A Time to Die Page 3

In her room, she flounced on the bed. The cheerful yellow and white walls and carpet seemed to mock her bad mood, and her bed, heaped with all sizes and shapes of pillows, suddenly felt like a cage. A soft rap on her door caused her to bury her face in her pile of pillows and shriek with pent-up frustration. She knew it was her mother coming to check up on her. “Yes?” Kara called.

  Her mother opened the door and peeked inside the room. “Are you all right?”

  “Mom, I’m fine. Sorry I snapped at you at the dinner table.”

  Her mother sat on the bed. “No … I’m the one who needs to apologize. I shouldn’t have pressed you about supper. I worry about you, that’s all.” She smoothed Kara’s hair, and Kara resisted the urge to pull away. “Your father and I don’t mean to hound you—I’ve gotten better about not doing it, don’t you think?”

  Kara sat up and looked at her mother’s anxious face. In many ways, she had gotten better, thanks to Vicki Diller, the psychologist Dr. McGee had insisted the family start seeing three years before. Before that, her mother had almost driven them all crazy trying to be responsible for Kara’s illness. In fact, her overprotectiveness had almost caused her parents to divorce. At the therapist’s suggestion, her mother was now working full-time. “Yes, you’ve gotten much better.”

  “Why don’t you tell me about your first day of school?”

  “Not much to tell. I want to stay well and have a good year.”

  “Is art still your favorite class?”

  “Of course. I really want to go to art school after I graduate.”

  “Commercial artists make good money. Our agency is always looking for fresh talent.”

  “With a good job, I could get my own car and apartment.” Kara began to warm up as she discussed her future.

  She saw her mother’s forehead pucker with concern, but heard her say, “Everyone needs their own space. Fortunately, you’ve got a few years before you need to think about that.” Her mother was making an effort not to hover, and Kara felt grateful. “Any new faces at school this year?”

  Kara casually mentioned Eric. “Any brother of Christy’s must be a fine young man. I’d like to meet him.”

  Kara couldn’t think of anything she’d rather not have happen. Both her parents would probably sit Eric down and grill him like a cheese sandwich. Her bedside phone rang, and she snatched it. “Where’s the beautiful princess who’s going to rescue me?” Vince asked, making Kara laugh.

  “She’s sitting on a mound of pillows, waiting for her own fairy godmother to make good on a few wishes. You’ve got a long wait.”

  “Just my luck.” Vince paused. “How was day number one back at the salt mines of Central High?”

  Kara mouthed Vince’s name to her mother, who nodded, blew her a kiss, and left the room. “It’s going to be a great year, Vince. How are you feeling? When will you be back?”

  “Dr. McGee says the new antibiotic is doing the trick. I could be out in another week.”

  “That’s super. Are you going stir-crazy yet?”

  “Not as long as I’ve got the TV and my direct line to you.”

  She thought he sounded better, not as wheezy and certainly more upbeat. “I’ll get by to see you this weekend.”

  “I’m looking forward to it. Tell me something exciting,” Vince urged. “Nothing exciting is going on around here.”

  “Let’s see … I met Christy’s brother, Eric. He drove me home from school today.”

  “Tell me more.”

  “He comes from Texas and drives a fifty-seven Chevy that he seems to adore. Just my luck. A cute guy who’s got a crush on a car.” Vince grew quiet as she joked about Eric. “Of course, Eric doesn’t know about my CF yet. I mean once he finds out, today may turn out to have been the only time I’ll ride in his car.” She laughed nervously.

  “If it is, he’s nuts.”

  “You’re just saying that.”

  “No … but I’m hoping that he is nuts.”

  “You’re silly.” He coughed, and she clutched the receiver until he stopped. “You’d better get some rest.”

  “I’m tired of resting. I want to get out of this place.”

  “It won’t be much longer.”

  “Sure.” He sighed. “Well, my lovely, you take care. And remember, when the good fairy comes along, don’t forget to include me in your wishes.”

  “Good-night, Vince,” she said softly. “Thanks for calling.”

  “Good-night, princess. Don’t forget me.”

  “Never.” She hung up and stared at the receiver. Poor Vince. Still stuck in the hospital. This week, she was free of the place. Kara felt a tightness in her chest, making her realize that it was almost time for bed and that she needed her nightly thumps. Although she detested them, she went to the door to call her mother. She didn’t want anything to get in the way of the plans she had for the new school term, which now included hope for a relationship with Eric Lawrence.

  Six

  ERIC SAW KARA coming down the crowded hallway between classes and ducked into the bathroom, hoping she hadn’t seen him. A week had passed since Christy had told him about her condition, and for the life of him, he couldn’t bring himself to want to be around Kara. The knowledge that she was sick enough to die totally repelled him. He’d tried to slough it off the afternoon Christy had first explained things to him. “Are you making that up?” he’d asked, knowing she wasn’t, but hoping she was.

  “Of course I’m not. Cystic fibrosis is incurable. Research has made life better than it used to be for its victims. Once, CFers didn’t live beyond childhood. Now, some live into their mid-twenties, and those with less severe cases have lived to see their thirties.”

  “Don’t they take medicine?” Eric wanted to know. “And what about all that therapy you do with Kara?”

  “Yes, they take medicine, but the illness is still fatal. The therapy is important—it helps keep the mucus thinned and moving, but eventually, all victims fall prey to chronic lung diseases because germs and bacteria become trapped in the mucus. Lungs can collapse, they can begin to bleed, and eventually the heart may become enlarged and begin to fail. And many CFers have digestive disorders, as well.”

  Eric found Christy’s knowledge impressive and thought that she really should have been a doctor. “Is that why Kara looks thin?” he asked.

  Christy nodded. “Although she eats well, her food isn’t absorbed properly, and that causes malnutrition.”

  Eric couldn’t forget the dismay he’d felt as Christy explained the ramifications of living with CF. Every word of explanation felt like a blow, and by the time she’d listed all the complications and problems a CF victim encounters, all he wanted to do was forget about Kara Fischer altogether.

  Except that he couldn’t. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep the image of her delicate, fragile face out of his mind. He couldn’t forget the breathy quality of her voice, the eagerness of her smile, the play of sunlight in her golden hair. She didn’t deserve to have something like cystic fibrosis. Why was life so unfair?

  From the first time he’d set eyes on Kara, he’d felt drawn to her. She’d had a quality about her that said “special,” just as surely as if a sign had been hung around her neck. While he would have never admitted it to his sister, the girls he had dated in Houston weren’t go great, and he’d figured that in Kara, he’d found all the right qualities. But now, knowing about her CF—well, what kind of future was there in dating her?

  He purposely decided to avoid her. If he ran into her in the halls, he waved, but kept moving. If he saw her in the cafeteria, he made it a point to sit with some of the guys. Now, seeing her heading straight toward him in the hallway had forced him into the bathroom. “Chicken,” he muttered under his breath, feeling ashamed of not being able to deal with her.

  Eric splashed cold water on his face. He came up sputtering and heard a guy say, “Hey, man.”

  Eric recognized him from his English class. “What?”

  “Di
d you do the English assignment? I didn’t. Could you share?”

  Eric actually had done the assignment. He didn’t like people who cheated. He knew he should tell the guy to buzz off, but without thinking, he answered, “Naw. I didn’t do it, either.”

  The boy swore. “It’s a stupid class, anyway. Maybe I won’t go.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  “Say, why don’t you come with me? I’ll show you a hot spot much more interesting than this dump.”

  Eric considered the offer. He knew he shouldn’t cut class. What if Christy found out? But he knew he didn’t want to be around school, either. What if he ran into Kara again? Seeing her in the halls made him think about things he didn’t want to think about. “I guess I could,” he said.

  “Great. Just as soon as the bell rings, I’ll check the halls, and if they’re clear, we’re out of here.”

  Minutes later, the two of them made a dash to the parking lot.

  Kara had seen Eric in the crush of people changing classes, and her heart had done a flip-flop. She started to call his name, but saw him go into the bathroom, and her greeting died on her lips. A hot flush spread up her neck and face. There was no longer any doubt in her mind—Eric Lawrence was avoiding her on purpose. She replayed the afternoon they’d spent together for the thousandth time. Again, she felt the wind in her hair as she rode in his car, smelled the scent of the car’s cracked leather seats, heard the songs that had played on the radio. What had she done wrong? Had she said something to turn him off?

  “You’d better start moving, or you’ll get run over,” Elyse kidded, coming up alongside her.

  Kara started. “Sorry. I was daydreaming. Temporary insanity.” Kara started walking, and Elyse rushed to keep up.

  “You’ve been preoccupied all week. What gives?”

  Kara hadn’t been able to confide in Elyse, her mother, or Christy about her feelings concerning Eric. His rejection of her stung. “I’m just busy getting settled into the routine. Mr. Carney wants me to enter something into the all-state art competition. I’ve been considering what to draw,” she said breezily.

  The crowd in the halls had thinned, and Kara neared the art room. “Have you seen Eric today?” Elyse asked. “I thought you two might become an item after your fantastic first encounter.”

  Kara tried to keep her face expressionless. “Nothing’s happening with us. I told you, I was only doing Christy a favor.”

  “I saw Sheila Morrison hanging all over him yesterday.” Elyse rolled her eyes to make her point. “That girl is so tacky.”

  Kara had heard stories about Sheila, but Elyse’s nasty attitude made her angry. She knew how it felt to have people whisper behind her back. Whenever kids learned about her illness, they talked about it with other students, but never to her outright. “Elyse, it’s a free world. If Eric wants to hang with Sheila, I could care less.”

  “You don’t have to bite my head off. I was only telling you what I saw.”

  Kara wished she could level with her friend and tell her how she really felt, but remembering how Elyse had reacted to the spring dance business with Kevin, she didn’t want to risk any of Elyse’s speculations. “I’m going to be late for class.”

  “Will you call me later?” Elyse asked.

  She turned toward Elyse, who stood in the hall, looking dejected. “Of course, but please stop talking about Eric around me, all right?”

  Without waiting for Elyse to answer, Kara hurried into the art room and then slunk to the back of the room, where she succumbed to a fit of coughing.

  By the time Kara arrived home from school, her chest felt tight and her head feverish. As she rummaged in the medicine chest for medicine, she fought down a sense of panic. She couldn’t get sick again. She just couldn’t. She’d barely gotten out of the hospital. Kara washed two tablets down with water as she heard the doorbell. She quickly dabbed cover cream on the dark circles under her eyes, ran a brush through her hair, hurried to the front door, and let Christy in.

  “I thought you’d stood me up,” Christy said with a smile.

  “That’s not my style,” Kara countered, all the while thinking, Like your brother’s.

  They went into Kara’s sunny bedroom and started the procedure, but all Kara could think of was Eric and how he was snubbing her. Once the therapy was over and she’d coughed until she was hoarse, they went into the kitchen. Kara fixed glasses of iced tea for them.

  The medicine had done its work, and she was feeling less feverish. “How’s your brother liking Central?” she asked as casually as possible.

  “He says it’s all right. But surely he’s told you how he likes it by now.”

  “ ’Fraid not. He hardly speaks to me at school.”

  Christy set her glass of tea on the counter, a look of guilt crossing her pretty face. “I’m sorry.”

  Kara saw the look. “You told him about my CF, didn’t you?”

  “He asked me.”

  “He didn’t know to ask. I never said a word to him.”

  “Oh, Kara, I didn’t mean any harm, but I was concerned for you.”

  “For me? Why? I liked him. And he seemed to like me. At least, before he knew. I thought we were friends, Christy.”

  Christy looked stricken. “We are friends. That’s why the truth is so important. I don’t want anyone to hurt you, even my brother—especially my brother.”

  “I don’t have enough problems with my parents?” Kara slid off the kitchen stool and began pacing.

  “I didn’t mean to meddle.”

  “Don’t you think I wonder what it would be like to have a regular guy notice me? Don’t you think I want to be accepted as—as a girl with normal feelings? Do you have any idea what it’s like to feel as if every breath I take in mixed company is some kind of a turnoff?”

  Christy reached out to touch Kara’s arm. “Wait a minute. Please. Of course, I understand that you want to be accepted. Why, only a complete idiot wouldn’t accept you.”

  Kara recalled how the boys at school treated her—friendly, but strictly hands-off. “Then the world is full of idiots.”

  “Frankly, most teenage guys just aren’t equipped emotionally to handle a meaningful relationship.”

  “You mean Eric?”

  Kara saw color creep up Christy’s cheeks. “Eric’s my brother, and I love him, but he’s not the boy for you, Kara. He’s got plenty of problems of his own.”

  “He doesn’t have CF.”

  “Touché.” Christy sighed. “I’ll speak to him.”

  “Don’t you dare!” Christy’s remark galvanized Kara into action. “If you say even one word about this talk we’ve had, I’ll never forgive you.”

  “All right. Calm down. I’ll stay out of it. Promise.” She crossed her heart.

  Once Christy had gone, Kara sat in bed with her drawing pad, unable to put Eric out of her mind. Christy had said he had problems. Kara should have asked for details. What problems could a sixteen-year-old as good-looking as Eric Lawrence possibly have? She gave a mirthless laugh. “He’ll never get close enough for me to know.”

  She sketched randomly until her room grew deep with shadows. She didn’t like any of her artwork, and in exasperation, she tossed the pad aside. The doorbell rang, startling her. She shimmied off the bed, and when she opened the door, she was greeted by Vince Chapman. “Hi, beautiful,” he said, flipping the ends of her hair with his fingers.

  Seven

  “VINCE!” KARA SQUEALED, throwing her arms around his neck. “When did they cut you loose?”

  “This afternoon,” he said with a laugh. “I went home, but then headed right over here.”

  “You didn’t tell me.”

  “I wanted to surprise you.”

  She unwrapped her arms from his neck and dragged him inside. “You should have said something.”

  “And missed out on this greeting? No way.” He followed her into her living room. “Did your folks forget to pay their electric bill?”

  Ka
ra realized that she’d not turned on any lights and flipped on switches. “Dad’s flying an overnighter, and Mom had some big agency planning meeting. I hadn’t realized it was so late.”

  “Have you eaten?”

  “I forgot to.” Kara chewed on her lip. “Mom’ll kill me. She made up this tray of food I was supposed to pop into the microwave for my dinner.”

  “Still no appetite?”

  “Not a bit,” Kara admitted, although she now wondered how much of its loss was due to Eric’s lack of interest.

  “I’m having trouble getting mine back, too,” Vince admitted. “Maybe between us we can polish off that stuff your mother fixed.”

  “It’s a deal.” Kara led Vince into the kitchen and parked him at the counter while she found the tray in the fridge. As it warmed in the microwave, she set plates and silver on the counter. Vince sat on a stool, observing. “So, when will you be back at school?” she asked.

  “Monday. I’ve been keeping up with the assignments, but socially, I’ll be my usual outcast self. How’s it going between you and Christy’s brother?”

  Vince’s question sounded casual, but Kara knew she sounded curt when she answered. “First Elyse, now you. For heaven’s sake, I barely know the guy. What’s all this interest in my nonrelationship with Eric?”

  “I’m interested in everything you’re interested in,” Vince said. His dark eyes regarded her expectantly. “Old habit, I guess. I’ve never had that many friends.”

  Kara felt bad about snapping at him. “Okay, so we’ve never been part of the in crowd. But that doesn’t mean we can’t keep trying to expand our circle.”

  “This is my senior year. If I haven’t expanded my circle by now, I doubt I will.”

  “Will you graduate in June?”

  “Too soon to tell. I hope so, but I’m behind in everything.”

  “If you do, then what?”

  “Community college. And a job. If I can hold one. I wish I could plan for something more exciting.”

  She understood—plans for the future hinged on staying well.

  His gaze lingered on her face. “I’ve got to get through Christmas first.”