M.I.N.D. Read Free Page A

in my head.
    There’s something she’s not telling me. She has that look, like when I asked her where babies came from and she answered, “Paris.” We were eating French toast at the time, so it was probably the first thing that popped into her mind.
    Or like when I was ten and I woke up in this same hospital and asked her where my father was. She didn’t say anything.
    â€œIt’s your other friend,” she says quietly. “The one you don’t speak to anymore.”
    Once again, my panic rises. Amanda. “What about her?” I whisper.
    No answer.
    â€œOh, my God,” I say. “Oh, my God.”
    â€œNo, no,” my mother says. She touches my arm as though to reassure me. “She’s alive.” Though what she says next doesn’t reassure me at all. “But it doesn’t look good. She’s in a coma.”
    Old grudges slip away like sand through my fingers, and tears stream down my face. Tears of grief for the girl who was once my friend, tears of regret for who she became. I picture her in the parking lot, looking cold and frail. I picture her crazed expression, her large shiny pupils bouncing on her eyes. I see her jumping up from her seat, lunging at the driver, grabbing the wheel…
    It doesn’t matter that she ditched me, or that for the past eight months she’s been a capital B. It doesn’t even matter that because of her, I might have to spend the rest of my life living in a bubble.
    She doesn’t deserve this. No one does.
    A wave of fatigue washes over me, and I feel myself drifting. So tired…so very tired…can’t think about anything… I don’t fight it. I’m grateful for the oblivion.
    ***
    I open my eyes to Leanne’s intense stare.
    â€œHey, sleepyhead,” she says, all solemn.
    â€œStop gawking. I’m not dead.” I glance around the room. “How’d you get past the warden?” My mother warned me, no visitors allowed. Except for her, of course. Her orders, not the doctor’s. She said I don’t need the stress. Like she doesn’t give me stress? The other bed is still empty, but on the windowsill is a bouquet of white and yellow roses. “You snuck in through the window?”
    â€œThat’s me,” Leanne says, “a regular spider monkey.”
    We exchange a smile. Leanne’s been dating Josh Melone, jock supreme, since junior high. Problem was, her father said she couldn’t date until high school. A perk to having three older sisters: You inherit all their sneak-out tactics, like spraying squeaky door hinges with Pam, or using extra fabric softener so your clothes don’t rustle. And, of course, maneuvering through the low-hanging willow tree without breaking a nail. Unfortunately, she also got their hand-me-downs, like that white pleather jacket that looks like a bath mat.
    She sits on the blue plastic chair. “Actually, I didn’t see your mother anywhere. Maybe she went to the gift shop to get you a magazine. Or a stuffed animal. She can post it outside as a warning. Your own personal guard bunny.”
    I grimace. “Funny how whenever she leaves, suddenly I’m Miss Popularity.”
    I tell her how earlier today my mother went to lunch and the place turned into Grand Central Terminal. Okay, fine. Only two people showed up, but that’s two more than if she’d been here. First Ethan came by. I didn’t know what to say to him. I mean, God, his sister is in a coma. Then Brendan dropped by, which was even stranger, seeing how he hardly said two words to me when Amanda was conscious. He asked me all these questions, like what did Amanda say to me on the bus, and what else do I remember?
    â€œI told him I don’t remember anything,” I say to Leanne. “What’s it his business anyway? She was talking to me, not him.”
    Leanne nods. “Maybe he feels guilty. I heard they had a fight. First they