Page 60 of The Friend Scheme
I’m so majorly boned.
CHAPTER TWELVE
It’s official: I like Jason as more than a friend.
I tried my best to stop it, and yet, it happened. I know it in my gut; I know it with everything I have. Ever since we hung out in the pool, it’s like a switch has been flipped. I always noticed he was cute, because he is, and I’ve always liked his company.
But now it’s more than that.
It’s a fully-fledged crush.
Every time I think about him, it’s like my stomach fills with pissed-off butterflies. And I’m smiling so much lately that my cheeks are always kind of sore. Even though all this stuff is going on, thinking about him makes me smilethathard.
Fucking damn it.
I’m sitting with Dad, in his hospital room. He’s finally being brought out of his coma tonight. I can’t believe my timing with this crush, but it’s not the sort of thing I can control.
If I could get rid of these feelings, I would. In a heartbeat.
It’d be a lot easier to stay friends with Jason. And what I need right now, more than anything, is a friend.
I can’t let myself be distracted by this. Luke is here, and so is Vince, who is beside his wife, Sara, and Tony. We’ve been here for hours today, listening mostly to machines beeping and Dad’s breathing. It’s weirdly hypnotizing. All I know is the chemicals keeping Dadunder are no longer being pumped into him, so he could wake up at any time, and my whole family wants to be nearby the second that happens.
It could be because they care about him.
Or they just want to make sure they stay in his good graces.
It’s hard to tell.
Anyway, being here has given me alotof time to think about Jason. Still I haven’t figured out what to do about my feelings for him. Unrequited romantic feelings can often signal the end of a friendship. If I tell him, and he doesn’t feel the same way, then things will get awkward and we’ll probably stop hanging out.
My instincts tell me I need to keep these feelings a secret, until I know how to wrangle them into something controllable. Because they’re totally off the chain, rampaging through my life, making me think about him nonstop.
But then there’s the off chance that he’s feeling something close to what I’m feeling.
In that case…
Across the room, Luke rushes forward to stand by Dad’s bedside. He’s noticed something—I guess because he’s here, not miles away, like me.
Dad groggily opens his eyes.
The first thing he sees is Luke. That feels fitting. I stand up and move over to the bed. Dad sees me and smiles weakly.
“My boys,” he says, reaching out and putting his hand on Luke’s, then on mine.
“We’re here, Dad,” says Luke. “We barely left.”
“I know,” he says. “I could tell.”
Does this mean he’ll be okay? His skin looks slightly translucent, his hair is limp, and his cheeks are covered in salt-and-pepper stubble. But he’s awake, that’s the main thing. He doesn’t look so bad for a guy who took two bullets to the gut, is all I’m saying.
“Welcome back, Mr. Miller,” says the nurse.
Dad opens his mouth, but then his face twists in pain.
“Don’t try to talk,” she says. “Just relax.”
Dad nods and then closes his eyes again.
