Page 79 of Dungeons and Drama

To my surprise, her reply comes within seconds.

No, we aren’t canceling. You’ve done plenty, Riley. We’ll take care of the rest.

I stare at my phone, my throat growing thick. I want to throw my arms around Hoshiko and pull her tight. There are so many big and little things for them to think about. Who is going to narrate? What if Mitchell forgets his lyrics and looks to me for the words? How will it work if only some people are in costume? I breathe through my nose and close my eyes. It’s out of my hands now.

“Riley?” Mom whispers. She looks down at my phone and back up at my face. “What’s going on? What are your friends saying?”

I shake my head and put my phone away. “Nothing. They’re just worried.”

“Okay.” She purses her lips. “You know, it’s all right if you need to leave for your performance this afternoon. Your dad will understand.”

“No.”My voice is loud and echoes in the empty linoleum room. “No, I’m not leaving.”

I glare at her, and she nods slowly and pats my leg. The school meeting will happen or it won’t. The showcase will go well or it’ll be a disaster. Either way, it’s just a show. Therewill be others. Right now, the most important thing is seeingDad.

I stare at the clock for the next hour. It’s easier to turn off my thoughts if I watch the second hand steadily tick by. Another group comes into the waiting room, an older couple, and it jars me out of my trance. I open my phone and notice another text—a single one from Nathan. It came in just after Hoshiko’s, but I’d missed it.

Just walked into American History and heard about Joel. I’m two seconds from skipping class and coming to find you at the hospital. Should I?

My stomach swoops. I imagine Nathan walking through those doors any second now. I imagine him wrapping his arms around me and squeezing me so hard the little shattered pieces in my chest press back together. I want it so much it’s physical.

I wipe a few tears from my eyes. Why did I think I could shut him out after the dance and pretend like my life hadn’t been permanently altered by him? It’s only been a few days and I already miss him so much. I was a fool to let him leave homecoming like I did—I was so scared he wouldn’t see me the way I see him that I couldn’t get the words out. But I don’t want to lose him. I want him here next to me, holding my hand and telling me that Dad is going to be okay. I want him texting me, and driving me down country roads, and gazing at me like he can’t wait to kiss me again. I’m not sure if we’re too far gone for that to ever happen, but sitting in a cold hospital waiting room has a way of taking all the blurry edges of life and tightening the focus until the important things pop into the foreground.

And what I see is Nathan.

I have to tell him how I feel. He deserves to know, even if it comes to nothing. Even if he tells me he’ll never fall for me the way I’ve fallen for him.

My fingers twitch to text back and ask him to come. I would love to sag against him right now. But I text Nathan back something vague and polite instead. I desperately need to talk to him, but it will have to wait until I know about Dad.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Mom gets me a cup of hot tea and we sit in the waiting room for two more hours. Eventually someone comes in to tell us that they’re keeping Dad overnight for observation and moving him from the ER to a room on the fifth floor. Mom has to answer questions about medical history and the hours are interminable before we’re finally able to see him. I try to steel myself on the elevator ride up, but I can’t breathe when I walk into his room. He’s sitting up in bed wearing a hospital gown with multiple machines attached to him. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Dad without one of his gaming shirts on. But before I can completely lose it, he sees us and beckons us into the room.

“Riley! Shannon!”

He holds out his arms for a hug. I study him, looking for an edge of anger or resentment from our last conversation, but he only seems delighted to see us. I gingerly lean in.

“How are you feeling?” My voice cracks and his arms tighten around me.

“I’ve been better, but just seeing you makes me happier. If only I didn’t have people coming in to prod me and ask me more questions every two minutes.”

“Dad, you’re in thehospital.” I pull back to give him a reproving look. “Of course you’re going to have people prodding you. Did they say what happened? Did you have a heart attack?”

“No, it wasn’t a heart attack. Not exactly—just a heart attackscare.They said I’ll need to start taking cholesterol medication and make more life changes, but I’ll be fine.”

Mom and I exchange worried glances.

“Is your doctor going to come around soon?” Mom asks.

“She came and left, but I’m sure the nurses will be back. Now, how do I change this channel? It’s so boring here.”

Mom huffs a sigh and lifts a huge remote that’s attached to the bed. It has buttons for the TV and others to raise the bed to a seating position.

“Thank you.” Dad’s eyes linger for a moment on Mom’s face and I get the impression that he’s saying thank you for more than showing him the remote. I shift, wondering if I should excuse myself so they can talk, but Mom gets there before me.

“I’m going to run down to the cafeteria and pick up some snacks,” she says. “I’m starving.”

Dad and I sit silently and watch aSeinfeldepisode for a few minutes. It’s so surreal to be here watching TV, like my whole world didn’t almost implode. I gather up my courage to speak.

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