Fangirl

Simon took a bad step forward, and she lost her balance. He caught her with a strong arm around her waist.

Don’t they just shine together? Weren’t they every shade of white and gold?

“He’ll never give her up, you know.”

Baz wanted to whip around at the voice, but he caught himself. Didn’t even turn his head. “Hello, Penelope.”

“You’re wasting your time,” she said, and damned if she didn’t sound tired. “He thinks she’s his destiny—he can’t help himself.”

“I know,” Baz said, turning into the shadows. “Neither can I.”

—from “Tyra

NINETEEN

Levi didn’t ask any questions, and Cath didn’t feel like explaining.

She told him that her dad was in the hospital, but she didn’t tell him why. She thanked him a lot. She pushed a twenty-dollar bill into his ashtray and told him she’d give him more as soon as she got cash.

She tried not to look at him—because every time she did, she imagined him kissing someone, either her or that other girl, and both memories were equally painful.

She waited for him to turn on the Levi, to needle her with questions and charming observations, but he left her alone. After about fifteen minutes, he asked whether she’d mind if he listened to a lecture—he had a big final the next day.

“Go ahead,” Cath said.

Levi set a digital recorder on the dashboard. They listened to a deep-voiced professor talk about sustainable ranching practices for the next forty minutes.

When they got into town, Cath gave Levi directions; he’d only been to Omaha a few times. When they turned into the hospital parking lot, Cath was sure he’d read the sign—ST. RICHARD’S CENTER FOR MENTAL AND BEHAVIORAL HEALTH.

“You can just drop me,” she said. “I really appreciate this.”

Levi turned off the Range Management lecture. “I’d feel a lot better if I saw you in.”

Cath didn’t argue. She walked in ahead of him and went straight to the registration desk. She was half-conscious of Levi folding himself into a lobby chair behind her.

The man at the desk wasn’t any good. “Avery,” he said. “Avery … Arthur.” He clicked his tongue. “Doesn’t look like he’s authorized for visitors.”

Could Cath talk to a doctor? Or a nurse? The guy wasn’t sure about that. Was her dad awake? He couldn’t tell her, federal privacy regulations and all.

“Well, I’m just going to sit over there,” Cath said. “So maybe you could tell somebody that I’m waiting, and that I’d like to see my dad.”

The guy—he was a big guy, more like a muscled-up orderly than a receptionist or a nurse—told her she was welcome to sit all she wanted. She wondered if this guy had been here when they’d brought her dad in. Did they have to restrain him? Was he screaming? Was he spitting? She wanted everyone here, starting with this guy, to know that her dad was a person, not just a crazy person. That he had people who cared about him and who would notice if he was roughed up or given the wrong medicine. Cath huffed down into a chair where the no-good orderly could see her.

Ten minutes of silence passed before Levi said, “No luck?”

“Same old luck.” She glanced over at him, but not at his face. “Look, I’m probably here for the long haul. You should head back.”

Levi leaned forward on his knees, scrubbing at the back of his hair, like he was thinking about it. “I’m not going to leave you alone in a hospital waiting room,” he said finally.

“But all I can do now is wait,” she said. “So this is the perfect place for me.”

He shrugged and sat back, still rubbing his neck. “I may as well see you through. You might need a ride later.”

“Okay,” Cath said, then forced herself to keep going. “Thank you … This isn’t going to be a regular thing, you know. I promise not to call you the next time one of my relatives gets drunk or goes crazy.”

Levi took off his green jacket and laid it on the seat next to him. He was wearing a black sweater and black jeans, and he was holding his digital recorder. He pushed it into his pocket. “I wonder if there’s coffee around here,” he said.

St. Richard’s wasn’t a regular hospital. Nothing but the waiting room was open to the public, and the waiting room was more like a hallway with chairs. There wasn’t even a TV hanging in the corner tuned to Fox News.

Levi stood up and moseyed over to the orderly’s window. He leaned forward on the counter and started to make conversation.

Cath felt a surge of irritation and got out her phone to text Wren. “at st richard’s, waiting to see dad.” She thought about calling their grandma, but decided to wait until she had more information.

When she looked up from the phone, Levi was being buzzed through the main doors. He glanced back at her just before they closed behind him, and smiled. It had been so long since Levi smiled at her—Cath’s heart leapt up into her sinuses. It made her eyes water.…

He was gone a long time.

Maybe he was getting a tour, she thought. He’d probably come back with a pitcher of beer, lipstick all over his face, and Fiesta Bowl tickets.

Cath didn’t have anything to distract herself with except her phone—but the battery was low, so she shoved it into her bag and tried not to think about it.

Eventually she heard a buzz, and Levi walked back through the doors, holding two disposable coffee cups and balancing two boxed sandwiches on his forearms.

“Turkey or ham?” he asked.

“Why are you always feeding me?”

“Well, I work in food service and my major is basically grazing.…”

“Turkey,” she said, feeling grateful, but still not feeling like she could look Levi in the eye. (She knew what that was like. His eyes were warm and baby blue. They made you feel like he liked you better than other people.) She took a coffee cup. “How did you get back there?”

“I just asked about coffee,” he said.

Cath unwrapped the sandwich and started tearing off bite-sized pieces. She pinched them flat before pushing them into her mouth. Her mom used to tell her not to mutilate her food. Her dad never said anything; his table ma

“You can, you know,” Levi said, unwrapping his sandwich.

“Can what?”

“Call me the next time somebody goes crazy or gets arrested … I was glad you called me tonight. I thought you were mad at me.”

Cath smashed another chunk of sandwich. Mustard oozed out the sides. “Are you the guy who everybody calls when they need help?”

“Am I Superman?” She could hear him smiling.

“You know what I mean. Are you the guy all your friends call when they need help? Because they know you’ll say yes?”

“I don’t know…,” he said. “I’m the guy everybody calls when they need help moving. I think it’s the truck.”

“When I called you tonight,” she said to her shoes, “I knew that you’d give me a ride. If you could.”

“Good,” he said. “You were right.”

“I think I might be exploiting you.”

He laughed. “You can’t exploit me against my will.…”

Cath took a sip of the coffee. It tasted nothing like a gingerbread latte.

“Are you worried about your dad?” Levi asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “And no. I mean”—she glanced over at him quickly—“this isn’t the first time. This just happens.… Usually it doesn’t get this bad. Usually we’re there for him.”

Levi held his sandwich by one corner and took a bite from the other. “Are you too worried about your dad to talk about why you’re mad at me?” His mouth was full.

“It’s not important,” she muttered.

“It is to me.” He swallowed. “You leave the room every time I walk in.” Cath didn’t say anything, so he kept talking.… “Is it because of what happened?”

She didn’t know how to answer that question. She didn’t want to. She looked up at the wall across from her, up where there’d be a TV if this place wasn’t such a prison.