With Malice Read Online Free Page A

about who could visit, but it seemed like they should try. Sneak in if they had to. I would have done it for Simone. Considering she’d once broken into the school through a small window in the bathroom to get a pair of shoes she left in her locker and just
had
to wear on the weekend, it seemed like she could slink past a nurse and see me. She and Tara could come up with some kind of scheme and make it work.
    My leg itched under the cast. I wanted to dig my nails in and scratch, but that wasn’t allowed either. The list of things I couldn’t do was long. I knew I should be glad that I was mostly okay, but I felt sorry for myself. My dad had come by only once since I’d woken up. He sent flowers. Some weird orange and purple things that looked like they belonged in a sci-fi movie instead of a vase. I was willing to bet they were expensive. Nothing common like roses from him. I was also willing to bet his admin assistant had ordered them for me.
    â€œHello!” Two of the care aides bustled in, breaking me out of my funk. They didn’t speak the best English, but they were really nice. They seemed impossibly tiny, but their size was deceptive. They were freakishly strong. One of them filled my water pitcher while the other started bustling around the room.
    â€œWe change your linens,” the aide announced. She pulled a wheelchair up next to my bed and dropped the armrest on one side. She patted for me to move to the edge. “Okay, put your good foot on the ground, then you lean on me. I swing you over. Leave your leg with cast on the bed.” My stomach rolled with unease. If I jostled my leg, it was going to really hurt.
    â€œI’m not sure—” I sat up, and in one swoop, she had my butt in the wheelchair. She put up the side with a click and then raised the leg rest so it was even with the seat and moved my casted leg over. The IV bag clipped to the pole on the chair. If she wanted, she probably could have bench pressed me over her head without breaking a sweat.
    She clapped her hands together, and her shiny black hair swayed back and forth like a curtain. “There. Done. You wait two minutes, we get you right back.” The aide pulled the sheets from the bed with a swoosh, like a magician removing a tablecloth. They were like a tiny Asian version of Penn and Teller. They chattered back and forth to each other in a language I didn’t understand.
    That’s when I got the idea. I rolled the chair slightly forward. I looked out the open door. Just down the hall, there was a waiting room, no doubt full of uncomfortable furniture and outdated magazines. I could see a vending machine down there. Non-Jell-O snacks. I could hear a TV. Then I saw it hanging on the wall—a phone with a giant LOCAL CALLS ONLY sign above it. That was it. I was calling Simone. If she wouldn’t reach out to me, I’d get in touch with her.
    â€œI’m just going to get some air,” I said. Neither of the aides looked up from what they were doing. I pushed the wheels forward. My heart was pounding like I was sneaking out for a wild weekend instead of going down the corridor. I stopped just outside the room. Everyone moved around at what seemed like a thousand miles an hour.
    Pull your shit together,
I admonished myself. If I stayed there much longer gawping at everything, Lisa or another nurse was going to notice and roll me right back into my room. I pushed myself down the hall. My leg on the raised footrest stuck straight out from the chair, like the prow of a ship. I said a quick prayer that no one would run into it, because I was certain I would end up writhing on the floor in pain while Lisa and my mom stood over me telling me they’d told me so.
    There was a metal cart parked halfway down the hall. I paused. I could see a distorted reflection of myself in it. At least I hoped it was distorted. I touched my swollen forehead, my finger tracing the stitches that made a black