Page 22 of Cultivating Caden
Ten giggled. “He’ll be furious. If we play games, he’ll be back in fifty-three minutes, demanding to know why you didn’t take me back where he thinks I’m supposed to be.”
“And what happens if I take you back?”
A plump lip jutted out. “I’ll cry.”
As strange as it was, Caden believed Quade was telling the truth. He didn’t know how, but Ten trulydidknow things. It didn’t mean he’d make it easy for him to guilt him into doing something. “Don’t even try it on me, you little scammer.”
But Caden’s resolve was weakening as Ten peered up at him, his sadness obvious. Caden knew what it was like to be a kid stuck in the hospital. All the adults who talked around you, how boring it was when you couldn’t leave your room, and how much it sucked when you couldn’t see your friends because they weren’t allowed to visit.
He’d been eight when he first got sick. Pale, anemic, barely able to stay awake. His mother couldn’t find anything wrong with him, and neither could the doctors. He’d been in the hospital for almost a month, being poked and prodded, jabbed and stabbed, and ignored by pretty much everyone.
He ended up in the hospital more than a dozen times over the next three years, always with the same symptoms, and his prognosis worried Caden’s mother. They didn’t know what was wrong with him, but it was getting markedly worse each time. Then, when he turned thirteen, it all went away. He was full of energy and vigor, his skin returned to a healthy glow. Doctors had no answers as for why.
“Because your body was preparing for puberty.”
Ten’s voice startled Caden. “What?”
“You were sick because your body was trying to store up energy for the changes that would occur inside you.”
“What are you talking about?”
Ten sighed. “You were wondering why you were so sick. I just told you why.”
“Can you read my mind?” Caden wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
Ten flushed. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were talking aloud. Sometimes it’s hard for me to tell the difference. Usually I don’t intrude, but for some reason, your mind is like an open door to me. I’ll try to stay out of it.”
“You’re definitely an unusual kid, Tennyson.”
“Yes, but I won’t always be.”
“What does that mean?”
Instead of answering, he smiled. “Can we play games now?”
Caden glanced down the hall at Quade’s room. They had almost an hour, so why not?
“Sure, let’s go. Just so you know, I’m great at games.”
“Yes, I know. Bring it on.”
