Two Girls Staring at the Ceiling Read Online Free Page B

of tissues clips my ear.
    “Case you feel like crying again.”
    “I won’t!”
    I sit up, chuck them back
    the way they came.
    “Missed!”
    “Oh, yeah?”
    I toss my tissue box over
    as the vitals lady wheels in
    her vitals-checking machine.
    “Ha! Ya missed!”
    “You girls must be feeling better,”
    she says, making sure my blood’s
    still pumping before
    I drift off again.
    “N o reason to think …
    every reason to believe …
    tough disease … hard sometimes
    to make a definitive …
    but the tests all indicate …
    chronic but these days …”
    Bald-head doctor’s voice
    too fast, too smooth,
    too jolly, hearty, way too close,
    drawing squiggly pictures of intestines
    as Mom nods and peppers him
    with questions I can’t listen to.
    I don’t know
    this hard and tough language.
    Don’t speak Disease.
    And I am so tired,
    I close my ears until he’s gone,
    and through the curtain Shannon mutters:
    “Duh. I could’ve diagnosed her
    two days ago.
    You don’t need to be a friggin’ genius
    to know she’s got Crohn’s. Same as me.
    Crohn’s. Inflammatory bowel—”
    “Excuse me?”
    C-words ricochet
    around my brain.
    “You don’t know me!
    You know nothing about me or my …”
    My mouth runs screaming
    from the B-word.
    “Mom. Could you see if this
    curtain closes any tighter?”
    “Fine with me.
    Who said I was even talking to you?
    I’m just saying, it pisses me off,
    these turkeys talking about tough.
    They wouldn’t know tough
    if it bit them on their flabby ass.”
    “L et’s talk about happy things,”
    Mom says.
    “So Lily won
    her tennis tournament.
    Julia’s loving France.
    Ruby’s still rafting down the Snake,
    but I know she’d love
    to hear from you.
    In fact, everyone’s
    calling, texting,
    worried, wondering
    when they can …
    In fact, Alexis said
    if Brianna can get the car
    they might be by.”
    “NO!
    I TOLD YOU
    I DIDN’T
    WANT YOU TO …
    “MOM, DID YOU TELL
    THEM THAT I HAVE …”
    A gross disease
    with even grosser names.
    “TELL ME
    YOU DIDN’T.
    BECAUSE
    I DON’T, OKAY?”
    Shouting to drown
    the thrum of beetles.
    “AND … IF ANYONE
    ASKS YOU ANYTHING
    ABOUT … you know …”
    My eyes touch my hand
    for wings
    I know are gone.
    “C hessie, you’re acting like you
    did something bad.
    Like this is some kind of
    terrible secret.”
    It’s true.
    Every bubble
    snaking its way
    down the tube
    to the tub of gunk
    clipped to my bed,
    Each aching swallow
    reminds me
    of my gross
    green secret,
    And I wish
    I could tell her, wish
    we were two different people
    so I could tell her.
    “You’re sick, sweetie.
    They’re your friends.
    They love you.
    “Here. Text them. Talk to them.
    You must have dozens of texts
    waiting for you.
    If you had your cell.”
    With a plump of the pillows
    and a kiss, Mom leaves me her phone.
    “I’ll bring the charger for you tomorrow.”
    “They could have mixed up
    my tests with Shannon’s,”
    I call after her.
    “Or anybody’s.
    It’s possible, right? Doctors
    make mistakes all the time.
    It’s possible I don’t have a disease at all.”
    A snort hmmphs
    through the curtain.
    “Right. Little Miss Cupcake couldn’t
    have the same disease as Trailer Girl.”
    T he Orange Croc Doc is barely
    through the door before
    I’m demanding a new room,
    no roommate,
    saying if I’m sick, it’s sick
    of everybody thinking
    they know more
    about me
    than I do,
    Saying loud enough
    to drown out the TV’s infuriating drone,
    I’m the girl who always
    makes the honor roll,
    eats her veggies,
    takes her vitamins,
    runs every day.
    I saved a rabbit from the neighbor’s cat,
    rescued a turtle from the road.
    If I hadn’t run to get the EpiPen when
    Mom stepped on that yellow jacket nest,
    she would be dead.
    And not just that.
    I’m a junior lifesaver,
    I took CPR.…
    So if there’s any fairness
    in the world, I should be fine,
    not stuck here
    peeing in a bedpan,
    with bubbles glubbing
    out my nose,
    on