Becoming Who We Are Ch. 08

"Not really," Joe said, trying to take it all in. "As long as it looks like she'll all right..."

"Oh, don't worry," and the doctor smiled unexpectedly. "She's a healthy, strong girl. She'll be fine."

**

The worst thing about being stuck in a hospital, Melina thought that afternoon, was the lack of privacy. If the nurses left her alone for a few minutes, then her roommate started maundering on about her problems. Twice in the last couple of hours, Melina had closed her eyes, shamming sleep, to get the woman to stop boring her to death. Normally a sympathetic girl, Melina had other things on her mind that afternoon.

The accident, she admitted to herself, had bruised her confidence. Sure, she had fallen before, but never like that. Worse, she could not remember the wreck itself. It seemed as if the sun truly had blinded her at the critical moment.

A familiar figure swung into her room and slung a backpack into the chair beside her bed. She could not help smiling.

"Hiya, gorgeous," Mark said. "I heard your bike ride this morning was more exciting than usual, so I thought I'd stop by and see how you were doing."

"Thanks," she said, deeply touched at his visit. "I'm pretty sore and it feels like someone hammered an iron spike into my head, but other than that, I'm okay."

As he took her hand in his, his warmth seemed to envelop her hand, then spread up her arm. She smiled, glad of the contact. Even her spirit felt revived at his touch.

"Funny, I don't see an iron spike. I guess your hair's covering it."

"Your knowledge of feminine ways always astounds me."

They grinned at each other.

"So do you want to talk about it, or would you rather talk about something else?"

"We can talk about it. I just wish I remembered anything that actually happened."

"You can't?"

She shook her head and winced.

"Remind me not to do that again. No, I can't recall a thing. I remember riding by the church and turning to face the sun and that's it. I keep feeling like there's something I ought to remember, though. Something important."

"Maybe it'll come to you later," he said gently, not wanting her to become agitated. She looked awfully pale.

"Maybe." She frowned, then rolled her eyes. "So what happened at school?"

He continued to hold her hand as he filled her in on events.

"Lakeesha said to be sure to tell you she hopes you're all right, and Cowden gave me some homework for you, if you're up to doing it," he concluded.

She groaned.

"That woman never stops."

"Should I tell her you're in terrible shape and can't do it?"

"No," she said, rolling her eyes. "Give it to me. Maybe I'll feel like doing it later."

"That's the spirit that built this country."

She rolled her eyes again. They both chuckled.

"So how long are you in for?"

"You make it sound like prison, which, actually, it is sort of like. Anyway, they may release me tomorrow if I'm a good girl and don't fall out of bed onto my head. After that, I'm supposed to stay home for a few more days."

"You want me to get your homework assignments for you?"

"Not really," she grinned, "but maybe I'll get bored with daytime television and actually want it, so I guess you should. I mean, if it's not too much trouble."

"It isn't," he assured her. "I'm happy to do it."

He squeezed her hand and she returned the pressure.

"You're a sweetheart," she said softly, so her roommate couldn't hear.

He bent over her.

"I'm your sweetheart," he whispered into her ear. "And don't you forget it."

He kissed her cheek, then straightened abruptly as someone walked into the room.

"Time for your meds, ladies," a nurse announced.

"I'll clear out of here," Mark said. "Take care. I want you in good shape for marching band on Saturday, young lady."

The idea of marching seemed so absurd that Melina laughed. The nurse turned to Mark.

"Looks like you're just the medicine she needed," she said. "Her color's a lot better."

"I'll send you my bill," Mark said with a wink. "See you later."

After he left, the nurse looked thoughtfully at her young patient.

"He's such a keeper," she finally said.

**

"Where have you been?" Mrs. Tang demanded as Mark walked into the kitchen.

"At the hospital. Melina had a bike accident this morning."

The blood drained from his mother's face as she sank into a chair. Even from across the room, Mark could see her trembling. He covered the space between them in three large steps and sat beside her.

"Mom! Are you all right?"

"John," she whispered. "It's John all over again."

"Mom, Melina's okay. She'll be fine," Mark said loudly, hoping to break through his mother's thoughts. "She's not like John."

But his mother did not hear him. She hunched into her jacket and shivered as if an icy draft had just gone up her back.

"That little coffin," she murmured, a tear running down one cheek. "My baby. My wonderful baby."

Dismayed, Mark surveyed his mother's face. He could understand why the news would make her think of John -- that had been his first thought, too -- but her reaction struck him as awfully odd.

"Mom," he repeated, giving her shoulder a little shake. "It's okay. Melina's going to be fine."

Her head slowly turned toward him. She regarded him for a long moment.

"You don't understand at all," she snapped.

She pushed herself away from the table and ran through the hall door. Mark stared after her. Maybe Melina was right. Maybe his mother did need professional help.

**

Jeff glared at his shaking left arm, trying in vain to squeeze out one more rep with the barbell. He threw the metal weight to the floor in disgust.

"Hey! Don't abuse the equipment," the weight room attendant said. "Set it on the floor gently."

"Sorry," Jeff muttered, not meaning it. If he could have thrown the weight at the attendant, he would have. Nobody spoke to him that way and got away with it.

Ever since the cast had come off, he had thrown himself into the task of rehabilitating his arm. It had withered in the five weeks it had spent inside the plaster and Jeff hated the sight of it. At least it was winter and he could wear long sleeves over it. By spring, he planned to be as buff as ever, maybe even more so. Coach had pointed out that he could still possibly play ball for Penn State, and even get a scholarship after his first year if he did well. He had decent enough grades to get into the school, and he could always get financial aid for the first year.

Grimly, he compared his forearms. The left one still looked as if it belonged on a lesser guy, like maybe Luke-the-gook. The thought made him so mad he picked up the barbell and managed another set. No way did he want to look like that!

At the end of the workout, his anger spent, he flung his towel around his burly neck and sauntered to the shower. He had missed the weight room during the past month, missed the glances the other guys gave his muscles, and most of all, missed the satisfaction of out-performing everyone there. It felt good to use his body, to make it stronger and better than anyone else's.

He passed Danny Davidson coming out of the locker room. Neither boy said a word. Jeff smirked with satisfaction. It looked as if he would never have to worry about Danny bugging him again.

On a whim, Jeff weighed himself in the locker room. One ninety-six, just two pounds lighter than his old man's top number and four pounds down from his own best weight. Scowling, he decided he could do better than that. Well, now that he could work out again, he'd put the missing pounds back on in no time.

As he stood under the hot shower -- how nice not to have to tape up his cast first -- he thought about the girl. A few days after the accident, she had reappeared in school, looking frail and pale. He smiled. He'd spent a cautious couple of days wondering if anyone had seen him before allowing himself to relax. His success fueled his interest in trying something like it again. In his daily reconnaissance rounds, Jeff had found that the Chinese kid walked to and from school with her each day. That complicated things, but Jeff figured he could find a way to cope. These days, he felt more up to life's challenges.

**

"Why can't you come over?" Shelly asked. "Tell your mom we'll study together. That should make her happy."

Luke grimaced at the phone.

"She won't agree to that in a million years."

"How do you know unless you try?" Shelly wheedled. "Just ask. The worst that can happen is she'll say no. Please?"

"Oh, all right," Luke said. "I'll call you back."

"Your enthusiasm is overwhelming."

"Sorry. It's just..."

"Your mother's a bitch wolf and you hate dealing with her. I know. Please ask her anyway. For me?"

"Okay. Give me a few minutes."

They hung up and Luke took several deep breaths, preparing himself to do battle. Since they had met, he had seen Shelly just a couple of times, but they had spoken on the phone nearly every other day. He liked her more and more. With one final exhale, he padded down the hall to his mother's office.

"Go to a girl's house to study?" His mother stared at him, her expression a mix of shock and disdain. "You must be out of your mind if you think I'm going to let you do that. You're not going anywhere but your room."

"But you let Mark study with Melina."

"That's different. Mark has shown us that he can keep his grades up. You have not, and until I see all A's on your report card, that's how it's going to be."

"Mark doesn't have straight A's," he said, a tinge of resentment in his voice.

"This discussion is closed," his mother said. "Frankly, I can't imagine what any girl would see in you, but I suppose it takes all types. In any case, you're not ever to go to that girl's house, and that's final. Now get out of here. I have work to do before I go to the restaurant."

She looked down at her papers as Luke backed out of the room.

"She said no," Luke said when Shelly picked up the phone.

"Bitch," Shelly said.

"Sorry."

"It's not your fault. I really would like to see you today." She paused. "Is she going to work this afternoon?"

"Yeah."

"That's perfect! Call me when she leaves, and I'll come over to your house."

"But..."

"But what? Don't you want to see me?"

"Of course I do. I just don't know that this is the right thing to do."

"Luke," she said impatiently, "if there's anything I know, it's that certain rules are just begging to be broken and this is one of them. She didn't say I couldn't come over, did she?"

"No, but..."

"Then it's settled. Call me when the coast is clear." She giggled, feeling like a spy in a movie. "Then we'll proceed with Operation Defiance."

"I'll think about it."

"If you have to think about it, then don't bother calling. Either you want to see me or you don't, but don't string me along."

Luke nodded at the phone.

"All right. I'll call you."

"Cool! See ya!"

"Yeah. 'Bye."

Two hours later, Shelly stood before him, eyes sparkling with fun.

"Well? Let's go study," she said, cocking her head at him.

"All right." He glanced around nervously, as if his mother might have hidden in a closet or behind the couch, and would pounce on them at any moment. Heart pounding, he led Shelly up the stairs to his room.

She plopped onto the bed and unzipped her backpack.

"I did actually bring a book or two, in case your mom comes home unexpectedly, but I've already done most of my homework. How about you?"

"I just have my math left," Luke said.

She perked up.

"I like math. I have the best teacher, Sister Anne. What's your class doing?"

Thirty minutes later, both teens had a considerable sense of accomplishment. Shelly had a knack for explaining math. For the first time in weeks, he felt he understood an assignment.

"You're wonderful," he said admiringly. "I really feel like I can do it now."

"Of course you can," she said, moving closer to him on the bed. "You shouldn't listen to all those people who tell you that you can't. They're wrong."

"Oh, I don't know about that."

"Don't be a goof. You're one of the smartest people I know. And it doesn't hurt that you're cute, too."

He blushed and said nothing.

"Do you think I'm cute?" she pressed.

"Cute? You're beautiful."

She leaned into his body and his arms coiled around her. He held her close for a moment; then she reached up and kissed his lips. How soft and warm she felt! As he grasped her more tightly, he felt a surge of energy in his pelvis. He instantly backed off.

"What are you doing?" Shelly whispered. "I want you right up against me."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Well, I am," Shelly said firmly. "Now wiggle back over here and meet your fate like a man."

Luke shook with nervousness, but complied. He couldn't believe he had a girl in his arms, practically commanding him to make love with her. It seemed unreal.

Shelly's body was real enough, though, and it pressed against his. For several minutes, they simply kissed, Luke hoping fervently that he was doing it right.

"Have you ever had a girlfriend?" Shelly whispered as he paused to regroup.

He blushed again and shook his head.

"Then I'm your first?"

"Yes."

She smiled. "Wonderful. That way, you'll always remember me."

"I'd remember you anyway," he said. "You're the sweetest girl I've ever met."

"You're pretty sweet yourself."

She rolled onto her back, took his hand, placed her own hand over it, and led him to her chest. There, she guided him in making lazy circles over one breast, then the other.

"That feels great," she sighed. "I don't know why guys always want to squeeze the stuffing out of a girl's chest. That hurts. This feels so much better."

Luke filed that fact for future use.

"Do it under my shirt," she demanded.

His fingers shaking, he unbuttoned her blouse and slipped a hand under it. She wore no bra, and her flesh felt warm and tender. He wondered if he would be able to maintain control over his body for much longer. Even when he had daydreamed of necking with Shelly, his imagination had not taken him this far. In the back of Luke's mind, an image of Mark and Melina appeared. His hand curved around Shelly's breast. She moaned softly. He felt a surge of triumph. At last he had bested a brother!

"You sure you've never had a girlfriend?"

"Positive. Why?"

"Everything you do feels so good. You must have had some practice somewhere."

"Just in my dreams. Mmm. May I kiss you there?"

"Please."

He pushed her blouse open with one finger and stared at her small, perfect breasts. Continuing to make gentle circles on one with his hand, he leaned in to lavish loving lips on the other.

She wriggled with pleasure as he kissed her, then snaked one hand down to unbutton her jeans.

"Kiss me there, too?"

Her other hand traced along the line of his zipper. Luke drew in his breath sharply and tried to think of a math problem to distract himself, but to no avail. He shuddered and felt Shelly's hands rubbing his back and face.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to."

"No problem," she said, kissing the end of his nose.

"I couldn't help it. You're so exciting."

"Mmm. Tell me more."

"You're the most incredible girl in the world, and I love you."

She gave him a sharp look.

"What did you say?"

"You heard me."

"Say it anyway."

"You're the most incredible girl in the world, and I," and he paused to kiss her, "love you."

"Oh, Luke," she said. "Don't say that. You can't love me. You don't know me well enough."

"I know enough to know how I feel." He gazed at her face, noting the tears in her eyes. "Don't worry. I don't expect you to love me back."

"You big jerk," she said, a tear spilling onto one cheek. "That's not it at all. I am at least half in love with you. It's just that ... I'm not worth it."

"Guess again," he said. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"You don't understand at all! Don't you get it? All I'm good for is a quick boff in bed. You're not supposed to love me, or need me, or see anything in me but a good time in bed."

She sat up and buttoned her blouse, her face red and furious.

"How can you say that? You're so smart, and sweet, and pretty, and wonderful. How could anyone not love you? And how could you think that about yourself?"

She stuffed her books into her backpack and grabbed her coat. Belatedly, Luke realized she meant to leave. He jumped up, but she beat him to the door and down the stairs. He grabbed her as she fumbled with the deadbolt on the front door.

She elbowed him in the ribs. He winced. For a small girl, Shelly packed a powerful punch.

"Let go of me!" she cried, finally figuring out the lock and opening the door.

He did.

"Don't go," he said sadly. "Please."

"I have to," she said. "Don't call me anymore. I never want to see you again."

**

Patricia Cowden regarded the envelope in her hand with pleased anticipation. Its return address proclaimed it from the Pennsylvania Heritage Foundation in Harrisburg. She flipped the envelope over, ran the letter opener she kept in her mailbox underneath the flap and pulled out the single sheet inside.

"We are pleased to inform you that 'Gold Mountain,' White Rose High School's entry in this year's Pennsylvania Heritage Writing Contest, has reached the semifinals of the general fiction category. While our judges have not yet selected the first, second and third place winners, we wish to advise you that your entry remains in contention for one of the top prizes. We will notify all winners by letter on January 15. While we understand that you may wish to share this news with your student, we would appreciate your cooperation in waiting to do so until the formal announcement is made in January."

Rather unfair of them to expect her to sit on the news for another few weeks, Pat thought. Luke would be thrilled! She beamed at the thought of his face when he heard the news. He had seemed awfully withdrawn these last few weeks, and his schoolwork had lost its former luster. She felt sure the good news would perk him up again. And it would serve that mother of his right for doubting him, too, she thought with a touch of malice.

"Good news, Pat?" Ted Porter asked, nodding toward the letter even he reached for his own mail. His hand hit one of the many sleigh bells dangling from a streamer on the teachers' mailbox wall. "Stupid bells. Why do they have to hang them right in my way every year?"

"Absolutely," she said. "Unfortunately, I can't tell you what it is."

"Top secret stuff?"

"You bet," she said, stuffing the letter back in its envelope and placing it in her jumbled purse.

"Well, if you're going to hide it in there, we'll never find out what it is."

The contents of Patricia Cowden's many large bags were a long-standing joke among her friends, and she smiled tolerantly at this teasing.

"How's Judy?" she asked, sidestepping the issue.

"Complains she's bigger than an inflatable life raft, but otherwise fine."

"When's she due?"

"Another week. She can't wait."

"I'll bet she can't. The last couple of weeks are the worst, I always thought."

"I'm sure she'd give you an amen to that."

"Tell her hello for me."

"Will do. Well, I'll see you later."

"See ya."

She turned and headed for her classroom on the second floor. Unlocking the door, she ambled in and busied herself with administrative tasks until the first students appeared. It hardly seemed possible that today could be the last day before Christmas vacation. She shook her head. The older she grew, the faster time seemed to pass.

She noted Melina and Mark stroll in together and allowed herself a small smile. Mark had practically hovered over her since her biking accident, so she felt sure the two were an item. That thought pleased her. Both seemed like nice, smart kids. Watching Mark's head bend toward Melina's as they settled in for the morning, she wished Luke had some of his brother's confidence.