doesn’t
once wake up, and that frightens me.

The
limo drives us to the Children’s Hospital. It’s a megaplex with multiple tiers.

Jonathan
speaks quietly to Denage. “Where should we go?”

“Admissions
are in that building over there,” she says, pointing at the largest one.

We
pull up to the front. I get out and carry Currie into the hospital.

“Doctor
Yeager is expecting Currie Tyler,” I say to the staff at the front desk.

A
nurse comes around the desk. She observes the bodyguards and Jonathan but
doesn’t comment on them. “We’ll fill out the paperwork later. Let’s get her
upstairs right away. The doctor has been preparing for her arrival.”

I
already like this hospital. No waiting. “I released the paperwork from the
hospital in Naperville. They performed several tests already.”

“Doctor
Yeager has received the results and will discuss them with you.” The nurse
feels Currie’s forehead. “How are you feeling?”

Currie
blearily opens her eyes. “My head.”

“Doctor
Yeager is a specialist with the rabies virus. He’ll do his best to make you all
better.”

I
appreciate the honesty in the nurse’s words. She hasn’t promised what the
doctor may not be able to deliver.

The
nurse leads us to a room that doesn’t have a bed but is used for examining
patients. The antiseptic odor overwhelms me. I hate hospitals.

“Do
you feel good enough to stand so I can take your weight?” the nurse asks
Currie.

“I
don’t think I can.”

After
putting Currie into a chair, I get on the scales. “We’ll subtract my weight.”

The
nurse takes my weight of two hundred and ten. I pick up Currie and get back on
the scales. She weighs one hundred. She’s lost weight. Currie is almost five
feet and will probably be tall and thin like Mom.

“Would
you hold her while I get her blood pressure and temperature?” the nurse asks.

“Sure.”
I sit down with Currie cradled in my arms and roll up her sleeve. She buries
her face in my shoulder.

“Let’s
get you into the doctor now.” The nurse herds us to another room. It’s the
usual stark white with a bed and rollaway tray and bathroom. This one has
several monitors. I lay Currie in the bed. She doesn’t let go of my hand. Her
fright digs into me.

A
tall burly man wearing a white coat strides into the room while reading a
chart. “I’m Dr. Yeager.”

I
stand up and introduce myself.

Yeager
glances around the room. The nurse, Jonathan, Denage, myself, Mom, and two
bodyguards stand in it. Jonathan released the nurse he hired upon our arrival.

Yeager
feels Currie’s neck. “Does that hurt?”

“A
little.” Her face puckers. “It’s my head that hurts.”

“We’ll
do our best to take care of that.” He checks her eyes and listens to her heart
using the stethoscope. “I’d like to get started as soon as possible. Who’s
Currie’s guardian?”

“I
am,” I say.

“We’re
the parents.” Jonathan steps forward. Mom goes to his side.

“I
have legal rights to Currie,” I say.

“You
have primary custody?” Yeager asks.

“That
was never established.” It will be when I turn eighteen. “I have attorney
rights for the primary care of my sister.”

Yeager
gestures us outside. “Why don’t we take this matter to my office?”

Currie
grips my hand. “Don’t go. I’m scared.”

“I’ll
only be a moment,” I say. “There’s always a mountain of paperwork to fill out.
You know that.”

I
hand her the remote control. “Push the red button if you need me and have the
nurse come get me.”

“Promise,”
Currie says.

“I
won’t leave you.” I go with my parents and Denage. The bodyguards stay outside
Currie’s room at Jonathan’s request.

When
we are all seated in his office, the doctor says, “I need the person legally
responsible for Currie to sign these forms. I know that Lennon contacted me
from Naperville and signed for everything that was done there. How old are you,
son?”

“Seventeen.”
I slide over the document, granting me Currie’s legal rights that Mom signed in
a drunken stupor. Shortly after Jonathan left, Currie fell ice-skating and
twisted her ankle. I took her to the ER. Clive’s mom went by the house and had
Mom sign over attorney rights to me. It was best for Currie.

“I’ve
never given up my rights,” Jonathan says in a calm voice.

“No,”
I say. “You just abandoned us.” I spin around toward him with all the fury of a
grizzly bear waking from hibernation. “I don’t get you. You barely exist to
either of us.”

“I’ve
exercised my visiting rights since I’ve left. I’ve given up nothing.”

“What
do you mean? You gave us both up. You’ve never once been there for us. Either
one of you.” I point at Heather then Jonathan. “Why don’t you get on your Learjet
and fly home? We don’t need you. Currie hasn’t needed you since the day she was
born. The health insurance is even under my name.”

Jonathan
steeples his fingers. Denage gives him an encouraging nod. What is she, his
personal advisor?

Why
does her name sound familiar? That’s right. She used to be his therapist, and
now they’re screwing. Great. That’s all I need. Nothing like messing around with
your patients. She should’ve lost her license.

Jonathan
stares at his lap. “You’re right. I wasn’t a good parent, but I’d never give up
my rights to you or Currie.”

“It’s
a little late for that, Jonathan,” I say, my hands sweating as they clench and
unclench in my lap. “I’m almost eighteen, and right now, I don’t have time for
your nonsense.”

Mom
is mute throughout all this. If she could crawl under Yeager’s desk, I’m sure
she would. Embarrassment for her lack of parenting flames her cheeks as she
shrinks into her chair.

The
doctor reads over the document I gave him. “When did Currie first show any
signs of being sick?”

“Yesterday,”
I say. “She felt tired, and this morning she had a really bad headache.”

“Has
she had any seizures?”

“No.”

“When
did you find out the animals were infected?” he asks.

Now,
it’s my turn for my cheeks to burn. “Today, but the Humane Society took brain
samples from the kittens almost two weeks ago. Everyone on their staff has had rabies
shots.”

“That’s
good. Currie has a better chance than many who have come for treatment before
her. We’ll run a few more tests. I’d like for Lennon and Jonathan Tyler to
sign. The sooner we get started the better.”

I
sign immediately because Doctor Timmons in Naperville covered Yeager’s
procedure with me. He highly recommended him and said his technique is the most
advanced in the country.

Jonathan
reads it over. “This says she only has a twenty percent chance with this
protocol, and that it’s experimental. I can’t sign this. Can’t she have the
rabies shots?”

“If
Currie had been brought in before she exhibited symptoms, her odds would be
better, and we could’ve treated her with a typical protocol, but it’s too late
for that now.”

“Rabies
is treatable,” Jonathan says.

“Once
a person shows signs of rabies, it’s almost always fatal,” the doctor says. “I’ve
developed a procedure to treat infected patients. I’ve had some success and
each time improves the last.”

“What
happens if Currie doesn’t receive this treatment?” Jonathan asks.