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Authors: Lurlene McDaniel

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BOOK: She Died Too Young
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“Who knows? Mom’s calling realtors in your area and trying to find us an apartment close to the hospital. She says we’d better plan on the long haul instead of trying to rent a motel room and live like gypsies. I think it’s better too. This way, I’ll be able to bring some of my things with me and make the place more like a home instead of a waiting cell.”

Katie thought the prospects of being cooped up in a rented apartment and not knowing anybody dismal also. All at once, an idea occurred to her. “Maybe that won’t be necessary,” she said, sitting upright on her bed.

“What do you mean?”

Katie’s voice grew with excitement. “We have a big house, and my parents know just what your mother’s going through. And you and I are best friends. Chelsea, what would you think about living here with us until your beeper goes off?”

T
wo

“S
O WHEN’S
C
HELSEA
moving in?” Josh asked Katie as they threaded their way along the crowded hallway heading for morning classes.

“This weekend. My parents were absolute angels about it. They’ve been on the phone with Chelsea’s folks every day ironing out details. Chelsea’s getting the guest room next to mine, and her mom, Lorraine, will be moving into my mom’s sewing room. Mom’s cleaning it up to make it more comfortable.”

“Your parents are pretty great,” Josh said.

Katie knew how fond Josh was of her folks. Probably because his own parents were such failures. His father, an alcoholic, abused his mother. That’s why Josh and Aaron had moved across several states and into their grandfather’s home in the
first place. Katie said, “Since fall’s my dad’s busy season at the newspaper. Mom’s really looking forward to having the company. And since she understands just what Chelsea’s parents are facing—” The first tardy bell interrupted Katie’s sentence. Josh bent forward and brushed her cheek with a kiss. “Oops! I’ve got to run. If I’m late for class …”

“See you after school,” Katie called as he sprinted off down the hall. She marched into honors English and took her seat.

“Did you do the assignment?”

Katie turned to the boy sitting behind her who’d asked the question. His name was Garrison Reilly, new to Ann Arbor High and distinctively good-looking. She purposely avoided gazing into his deep brown eyes. “Didn’t you?”

“Are you kidding? When my dad’s the chairman of the English department at the University of Michigan, what choice do I have?”

His grin was infectious, and Katie returned it in spite of herself. “I figure that puts you at an unfair advantage. What chance do we mere mortals have when you’re wired into the mother lode of English proficiency?”

Garrison’s grin grew broader. “Take it from me,
you
have more than a chance in my book.”

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Isn’t that a line in some famous book or other?”

“A line? What an unkind cut! Yours is the first pretty, friendly face I’ve met in this school.”

“Oh, cut it out,” Katie said with a laugh, playing
on his words. “We’re all friendly here at Ann Arbor High. Didn’t you read your orientation packet?”

His eyes glowed with mischief. “I read where there’s a football game this Friday night. You going?”

Suddenly, Katie realized they were flirting with each other.
What’s wrong with me?
she asked herself. She experienced an overwhelming sense of disloyalty toward Josh.

When she didn’t answer his question, Garrison gave her a questioning look. “Was it something I said?”

“What?”

“You checked out on me. What did I say to cause a retreat? Football games shouldn’t be that bad a topic for conversation.”

“Nothing. I, uh, just”—she glanced up—“see our teacher,” she finished lamely. “Class is starting.”

“So can we continue this discussion later? After school, maybe?”

Katie felt her cheeks flame red. She flipped open her book and buried her nose in it. “I have something else to do.”

“Well, tomorrow’s another day,” Garrison said over her shoulder. “Scarlett O’Hara said that in
Gone with the Wind.”
She heard him shift back into his chair.

Katie sat staring at the book without really seeing it. Her heart was thudding and her blood racing as she realized it was more than guilt she was feeling. She was attracted to Garrison Reilly, and
understanding that interest washed over her like cold water. Quickly, she scribbled Josh’s name three times on the cover of her notebook, as if by doing so, she could make the strange and peculiar sensations she experienced toward Garrison fade away.

Chelsea arrived that weekend, and even though Chelsea’s mother hovered at her side, Katie was glad to see that she could navigate the stairs under her own power. When Chelsea was settled in bed and everyone else had gone down to move Mrs. James’s belongings into the converted sewing room, Katie exclaimed, “I’m so glad you’re here. We’re going to have fun while you wait.”

Chelsea and her mom had brought a few pieces of furniture from Chelsea’s own bedroom in a U-haul trailer. Along with some medical equipment—a portable oxygen tank was propped by the head of the bed—they transformed the guest room. Katie was relieved to see that Chelsea didn’t have to be tethered to the tank day and night. At least, not yet.

“You don’t know how glad I am to be staying with you instead of in some apartment.” Chelsea glanced around the room—at the fresh bouquet of flowers on the dresser, at the TV set, at the pretty lace curtains and glittery “Welcome” banner Katie had stretched across them. “Everything except a virtual reality game.”

“Yeah. Well, I didn’t want you to get
too
comfortable.”

“The only place I’d rather be is Jenny House.” Chelsea’s voice sounded breathy, and her lips held a bluish cast.

Katie remembered her own pain from her medical ordeal. Still, she smiled brightly and said, “You’ve got that right. There’s no place better than Jenny House. As soon as you’re able, I think we should go visit.”

“Could we?”

“Look, we don’t know how long it’ll take for the transplant center to find you a heart, but as long as you’re feeling and doing well, you don’t have to be confined to bed.”

“Tell that to my mother.”

“That’s what
my
mother is supposed to do—help
yours
not to act too hyper. And believe me, my mom’s a pro when it comes to acting hyper. She almost drove me and Dad to the nut house. But after the Transplant Games, once she saw that I wasn’t going to shatter, she shaped right up.” Katie grinned. “Yours will too.”

“You don’t know my mother. She’s spent my whole lifetime hovering over me and my crummy heart. It’s her career!”

Katie laughed. “Once your transplant is complete and you’re out of danger, she’ll have to find a new career. You’re going to feel so good!”

“So, you think the center will allow me to take a trip? What if my beeper goes off while I’m out of town?”

“As long as you feel pretty good and if you only stay away for a couple of days, I’m sure it’ll be fine.
And if they find you a donor, we’ll fly straight back.”

“Dr. Hooper, my doctor at home, told me that I’d have to participate in some kind of therapy group,” Chelsea said. “Is that true?”

“It’s not so bad. Actually, the shrinks need to check you out to see if you’d make a good organ recipient.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m sure they’ve told you how few organs there are to go around. Lots of people need them, and not enough people are donating their organs or the organs of people they love who die in some tragedy.”

“You mean like Josh’s brother?”

“Exactly.” Katie remembered the things she’d been told while she awaited her transplant. In some ways, it seemed so long ago. And she’d been so sick. “Anyway, just because someone needs an organ doesn’t mean she can emotionally handle getting one. Not everyone can handle being sick or getting well.”

Chelsea nodded. “You mean like Lacey and the way she acts as if she doesn’t even have a disease.”

“Exactly. Unless she accepts her diabetes, she’d be a poor choice for a pancreas transplant, for instance. The doctors have to be sure a recipient will take care of herself, or what’s the use of transplanting? I mean, if the doctors give you a new organ and you don’t take care of yourself—” Katie shrugged to make her point.

“The transplant would be a waste,” Chelsea coneluded.
“Plus it could have gone to someone else who would have taken better care of herself. Is that what you mean?”

“Exactly.” Katie fiddled with the bedcovers while she talked. “Besides, you’ll be put in some therapy group with others waiting for transplants. I was too sick to attend one, and my transplant opportunity came up quickly, so I never went to group.”

Chelsea made a face. “It doesn’t sound like much fun—waiting around with a bunch of people desperate for an organ. In fact, it sounds sort of ghoulish to me. ‘Excuse me, miss, did you need a heart or a kidney? Could we pass you a lung?’ ” Chelsea mimicked.

“I didn’t think so either,” Katie admitted after laughing over Chelsea’s black humor. “But after spending the summer at Jenny House, after meeting so many kids who were sick with something or other, I can see how it does help to meet others like yourself. It makes you feel less alone.”

Chelsea closed her eyes, as if gathering her strength to continue talking. “Going to Jenny House and meeting you and Lacey and Amanda was the best thing that ever happened to me.” The mention of Amanda caused both Katie and Chelsea to pause. “Will it always hurt this way when we think about her?”

“Josh says no. He lost his brother, and he says you never forget, but you learn to adjust. I trust him because he’s been there.”

“Will Josh come by to see me today?”

“Tonight.”

Chelsea smiled. “Good. Too bad there’s only one of him.” Her hand slipped into Katie’s. “Lucky you.”

Katie glanced away. She still was upset and surprised at the way Garrison had made her feel. In class Friday morning, he’d said, “If you change your mind about the football game tonight, I’ll be sitting near the fifty-yard line.”

She’d shaken her head no. She knew she’d be with Josh. “I’m busy.”

“Until next time, then,” he’d answered.

She knew there wouldn’t be a next time. She now avoided looking at him.

Katie glanced down at Chelsea and saw that her energy was sapped. She tugged the covers up under Chelsea’s chin and stood. “I’ll let you get some rest.”

“When will you come back?” Chelsea sounded as if she was afraid to be alone.

“When you wake up, ring this bell.” She handed Chelsea the bell she’d used to summon her mother when she’d been so sick. “And I’ll come running.”

“You’re my best friend, Katie.”

“Same here.” But when Katie left the room, she leaned against the door frame, suddenly apprehensive. How was she going to juggle Chelsea, Josh, and school—especially when Garrison Reilly made her feel quivery whenever she gazed into his eyes?

T
hree

E
NVIOUS
. C
HELSEA ADMITTED
to herself that envy was the overriding emotion she felt whenever she was with Katie. To Chelsea’s way of thinking, Katie had it all. Katie had already been through the heart transplant procedure, and she’d survived it with flying colors. Chelsea knew the statistics by heart: Over eighty percent of all heart recipients were still alive a year following the procedure. And almost seventy percent were living five years after a transplant.

“The odds are in your favor,” Katie told her enthusiastically. But knowing such facts didn’t make Chelsea’s fear go away. If only she could be confident the way Katie was!

Chelsea kept up a brave front, especially in front of her mother. But deep inside, she struggled
against the rising tide of doubts. Certainly, the summer at Jenny House had helped her face some of the fears she’d carried with her all her life. She’d done things she’d never even dreamed of doing before. Daring things, like riding horses and playing games and climbing up to the special mountain plateau Amanda had discovered.

But those fears were different from the one that gnawed at her now. Now that she was actually on the beeper, now that she was actually waiting for her own heart to be exchanged for a healthy one, she was scared to death. And Chelsea wouldn’t share the fears with anyone. Not her parents. Not Katie. Not even the doctors in charge of the therapy group she was attending at the university’s transplant center.

BOOK: She Died Too Young
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