Page 34 of Ward D
She lets out an exasperated huff. “Don’t be stupid, Amy. You have zero idea what’s going on in this class. We can’t fix that by tomorrow morning. The only way you’re going to pass this midterm is with a copy of the exam. Otherwise, you’re totally screwed!”
She’s right, of course. Without help, I’m going to fail this exam. Even an eight-hour study session wouldn’t be enough to save me, and I doubt Jade is willing to do that with me.
But I don’t care. I’m not cheating. I would never do something like that.
Never.
19
PRESENT DAY
Hours Until Morning: 9
“You look terrible, Amy,” Jade says.
“Thanks,” I mutter.
“You look like you’ve been popping Lithium.”
Whatever that means. “I’m fine. Really.”
Her features soften, and for a second, the years melt away. And she is the old Jade, the one I used to walk home with every day from school. The first person I told when anything good happened to me. My best friend. “Hey,” she says. “Can we talk?”
I don’t agree right away. As much as she sometimes looks like the old Jade, I have to remember that a lot of years have passed. I don’t know what kind of person she is anymore, except that she’s here.
Granted, I would have a better idea if I looked through her chart. But I’m not going to do that.
“I’m kind of busy,” I say.
Jade sticks out her little pink tongue. “Liar. You have absolutely nothing to do. You’re just sitting around and making sure none of us hang ourselves or something.”
“Fine,” I say. “Let’s talk.”
“Not here.”
Before I can stop her, Jade has grabbed me by the arm and she’s pulling me down the hallway. We pass by room 912, where Mary is still clicking away with her knitting needles, then room 906, where the light is on and presumably Will is readingOwen Meany. Then we come to a stop at room 905.
Jade shoves open the door and raises her eyebrows at me. I take a deep breath and step inside her room. Jade won’t hurt me. At least, she won’t hurt mephysically.
Once we are inside the room, Jade sits on the one chair in the room, leaving me with two options: sit on her bed or stand. I choose to stand.
“Look, Amy,” she says. “I’m sorry I was such a bitch to you before.”
I blink at her in surprise. I’m so surprised that I actually do sit down on her bed, which creaks threateningly under my weight. The mattress is not exactly high quality.
“You’ve got to understand.” She plays with the white laminated band around her left wrist, which gives her name, date of birth, and hospital ID number. “When I saw you, I just felt like such a loser. Here you are, basically living the life you always wanted. I mean, you’re going to be adoctor. And hereIam. I’m nothing. I’m nowhere. And honestly…” She takes a shaky breath. “I don’t know if I’m ever going to do anything with my life. I couldn’t even hold down a freaking waitress job. Even mymomwas able to do that.”
“I’m sure you’ll be okay.”
Jade shoots me a look. “What exactly are you basing that on? I’m hospitalized in a psychiatric unit right now. What makes you think I’m going to be okay?”
“Because you’re getting help,” I point out. “The doctors are adjusting your medications, and they’re going to fix your problems. And then you can do… whatever you want to do. You can be a fashion designer if that’s what you want.”
That’s what Jade wanted to do through most of grade school and middle school. Then when we got to high school, she had a different career aspiration what seemed like every single week, and it always seemed like she was super excited about this new future career. In retrospect, it was just her mania.
“They’re never going to get my medications right,” Jade grumbles. “They’ve been trying for the last eight years.”
“It just takes time…”
