She Died Too Young (10 page)

“I
DON’T KNOW WHY
you’re dragging us to this party, Katie. I’d rather be alone with you tonight.” Josh turned off his car engine in front of the brightly lit house in one of Ann Arbor’s better residential sections.

“I told you why. Garrison invited us—both of us—and since we’ve finished our English project and today was the last day of classes and, therefore, the start of Christmas break, I
feel
like going to his party. It won’t kill you to hang around for a few hours.” Katie struggled to keep her voice light, but deep down, she was seething. Why was Josh being such a pain about attending Garrison’s party? Didn’t he realize how tense her life was these days?

Soon after returning from Jenny House, Chelsea
had taken a downward turn. She was bedridden at Katie’s house, and needed oxygen almost around the clock. It hadn’t been so long that Katie had forgotten what it was like to be tethered to an oxygen tank. She shivered, although Josh’s car was still warm from the heater.

“Well, if you’re determined to go to this thing,” Josh grumbled, “then let’s get it over with.” He stormed out of the car.

Katie opened her door and brushed past him. “Don’t do me any favors.”

“Hey, wait up.”

Katie didn’t pause, but hurried up the walkway in the biting night air.

In spite of the cold, kids congregated on the front porch, and from inside, stereo speakers blared with the latest rock music. Katie pushed inside the front door and encountered another swarm of kids. Secretly, she wasn’t too keen on attending the party either, but she knew she couldn’t back out now. She wedged her way past several dancing couples into a large, beautifully decorated living room. More kids sat on pillowed sofas and in oversize chairs and on the floor near a giant Christmas tree dressed with Victorian-style ornaments.

“Katie!” Garrison called her name, and she turned to see him make his way through a group of seniors. “I’m glad you came. I wasn’t sure you would when I invited you.” He wore a heart-melting smile.

“Is there anybody from school you
didn’t
invite?” she asked.

He laughed. “Here’s what happened. I invited a few people to a party, and they invited a few, who invited a few, and so on. It’s like growing a fungus in a petri dish. Take your coat?” He brushed her shoulders.

She took a step away, hesitant to have him touch her. “How will you ever find it again when I want to leave?”

“Don’t worry. I will.” His brown eyes bore into her until she felt self-conscious. “Where’s Josh? Did he come with you?”

Just then Josh elbowed his way alongside Katie. “I got you a soda,” he said, handing Katie a cup and eyeing Garrison.

She sipped the drink because her throat suddenly felt tight and parched. “Nice tree,” she remarked, nodding toward the Christmas tree.

“My mother’s a collector of special ornaments.”

“Where are your parents?” Josh asked the question.

“They left hours ago. They hate loud noise and anything but classical music.” He flashed his charming smile. “Just so long as the cops don’t have to come, we’ll be all right.”

Remembering how easy he was to talk to, how clever he was with words, Katie returned his smile. She felt Josh take her hand possessively. “Let’s dance.”

“Is that an invitation or a command?” She was fed up with Josh’s behavior.

Josh scowled. His eyes looked angry, and she felt tension in his grip. “I didn’t know I needed to beg a dance with my girl.”

Garrison backed away. “Look, I should mingle. If you want to talk later …”

The invitation was open-ended and to both of them, but Katie knew how Josh would take it. As soon as Garrison was out of earshot, she snatched her hand from Josh’s. “You humiliated me in front of him on purpose.”

“You were all but throwing yourself at him.”

“That’s not true!” By now, Katie was so angry, she was shaking. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you acting like a jealous idiot? I hate it, Josh.”

“Me? Jealous of that jerk? Get real! You’re the one flirting with him.”

“You listen to me, Josh Martel. I’ve had ample opportunity to flirt with him, and I never have!”

“Give me a break. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. A blind man could see it.”

Katie’s jaw went slack. She couldn’t believe Josh was saying these things to her. Hurting her with words that hit like stones. “Well, if you’ve got twenty-twenty vision,” she hissed, “watch this!” Katie turned and walked away as quickly as she could forge a path through the crowds. Hot tears stung her eyes, and her chin trembled. She shoved her way along until she was at the top of the basement stairs. Quickly, she descended to where softer music played and couples danced by candlelight, entwined around one another.

A survey of the room told her that she was the
only single person in it. She spun to return to the noisier party above and ran smack into Garrison’s chest. “Trouble in paradise?” he asked.

Tears threatened, but she didn’t like Garrison’s attitude either. “There’s nothing wrong between me and Josh.”

“You could have fooled me.” He smoothed her hair. “Calm down, Katie.”

“I should have Josh take me home,” she said quietly, self-conscious under his gaze.

“Why? You’re here now, and if I’m not mistaken, your ride’s gone off and left you.”

“Josh left?” He’d abandoned her!

“I’ll take you home.”

“But it’s
your
party.”

“Exactly. I can do whatever I want. But first, come sit with me for a minute.” He led her over to a bar, its top heaped with sodas, chips, and empty cups, and sat her down on a high stool. He stood directly in front of her and lifted her chin with his forefinger. “This fight with Josh is my fault, isn’t it?”

“It’s his fault,” she declared. “He’s making up things and letting his imagination go crazy.”

“He just cares about you. If you were my girl, I might act the same way.”

If you were my girl
 … She refused to look Garrison in the eye, unsure of what to say. If only she could think of something funny. Lacey’s words came back to her.
“He’s just messing with your head.”
Was it true? Was Garrison merely playing some elaborate game with her? “Maybe you’re
right. I am his girlfriend, and I made him bring me tonight.”

“I
was
surprised to see you.”

“Can you take me home now?”

He put his hand on her arm. “Why rush off? You’re here—have some fun.”

She glanced at the dancing couples, heard the soft, romantic music spilling through the air, watched the flickering candlelight. “I feel out of place.”

“Would you like to dance?”

“No.” The word was out before she even had a chance to think about it.

“There’s no crime in dancing with me. You and Josh aren’t engaged.”

His logic was cool and on target, and Katie realized that she did want to dance with him. She wanted to experience being in his arms, satisfy her curiosity once and for all. “I don’t think so,” she heard herself saying.

Garrison gave her a long, searching look. “Your loyalty is commendable.” His smile flashed. “And frustrating.”

She shrugged sheepishly. “It just wouldn’t be right. Not to me, anyway.”

From across the room, one of Garrison’s friends called, “Hey, Garrison, quit talking and look up.”

Simultaneously, Katie and Garrison looked. Above them, a sprig of mistletoe dangled from a string someone had thumbtacked to the ceiling. It fluttered slightly from the heated air circulating in the room.

“Looks like a perfect opportunity to me,” Garrison said.

Katie watched his mouth descend. She wanted to push away, wanted to duck and run, but she felt caught. And like a moth lured by a flame, she felt her chin lift toward him in slow, irresistible increments.

Garrison’s lips held hers for a sweet, delicious minute that sent her blood racing and her heart singing. Yet even before the kiss was over, she felt the unmistakable dagger of guilt pierce through her. Not only because she knew she was betraying Josh, but because she enjoyed Garrison’s lingering kiss to the depths of her soul.

Chelsea woke, gasping for air. Cold sweat soaked through the sheets of her bed, and pain squeezed her chest like an iron vise. She struggled for air, sucked greedily from the oxygen mask over her face, but the pure oxygen supplement brought no relief. The pain radiated in heated waves, shooting through her left breast and down her arm like the bite of a viper.

Chelsea tried to scream, but no sound came out. She tried to move, but felt pinned to her mattress like a butterfly trapped under glass, unable to flutter its wings. The pain intensified. Her heart raced, thudded, and sputtered. Its rhythm felt out of sync, as if it might tumble out of its cavity and spill out of her body.

Pinwheels of light burst behind her eyeballs, and an ominous edge of blackness crept over her
mind, storm clouds blotting out the light.
“Help me!”
her brain cried. Her hand groped for the bedside table, shoved over the clock, knocked a book to the floor, then miraculously dosed around the bell Katie had given her.

She believed she actually heard it ringing before the darkness descended and enveloped her in its cold arms.

K
ATIE STARED THROUGH
the glass partition of Cardiac ICU, feeling numb and icy cold. Chelsea lay unconscious on the bed while all around her, machines hummed and beeped. Mindless machines that held Chelsea’s fragile life signs within their mechanical grip.

The cardiac monitor sent a ragged line over its view scope, reminding Katie of fishing line tossed at random and snagged by the wind. The line dipped, then skipped. Its monotonous beeping tone pulsated inside Katie’s brain and left her trembling. She didn’t have to be a cardiologist to realize that her friend was dying.

When her ten minutes were up, Katie returned to the small waiting room where her parents sat with Chelsea’s parents. Chelsea’s mother had
found her daughter unconscious after being awakened by the ringing of Chelsea’s bedside bell. Somehow, in the midst of her pain, Chelsea had managed to get hold of it. Katie shuddered, thinking what could have happened if she hadn’t gotten hold of the bell.

Her doctor had told them down in ER that Chelsea had succumbed to a heart attack. Her poor old heart was simply worn out. She needed the transplant. Except that she’d been waiting for months, and no donor had been found. And now, her situation appeared desperate. But medical science was full of tricks. Perhaps it held one more for Chelsea.

Katie shook her head to clear it. Her brain was so tired of going over and over the same old territory. She told herself she should make some calls. Lacey should know what was happening. And Jillian. The clock on the wall said five
A.M
. Katie couldn’t call anyone just yet. Why alarm friends until she had more to tell them?

Dr. Dawson, Chelsea’s physician at the medical center, swept into the room, and instantly, everyone rose. He clasped Chelsea’s parents’ hands. “She’s stable,” he told them. “And she’s holding her own.”

“Thank God,” Mrs. James sobbed.

Katie felt her knees go weak. While Chelsea wasn’t out of the woods yet, she was better off than Katie had thought. Stability meant that her heart was pumping, and as long as it continued to pump, Chelsea was alive.

“I have other news,” Dr. Dawson said. “We received a call about an hour ago that there’s a
possibility”
—he emphasized the word—“a fair possibility that we have a donor heart available.”

With his words, Katie’s gaze flew upward. She heard Chelsea’s parents ask, “Who? When will you know for sure? Is Chelsea strong enough to withstand the surgery?”

Dr. Dawson patted Chelsea’s mother’s hand. “The victim is a seventeen-year-old girl in Columbus, Ohio. Her snowmobile hit a tree, and she sustained a massive head injury. She’s on life support now, but she’s about to be declared brain dead. The blood type is compatible, and so are her weight and size. Her family has agreed to her being a donor.”

Katie felt a mix of jumbled emotions. She recoiled at hearing the girl was being kept alive by machines, yet she experienced wild hope for Chelsea’s sake.

The doctor continued. “Our transplant team has been notified, and they’re coming in. A surgeon has been dispatched by helicopter and jet to the hospital in Columbus, and if the heart looks good, he’ll remove it, pack it in a container of dry ice, and bring it back here. It can hold up for approximately four hours this way.”

Katie saw Mrs. James shiver. She felt a wave of nausea herself. Someone’s heart—a stranger’s—would be cut out and whisked away to save someone else’s life. The process seemed both miraculous and macabre. Involuntarily, her hand slipped
to her chest, where she felt the steady beat of her own transplanted heart. Aaron’s heart.

Dr. Dawson said, “This girl’s parents are donating all their daughter’s organs, so many lives will be affected by their gift.”

“Will Chelsea get her heart?” Mr. James wanted to know.

“That’s not positive,” Dr. Dawson said, making Katie’s hopes plummet.