More Than Jamie Baker (Jamie Baker #2) (13 page)

Ryan had been about to kiss me, but at my confession he threw his head back and laughed. I gave him a light punch, but it didn’t settle him. I wasn’t surprised. My inability to keep from exploding things had always amused him.

“Don’t worry,” he said, wiping a tear from his eye, still laughing hard. “I have extras. Lots.”

“You know me so well.”

“That I do,” he agreed, and then kissed me. “Come on, let’s go fix you necklace and you can tell me all about tonight.”

Ryan wasn’t kidding about the extra lightbulbs. He’d found a wholesaler and bought in bulk. He’d even bought a special pair of tweezers that were just for getting the bottoms of the exploded lights unscrewed from my necklace.

As he fixed my necklace, I gave him all the details of my visit to Tennessee. He wasn’t thrilled to hear about the shotgun, but I assured him everything had been fine. I’d had control of the situation.

We rested on his bed, wrapped in each other’s arms until Ryan started yawning. He never lasted very long anymore. He had early morning classes because of his afternoon practices and was now practically on the same dinner schedule as the over eighty crowd.

After a couple minutes, his arms relaxed and he began to breathe heavily. I sighed and pulled myself out of his bed. I gathered up all the gifts he’d given me tonight and snuck out without waking him.

Becky was still out with Teddy when I got back. I found a place to hide my uniform, but as I started to put the police scanner with it I was hit with curiosity. I turned it on and listened. Ryan was right about needing to learn the codes, but after a quick Google search I was able to pick out some of them. I made a small cheat sheet, and then went back out to see if I could help someone else. I headed back to Tennessee, figuring it was better not to draw attention to my own city.

I finally stumbled into bed
sometime around four in the morning. I’d had a long night, but it was worth it. I’d pulled an elderly couple from a burning house before the fire department got there, and I’d prevented a waitress from being robbed of all her tips. Apparently I didn’t always need the police scanner, because I’d been walking the streets and heard the woman’s cry for help from four blocks away.

I slept late and woke up to the smell of fresh coffee. Becky was waving a paper cup above my face and giggled when I smiled. “Late night?” she asked, handing me the cup once I sat up.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I said, and changed the subject. “So, are there bagels to go with this coffee?”

Becky smiled and tossed me a bag. “Toasted onion with garlic cream cheese.”

“So?” I asked, accepting the breakfast. I scooted over, making room for Becky to join me.

Becky’s eyes sparkled as she made herself comfortable. “It was nice,” she said with a happy sigh. “Teodoro is different. I can’t exactly put my finger on what it is, but he’s not like other guys.”

“You can say that again,” I teased. “Becky! Don’t keep me in suspense. Did he ask you out again? Did you guys kiss?”

Becky’s face fell. “No and no. I didn’t get any kind of vibe from him. Actually, I’m pretty sure he likes me, but I don’t think he
likes
me, likes me.”

I frowned, unconvinced. “Maybe he’s just waiting for you to make the first move. I mean, I did threaten him on your behalf.”

Becky laughed. I was glad to see her hope return. I was going to have to have a talk with Teddy soon. “Well, tell me you at least got his number. We’ll invite him over and I’ll analyze the situation for you.”

“Let me guess. You’ll help move things along.”

“Of course!” I laughed. “What are roommates for, if not playing matchmaker? We can even go shopping this afternoon and find a new outfit that he absolutely can’t resist.”

“Oh man, that sounds so much more appealing than the day I have planned.” With a groan, Becky climbed off my bed and switched on the small TV we’d crammed into our dorm room before picking up her flat iron and going to work on her hair.

“My Grandma is visiting from Florida. She’s a beast. She makes my mother go absolutely crazy. They hate each other and will spend Grandma’s entire visit forcing my dad to take sides in their ridiculous arguments. Pretty much the only thing they agree on is how I’m not living up to my potential. Smart girls shouldn’t be cheerleaders. Smart girls should be at a respectable university. Beautiful girls like me should have nice young men lined up to marry them. Ugh.”

Becky continued on with her rant, but I’d stopped hearing her. All of my attention was now focused on the TV where a smiling Chelsea was clinging to sobbing parents.

I turned up the volume just in time to hear Chelsea say, “She said she isn’t an angel, but I think she’s just not supposed to tell. She ran faster than a jet and jumped all the way over the river so she could save me, and she shot lightning out of her hands! She was real nice, though. She said I was the bravest girl she ever met.”

The report then cut to an interview of the group of policemen that I’d handed Chelsea off to. Several of them spoke of how I’d just disappeared in front of their eyes. The one I’d spoken to, an Officer Barton, described our encounter and my glowing yellow eyes. He told the reporters I’d left Chelsea’s kidnapper tied to a tree for them to find. The picture cut quickly to a shot of the creep shouting cries of “witch!” and “devil woman!” The report ended with Officer Barton saying that he believed I might actually have been Chelsea’s guardian angel.

“Crazy, isn’t it?” Becky’s voice startled me back to reality. “That story is everywhere this morning. On the way to get our bagels I must have heard twenty different people talking about Chelsea’s Angel.”

Chelsea’s Angel. I smiled to myself, remembering the big eyes of that adorable little girl when she asked where my wings were. But at the same time, my stomach started churning from anxiety. It was one thing to know this was a good idea last night, but now that the reality of what I’d done—exposed myself to the world—was starting to sink in, I had a hard time not panicking.

It was hard to keep up the pretense of “nothing’s wrong,” so I threw on some jogging clothes, wished Becky luck with her mom and grandma, and told her I was going for a run. I wasn’t in the mood to run, though. Instead, I bought a copy of every Chelsea’s Angel article I could find.

The people of Knoxville were quick to connect the dots between Chelsea’s rescue and the two other incidents I’d been involved with last night. Not hard to do considering the elderly couple, the waitress, and her mugger all spoke of a masked girl with superhuman abilities and glowing yellow eyes.

To say I’d caught people’s attention would be a gross understatement.

I meant to go find a quiet place to think, but for some reason ended up back in the ICU. I slipped into Mike’s room without giving much thought to the fact that it was Sunday morning and his parents might be there.

“Sorry!” I gasped, feeling every bit as startled as they did. “I just wanted to…” To what? Come check on him? Come say hi? What was I even doing here? “I know it’s supposed to be immediate family only. Sorry.”

I backed out of the room, but only got a few steps down the hall when Mike’s parents stepped out of his room and called after me. “Hang on a minute, honey,” his mom said. “It’s okay.”

His dad looked at me thoughtfully and added, “You look familiar. You’re Ryan’s girlfriend, right?”

“Yes, sir. Jamie Baker.”

Mr. Driscoll smiled. He and his wife—along with the rest of the world—adored Ryan. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s good.”

“That coach being good to him?”

“He’s working him really hard, but Ryan says he’s a great coach.”

Mrs. Driscoll stepped forward as if to intervene before her husband started talking college football, and surprisingly reached for my hand. “Do you come to visit Mike often?”

She was smiling like it was this big, considerate gesture. She didn’t know the part I’d played in his being here. I shrugged uncomfortably. “Once or twice.”

“Would you like to go see him for a bit? We can head down to the cafeteria for a while.”

“Oh, um…” What could I say? His mom was looking at me as if she thought having one of his friends visit him might pull him from his coma. Who was I to shatter the illusion?

Guilt is the worst feeling on the planet.

“Sure. I guess. Thanks.”

Mrs. Driscoll’s face lit up. “He’ll be so grateful for your visit. Tell him we’ll be back in a little while.”

Mike had been unconscious for, like, a week now, but Mrs. Driscoll spoke as if she thought he would know I was there. It was so sad.

Mike’s parents were watching me, so I forced a smile and headed back to his room. “Well,” I said, sighing heavily as I slumped down into the chair beside his bed. “That was awkward. Your mom said to tell you they went for coffee and will be back in a little while. As if you would hear me and understand or something.” I sighed again and rubbed my tired face. “I don’t know, maybe she thinks you will. Maybe what they say about coma people is true. Or maybe your mom’s just losing it. Maybe she’s turning into a nutcase over the condition of her son and it’s all my fault.”

Suddenly I realized why I was here. Why I’d come back to this hospital room to visit a person I despised. I was venting. To the only person I really could. “They’re calling me Chelsea’s Angel.” I laughed harshly. “Me. An
angel
. I wonder if they’d still want to call me that if they knew what happened to you.”

I stared down at Mike. He looked better than the last time I was here. He had more color in his face and his bruises were starting to fade. There were fewer wires, too.

I waited for tears to come, but I didn’t feel like crying anymore. My guilt was still there, but there was also resignation. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I know saving those people last night doesn’t make up for not saving you, but maybe it’s a step toward me being a better person.” A crazed laugh bubbled up from my chest. “If I don’t get caught, anyway. The government’s probably standing outside the door with tear gas and machine guns.” My panic started to come back. “A
superhero
? What was I thinking? I’ve really screwed myself this time. I hope you’re happy. It’s all your fault, you know.”

“Baker, what are you talking about? You sound like a lunatic.”

I screamed. As I tried to restart my heart, Mike slowly pulled his eyes open.

Oh. Crap.

“You’re supposed to be in a coma!” I yelled.

Mike pinched his eyes shut and scrunched up his face like his head hurt. “I was only out for a couple of days. Would you mind keeping your freaking voice down?”

“Sorry,” I whispered automatically.

His voice was weak, but he was definitely awake—and very coherent. I was so screwed.

“What are you doing here, Jamie?”

“How long have you been awake?”

“Since you busted in on my parents.”

“Nice of you to let me know you were conscious.”

Mike scoffed. It looked like it hurt. Good.

“I was curious why the Ice Queen was sneaking into my room.” He met my eyes and smirked. “I expected you to try to smother me in my sleep or something, not apologize. Why are you talking about not ‘saving’ me, and the government coming after you with tear gas and machine guns? Who is Chelsea’s Angel?”

So, so screwed.

“Look, you can’t…” I started in a panicked voice, but who was I kidding? As if Mike would ever keep a secret to protect me! “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re on a lot of painkillers right now, right? Maybe you weren’t as awake as you thought.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it.”

“It’s not too late for me to smother you with your pillow,” I grumbled.

Mike rolled his eyes, but then let them fall closed. He looked very tired all of a sudden. Maybe I’d get lucky and he’d fall asleep and not remember this conversation.

Right. Because I was the
Luck
Queen.

“What are you really doing here, Baker?”

“I don’t know, all right?” I hissed. “I was just venting about stuff. Forget it.”

Mike opened his eyes again and looked at me as if I had completely lost it. “You needed someone to talk to and you came to
me
?”