Page 13 of We Were Something
It breaks my heart.
“And that’s why you shouldneverflirt and drink. I think it’s almost as dangerous as drunk driving,” I joke at the end, enjoying yet another one of Ivy’s exasperated eyerolls for a brief moment before a knock on the door interrupts us.
My head turns and I give the white coat who just walked in a smile then look back to Ivy.
But my eyes widen in shocked realization, and I do a double take, fully taking in the man who has just stepped into Ivy’s room.
I blink a few times, wondering if I’m hallucinating. But he continues to exist, right there, across from me.
In a flash, my mind begins to connect a bunch of the pieces that have been missing since the weekend.
Logan Becker.Thatwas his name.
No wonder it sounded familiar to me when we met for the first time at the gala. Not because of the locker, but because I’ve heard that name spoken more than a handful of times. By Ivy’s mom, Vivian. By Wyatt. By Ben, who is the one who knows Logan and asked him to get Ivy involved in the clinical trial that has her stuck at the hospital for the foreseeable future.
I’ve even heard his name from Lucas and Hannah, who are about to undergo theirownmedical procedures as a part of the experimental treatment.
Dr.Logan Becker.
His eyes linger on mine for a few beats too long, and even just that look…like a lingering thread connecting us from across the room…makes me think he felt every bit of the same reckless desire I did on Saturday evening.
But just as quickly as I identify the connection, it’s gone. Logan clears his throat and turns his attention to Ivy. He walks into the room, over toward a monitor in the corner.
“Looks like you have a slumber party going on tonight,” he says to her, a charming smile stretching across his handsome face.
I watch as Ivy’s cheeks flush just a tiny bit and she shakes her head, but she doesn’t say anything in response.
Ivy has always been incredibly self-conscious of the sounds she makes when she speaks, worrying that her deafness makes her vocal expressions something to mock. It’s why she has a whiteboard and marker next to her bed, which is the way she prefers to communicate with the nurses and doctors who don’t know how to sign.
“We’re just catching Ivy up on all the latest Hermosa Beach gossip,” Lennon says, and I see Hannah’s hands moving out of the corner of my eye to translate for Ivy. “You can’t expect to keep a teenager caged up in here without the latest scandal to keep her entertained.”
Ivy giggles at that.
“Ah, yes…the scandalous gossip mill. Anything I should know about?”
“Definitely not,” I interject, and all the heads in the room turn to look my way.
I swallow, realizing I said that out loud on accident.
The last thing I want is for Ivy or Hannah or Lennon to decide my story from the gala needs to be shared with Logan. I mean, he wasthere. He knows what happened, but he doesn’t need to have it rehashed in front of him as my face grows more and more red.
I quickly stroke my thumb against my jawline then move my index finger in a small circle near my chest, hoping I’m getting the sign right.
“Girls only,” I say, then look at Ivy and wink.
She grins and winks back.
Logan bobs his head, though I can see him fighting back a smile, almost as if he can surmise what we were talking about without us having to share. But he doesn’t push, instead turning his eyes back to the monitor and taking a few notes in a thick file in his hand.
“You getting more bloodwork tonight?” Hannah asks Ivy, yanking my attention back to where our sweet girl has slumped over in her bed and snuggled her pillow even closer to her chest.
Ivy nods, and that’s when I realize just how tired she looks. Exhaustion is a common side effect of all the medications and treatments she’s receiving to battle the rare blood disease that has ravaged her body for years, but it feels so wrong to see her go from bubbly and energetic just a few minutes ago to slumped over and somewhat despondent so quickly.
“We should get going then,” Hannah offers. “Make sure we don’t wear you out too much.”
Ivy nods again, and I watch as she tries to muster up a smile for her sister. But even that looks forced.
The arrival of Dr. Becker seems to have reminded all of us where we are—not in Ivy’s bedroom having a slumber party, but in a hospital.
