Breathless Read Free

school, so Cooper’s announcement shocks me. “But God’s real,” I say.
    “Not for me.”
    Darla’s back with my Coke. “What’s wrong?”
    “Emily wants to pray for Travis and I don’t believe in God.”
    Darla says, “I believe in God.”
    “Well, good,” Cooper says. “Then you two pray.”
    Before I can say a word, Cooper adds, “Wait. Here come your parents.”
    I throw myself into Mom’s arms. “How is he?”
    “His leg’s broken—his femur—thigh bone, up high near his pelvis.”
    “Can they fix it?” This from Darla.
    “They want to check him in.”
    “Can’t they just set it and send him home?” I ask.
    Dad says, “Can’t set the bone until the swelling goes down.”
    Cautiously Mom says, “They want to run some tests.”
    “What kind of tests?”
    “We can talk at home. Right now, we want to get him settled upstairs.”
    “What do you want us to do, Miz Morrison?” Cooper speaks up.
    “Go home. Take Emily—”
    “Please let me stay,” I say quickly. “I—I want to see Travis.”
    “You’re half naked,” Mom reminds me.
    Dad steps between us. “I’ll run her home to change, then we’ll come right back.”
    I don’t want to leave, but Mom’s making the rules.
    “I want to see him too,” Darla says, looking frightened.
    “Tomorrow.” Mom pats Darla’s hand.
    “We’ll go take care of the boat,” Cooper says.
    For the first time I think about our boat, which we’ve abandoned on the shore near the marina. Our cooler is back at Chimney Rock too.
    “I’d appreciate that,” Dad says.
    Cooper is halfway to the door when Darla bolts after him. “Wait for me!”
    Once they’re gone, Mom walks to the elevators.
    “Let’s go, honey.” Dad puts his arm around my shoulders.
    A hundred questions are banging around inside my head. I ask none of them. Whatever happened to Travis is more than a broken bone. I’ve been the child of a nurse too long to not know better.

Travis
    “Y ou could have drowned.” Mom tells me that one too many times.
    “But I didn’t.” After three days trapped in this hospital bed with nothing but medical tests and daytime TV game shows and soap operas for entertainment, drowning doesn’t sound all that bad. “When will they finish with me? I don’t want to spend all summer in the hospital.”
    Mom crosses her arms. “Not until Dr. Madison figures it out.”
    “They’ve taken a gallon of blood. What’s with that? Just tell him to set my leg and send me home.”
    “He has the medical degree, not you,” Mom says.
    I’ve had accidents before—stitches, a concussion, a broken arm once when I was five—and I was never checked into the hospital. “That doesn’t mean the guy knows what he’s doing.”
    Mom’s mouth makes a straight line that tells me to back off. I grumble, “If I’m stuck here, I need some decent food. I’m starving.”
    “I get you double helpings.” She leans down, kisses my cheek. “I’ve got to go on duty. Your dad and Emily will be here shortly.”
    “Can they bring some ice cream?”
    She doesn’t answer. I pick up the TV remote and surf for old
Star Trek
episodes. Beam me up, Scotty.
    Once we’re alone in my room that afternoon, Emily chews me out about my dive. Her hair’s pulled back in a ponytail, her face is sunburned. “It was totally stupid!” She looks about twelve, with an angry grown-up expression, but I let her vent.
    “Hey … it’s a broken leg. It’ll heal.”
    “And you’ll jump again.”
    “Probably.”
    “That’s not funny.”
    I take her hand. “Look, sis, we are who we are.You’re a thinker, and you figure all the angles before you do something. Not me. I like the adrenaline high, and that’s never going to change.”
    She grumbles, “I would have figured out I’d get hurt if I jumped from the top of Chimney Rock.”
    “It never crossed my mind,” I tell her honestly.
    “It should have. You’re not Superman.”
    “You’ve never flown. You don’t know how it