Midnight Sun Page 12

  I can’t believe I never knew how great it is to feel so close to someone both physically and mentally. Sometimes, when Charlie and I are lying next to each other kissing, it’s like I want to melt right into him.

  Before I met Charlie, I had given up on ever falling in love in real life, and with that, ever having sex with anyone. It hasn’t happened yet, but the truth is, I wouldn’t say no if the opportunity presented itself someday in the not-so-distant future.

  “Okay, this one’s called freestyle,” he says, showing me how to reach out and draw my arm back to move forward. “It’s, like, the most basic stroke of them all.”

  I give it a go but end up flailing around instead of gliding through the water like Charlie did. “Like this?” I ask him.

  He laughs. “That is what we call the doggie paddle.”

  “Fine, then,” I say. “Show me another one.”

  He launches into another demonstration. “Okay, for this one you push your palms backward along your hips at the end of the pull. That’s the butterfly.”

  All I know is that Charlie’s running his hands down the sides of my body is making me want to get out of the water, start a fire, wrap up in a blanket with him, and make “someday” today. But I haven’t accomplished my goal yet, so I force myself to concentrate on the task at hand.

  “That one’s too hard! Next!”

  “Next is the breast stroke,” Charlie tells me.

  “Is this a trick?”

  “No,” he says, gathering me close to him. “Okay, maybe.”

  I wrap my arms around his neck and smile up at him. “See? This isn’t so bad. You don’t actually hate the water.”

  He gives me the best look ever, like he’s drowning in my eyes. “I don’t hate anything when I’m with you.”

  I stare back at him. I believe in him and everything he says. The stars wink down at us, like they’re blessing our union.

  His lips find mine and we kiss like we’ve spent our whole lives starving for each other. I cannot get enough of Charlie Reed and I absolutely know the feeling is mutual. The heat gets hotter. It’s like we can’t possibly get close enough, but then we do.

  18

  Charlie and I are lying together wrapped in a plush blanket he keeps in the back of his truck. I check my watch. It’s late—far past my curfew—but there’s still time. Sunrise isn’t for another few hours. I’m grateful my dad finally gave me the freedom to decide when the night is over.

  “You need to get home?” Charlie asks.

  “Soon… but not yet.” I wish my answer could be not ever. Charlie pulls me closer and we snuggle into each other.

  “Have you thought any more about Berkeley?” I whisper.

  He stares up at the stars. “I keep thinking about after the surgery, when I couldn’t swim, and I just… didn’t know who I was. At all. And neither did anyone else. I’ve been in school with these people for years, and they just see me as the guy in the pool. Then when I wasn’t in the pool anymore, it was like I was no one to them. And I just think that’s bullshit. I’m not worthless if I’m not a swimmer. I don’t have to live that life. Just because I liked doing something for a long time doesn’t mean I can’t change my mind.”

  I nod. “I get that,” I say, and I truly do.

  But I can’t help feeling there’s something more underneath what he just told me. Maybe it’s a fear of failure or pride he can’t get past. I don’t want him wasting a chance to expand his horizons on useless emotions like that.

  “But I also know what it feels like to watch people living life from the sidelines,” I continue. “You don’t want that either. You might not want to be just the guy in the pool, but you’re not the guy who doesn’t try either. Maybe you won’t end up on the team, but don’t you want to see if you could? I would.”

  Something profound and true hits me. I realize this is how I have to live my life from here on out. I think it applies equally well to Charlie.

  “Do everything you can right now and then decide. Because now is all that matters,” I tell him.

  Charlie kisses my shoulder. He looks like he’s deep in thought. “Maybe I’ll call the coach tomorrow,” he says. “And speaking of tomorrow, I hope you’re ready for the greatest sunrise on the planet.”

  I gasp as the adrenaline kicks in. I look up at the sky. Blackness is giving way to a light purple. I check my watch again: 1:42.

  There’s a brief moment of relief before I realize something is really wrong. The second hand on my watch isn’t moving.

  “What time is it, Charlie?” I whisper, horrified.

  “Four fifty.”

  I feel the life drain out of me. “It’s not waterproof,” I say, almost to myself.

  “What isn’t?” Charlie asks.

  I jump up, frantically grabbing my clothes and cell phone. I click off the do not disturb icon and see I have fourteen missed calls from my dad. How could I have thought I didn’t need him watching over me anymore, even for a second?

  “Oh my God!”

  How can I undo what I did? I’m such an idiot. Dad never should have trusted me. Tears stream down my face as I start sprinting back up toward the road. Maybe I can still race the dark to my house. I’m young. I’m fast.

  I hear Charlie’s footsteps crashing behind me. “Just stay until the sun—”

  “I have to go!” I yell back at him over my shoulder. “Please, we have to leave now! PLEASE!”

  “What’s wrong?”

  But I’m sobbing too hard and time is too precious to answer.

  “Katie! Tell me!”

  I keep running and running. The sky is turning from a deep violet to a pale blue. I’m never going to make it home before the sun is up, but I still have to try. For me. For my dad. For Morgan. For Charlie, who’s never going to forgive himself once he finds out why I’m so panicked even though he did absolutely nothing wrong. Even though my bad decisions are what led to all this.

  Gravel spews up behind me in the parking lot. Charlie pulls up in his truck and rolls down the window. “Katie, you’re scaring me. What the hell is going on?”

  I jump into the passenger seat. “Just go!” I scream.

  Charlie guns the engine. The truck flies down the road, faster, faster. But no mode of transportation barring time travel could beat the sun now, especially not this old junker. The first hint of sunlight is cresting over the hill behind us. Crepuscular rays—those lines of light little kids always draw around the sun—stream forth from the fiery yellow star. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful or terrifying in my whole life.

  “You have to get me home, Charlie,” I beg, even though I know he’s doing everything possible. The absolute best he can.

  He floors it. The truck lurches ahead. But it’s just not going to be enough to save me.

  We screech up to my house a few minutes later. I open the door before we’ve even skidded to a stop. I tumble out of the passenger seat and go sprinting for my house.

  The sun is rising above the hills now, rays piercing through the trees in my yard. I feel them, warm on my skin. My arms. My face. I’m fully exposed. I feel warm, then burning hot. I am on fire.

  I pound on the door, but my dad doesn’t come. I fumble for my key and finally get it into the lock. I throw open the front door and shoot inside. It slams behind me as I fall to the ground, trembling and crying. The only thing I can do now is pray I haven’t caused myself irreparable damage. It’s still possible.

  Anything’s possible, right? Maybe all that will happen is I get a bad sunburn and a big fat lecture from my dad. Miracles happen.

  Charlie’s pounding on the other side of the door. “Can you just talk to me, Katie?”

  But I can’t. How could I? What would I say?

  Charlie keeps knocking and calling my name.

  I run upstairs to get away from it. From him. I’ve ruined everything. Everything. Nothing can ever be okay again.

  From my room, I peer out the window. Charlie still hasn’t left. M
y dad’s car squeals up to the curb. He slams the door, looking like he’s seen a thousand and one ghosts. Like he’s aged a million years in a single night. Morgan is with him. Even though she’s mad at me, she’s with him.

  I’d do anything to take back the pain I’ve caused everyone. To myself. I’ve never felt so alone in my life.

  “Is she in there?” I can hear my dad screaming. He has Charlie by the shoulders and is shaking him, as if that can rewind time. “Is she inside?”

  Dad bursts through the door before Charlie can answer. Outside, Morgan is still yelling at Charlie. “How could you let this happen?”

  “Let what happen?” Charlie yells back. He looks like a bewildered little boy, running his hands through his hair until it stands on end every which way.

  The sad truth of the situation finally dawns on Morgan. And on me. “She never told you? She swore to us that she did!”

  “Told me what?” Charlie looks pale and shaken.

  Here it comes. The words that will change everything. The words I should’ve said to him myself.

  “She’s sick, Charlie. Katie’s sick,” Morgan tells him.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “She has a disease. XP. She can’t be in the sun at all,” Morgan explains. “It could kill her.”

  She runs inside after my dad, leaving Charlie standing all alone. On the outside looking in. Trying to digest the worst news possible.

  I’m not who he thought I was. Not by a long shot.

  19

  “I’m so, so sorry.” I’m saying it to Morgan, but it’s for my dad, too. It’s the first thing I’ve said since they found me in my room. I was silent when they asked me if I was okay, I was silent as they handed me clothes for going outside, I was silent the whole car ride over.

  Because what could I say?

  After so many years of being responsible and safe, after finally convincing my dad I could take care of myself, it turns out I couldn’t.

  I lied to my dad and Morgan. I lied to Charlie. But my silence also came from the crushing realization that I’d been lying to myself, too.

  “It’s okay,” Morgan says. I guess having a near-death experience makes people forgive you really fast.

  “No, Morgan, I’m really sorry.” She grabs my hand and I know that she understands that I mean I’m not just sorry for making her worry but that I’m also sorry for everything I said to her.

  “We love you more than anything, Peanut,” my dad tells me.

  It makes me feel even worse that they’re not mad at me. That they’re just worried and sad and spent. It’s all my fault.

  The three of us are sitting in stiff plastic chairs in the hospital waiting room where Dr. Fleming has an office. I’m completely exhausted, though I’m not sure at this point whether it’s more emotional or physical.

  My face is burning up. My arms feel like they’re engulfed in flames. Morgan assures me this is how normal people feel after a few too many hours in the sun. But I’m not so sure. It feels ominous.

  Even more ominous is my dad’s face right now. He’s grinding his teeth. His eyebrows are furrowed so tightly together that they fuse into a single entity. He sits with his head in his hands, like it’s too heavy for his neck to hold up anymore.

  “Why do they use such uncomfortable chairs?” Morgan muses. “We’re here to get healthy, and we’re gonna leave with back issues.”

  My dad tries to smile at her. It comes off more like a grimace. I give her a little chuckle that turns into a sob.

  “I’m sure everything’s fine,” Morgan says, putting a hand on my leg. “It was just for a second, if that. This is nothing. We’re all good here.”

  Except that while she’s assuring me nothing’s wrong, we’re both staring at the girl in the waiting room who’s about my age. Her hands and head shake; her skin is covered in lesions and dark sores. We all know that might be me next.

  My favorite nurse appears. “We’re ready for you, Katie.”

  Dad goes to stand, but I put a hand out to stop him. “I’ll go myself this time.” If I’m old enough to practically kill myself by being so irresponsible, then I’m also old enough to face the consequences of my actions.

  Dad nods. As I follow the nurse into the office area, Garver bursts through the hospital doors. He runs over to Morgan. She falls into his arms crying.

  “Is she okay?” Garver asks.

  Morgan doesn’t answer. She just buries her head in his shoulder and falls apart. I must look like the walking dead for her to be so upset. I wonder if I actually am.

  Dr. Fleming gives me a warm hug when I get to the exam room. “It’s been a while, Katie,” she says, pulling back to take a closer look at me. “You’ve grown into a beautiful young woman.”

  “I’m sorry I haven’t been at my appointments lately,” I tell her, climbing up onto the examining table with heavy, wooden legs.

  Dr. Fleming offers an understanding smile. “Sometimes I think XP is harder on parents than patients. He was just trying to protect you.”

  “And look how I thanked him for all his sacrifices.” I want to cry, but it’s like I have no tears left in me at this point.

  “There’s no sense in looking backward, Katie,” Dr. Fleming tells me. “And we’ll deal with whatever is in front of us together. Okay?”

  I nod. Nurse Jane takes vial after vial of blood while I stare at the brightly colored murals painted on the wall. I’ve learned over the years that it hurts less if I can’t see the needle or all that deep red liquid coming out of me. Some vampire I am, huh?

  Next, I’m wheeled into the CAT scan room. I want to protest that I can walk there, but to be honest, I’m grateful not to have to. I lie there as still as possible as the lights and sounds of the machine whir around me. I guess I fall asleep, because the next thing I know it’s over and Nurse Jane is telling me it’s time to go back to the exam room.

  There, Dr. Fleming and Jane put on these huge magnifying goggles that look like virtual-reality headsets. They proceed to carefully examine every inch of my body, talking in cryptic code the whole time.

  “Dysplastic nevus, four millimeters.”

  “Congenital nevus, growth noted.”

  “Grouping of new lentigines here.”

  And so on and so on. I wait and listen, wondering what it all means. Wondering what Charlie is thinking right now. If he hates me for lying to him. If I’ll ever see him again.

  And how can I? Dad will never let that happen. Besides, why would Charlie want to see me after the way I betrayed his trust?

  It’s over, I conclude. I was lucky to have him while I did. To experience something I never thought I would. Time to go back to being Rapunzel stuck in my room forever. I was a fool to think I could ever go to college and have a long-term relationship like a normal person.

  Finally, Dr. Fleming says to me, “Okay, you can sit up now, Katie. I’ll go get your father while you get dressed. Meet me back in my office as soon as you’re ready.”

  I pull on my leggings, drag my sweatshirt back over my head, and stuff my feet into my Converse. I trudge down the long hall and sit in the chair in front of Dr. Fleming’s impressively large mahogany desk. My dad is already seated in the chair next to me, staring straight ahead.

  “The sunlight exposure was minimal,” Dr. Fleming begins. “The physical effects you’re seeing right now will heal.”

  My dad puts his hand on my arm and we smile at each other. Maybe I didn’t ruin everything after all.

  “But—”

  Dad winces.

  My stomach drops.

  “As you know, your specific kind of XP generally lies dormant until a triggering event,” she continues. “We won’t know if that’s what this was until we get the results from your blood work and CT scans.”

  My dad leans forward in his chair. “And if this was? A triggering event?”

  I hold my breath, waiting for Dr. Fleming’s answer.

  “We’ll cross that bridge if we co
me to it,” she says. “If you notice any symptoms, Katie—unexpected shaking, muscle pain, loss of motor function—you have to promise to tell me immediately.”

  I nod. My hands are shaking as we speak. Is that a symptom, or just me being tired and scared? Everything feels like a sign right now.

  “Any word on the UW study?” my dad asks as we get up to leave.

  “I followed up with them last week,” Dr. Fleming says. “No news yet.”

  I hope in this case that no news is good news. My dad deserves less bad news in his life.

  I completely crash when I get home, falling into one of those heavy, dreamless sleeps that feel like I’m lost in a big black void. I wake up much later, groggy and crabby. I don’t want to eat or watch a movie or even talk to anyone.

  Morgan comes over and knows me well enough to just be with me, together but doing our own thing. I strum my guitar mindlessly, the chords coming out sounding dissonant and out of key. Morgan pretends to read Dear Gabby, but she doesn’t ever scroll to a new question.

  My phone vibrates constantly. I ignore it. Nothing good can come of answering Charlie’s texts. Better to cut communication off completely and move on than drag this thing out when the end result will be the same no matter what.

  “I know I told you to play hard to get, but you have to at least see what he has to say,” Morgan tells me.

  I shake my head even as my phone vibrates again. Morgan tosses aside her phone, grabs mine, and starts reading the texts.

  “He’s asking you if he can come over to talk to you—”

  “Don’t,” I tell her. “Just delete them.”

  “Katie…”

  I look up, my eyes locking onto Morgan’s. “If I read them, I’ll write back, and then he’ll write back, and then we’ll meet up, which we can’t. No.”

  “Why can’t you? You don’t need to be a martyr to protect Charlie’s delicate feelings. He’s a big boy, I’m sure he can handle—”

  I stop her midsentence. For the first time ever, Morgan has no idea how I’m feeling. “I can’t handle it, okay?” I yell, tears streaming down my face. “I can’t. He’s just gonna get hurt. And I can’t be the one who hurts him. Now will you please just delete them?”