Cracked (13 page)

I don’t hear anything from Dicktoria’s side and I wonder if he’s still sleeping. Ellie breezes in and tells me that when I’m feeling up to it, I’m welcome to eat breakfast with the rest of the kids in the cafeteria down the hall. She tells me that’s where Victor is. Like I care where he is. Group is in an hour, and she’d like me to go today. I tell her I’m not up to it. She tells me I don’t really have a choice, with a huge, stomach-melting smile.

“Up and at ’em, Sir William. I’m not letting you shower alone today.”

I raise my eyebrows.

She raises her eyebrows back at me and smiles. “You know what I mean!” she says. “Now let’s get you up. Lean on me.”

I guess I don’t have a choice, because she’s already helping me sit up. I give her a half smile as my stomach rolls my breakfast around, mixing it nicely with the terrifying reality of her seeing me naked. I instantly feel nauseous and I wince.

Ellie stops and says soothingly, “William, relax, okay. I’m a nurse and this is my job. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Now just let me help you.”

I close my eyes, take a deep breath, do as she says, and the
next thing I know, I’m in a wheelchair on my way to the bathroom. She says she put a special chair in there for me so that I can sit during my shower.

“I am going to be right on the other side of the door to help you back into the wheelchair. And no, I won’t look.”

Ellie helps me out of my gown and gets me situated. I’m naked on my shower chair. One hundred percent naked. My body realizes this in like two seconds and sends blood to my crotch just to further embarrass me. She never takes her eyes off mine.

I think I love her.

BREAKFAST ISN’T THAT BAD—PANCAKES AND SAUSAGE.
The only annoying thing is trying to eat it all with a spoon while you’re trying to look cool in front of Nikole. I end up losing a piece of sausage midmeal as it rebels against the spoon and flies across the table. This makes Nikole laugh. Her laugh is contagious, and the whole table ends up laughing.

At first I don’t know how to react, so I immediately shrink into self-protection mode. But after a few seconds I realize that these people are laughing
with
Nikole and not
at
me. She jabs me and then leans her head against my shoulder, all while she is giggling.

I like when people laugh
with
me and not
at
me.

“Did you see how far that sucker went?”

Suddenly I laugh, hard. My body seems to wake up from the inside out as it shakes and makes noise. To be honest, I really can’t remember the last time I laughed like this. Maybe when I was a kid? I don’t know. But right now laughing makes me feel alive.

It ends up being a great breakfast.

Therapist Lisa floats in and announces that group will be early today, like in an hour, but I don’t hear the reason why. I’m lost in the happiness pulsing through my veins. The hospital staff begins to clear the table, and I wish I could freeze time. I want people to be still so I can fully appreciate this feeling. Nikole stands up and I get up too.

Ellie appears in the doorway and says, “Hey, guys, the cleaning staff is in the common room. You’ll have to hang in your rooms till group. Sorry about that.”

We all head back to our rooms, which doesn’t take long. The ward itself (that’s what everyone here calls it) is only a small wing on one floor of the hospital with four bedrooms, a small nurses’ station, dining room, common room, group therapy room, and a doctor’s office—which has been dark and locked since I’ve been here—and that’s it.

I’m still smiling about the sausage when I realize I’m going
to have to face Bull. I replay the events of yesterday. Me leaving him on the bathroom floor. Me calling him an asshole. I am thankful he is injured because if he wasn’t . . . well, let’s just say it would be a bloodbath. Why does he have to be my roommate? Of all the people in the whole damn world, why do I have to have
him
?

I do not want to walk in there. I can’t walk in there. Fear grabs hold of one of my ankles and terror grabs the other. I’m frozen in the hallway. Literally frozen. I can’t move. I can’t go in there.

“Hey, Victor Konig,” Ellie says, waving me into my room.

Bull is wet-headed and now wearing his own gray sweats, sitting in his wheelchair by his bed.

“Okay now, gentlemen. I am only one woman. So Victor, I need you to do me a favor,” she says. I must look stunned or stupid because she singsongs, “Helloooooo? Anybody in there? Victor?”

I nod my head while my heartbeat gongs in my ears. I think I know what she is going to ask me to do, and I won’t do it.

“Good, you’re with us. Now, Victor, I’m going to need you to wheel your roommate around for me. You know, to the cafeteria and group.”

I knew it. I knew it. I knew she was going to ask me that.

Bull speaks. “Ellie, I got it. I’m fine. I don’t need help.”

Ellie huffs with a smile. “Oh, William, you’ve got it, do you? How do you think you’re going to wheel yourself around with a broken wrist?”

With a smirk on his face, Bull raises his good arm up and shakes it.

“One arm? You think you can maneuver this wheelchair with one arm? Try it,” she says.

Bull rolls about two feet and then he stops. His face screws up in anger. I’ve seen that look before.

Ellie turns to me and says, “So, Victor Konig, you game?” Her eyes literally sparkle like when the sun hits the ocean. She’s that hot. My brain shouts,
NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, I will NOT wheel that turd around!!!
But I feel my mouth move, and I hear my words betray me. “I guess,” I mumble.

“Good! Thanks, King Victor. You guys have group in forty-five minutes,” she says, and then she’s gone.

I don’t say a word to him. I grab the fresh towel from the foot of my bed and head directly into the bathroom.

As I stand in the steaming hot shower I openly insult myself.

You idiot. You freakin’, freakin’ idiot. You stupid, freakin’ idiot.

I AM AN IDIOT. A WEAK-ARMED IDIOT. WHY DID I
have to break the wrist on my good arm? Why? Because I’m an idiot, that’s why. I know I’d have the strength to wheel myself around if I had broken my other arm. But no, now Dicktoria has to wheel me around like we’re boyfriends. Maybe one of the other kids in group will do it for me, but they’re probably all dorks like him. Boo-hoo, nobody likes me, waaaaahhh.

Stupid wrist. He is beyond lucky that I’m stuck in this effing wheelchair or I’d kick his ass when he gets out of the shower.

I’m all fired up.

And out of the blue I start reciting that poem in my head.

Many children know pain, heartbreak, disappointment at the hands of those who are meant to love them.

I stop and laugh. Me, Bull Mastrick, reciting poetry.
That
is a real shocker.

I have the poem almost memorized, but I can’t remember the ending. I reach over and grab it off of my nightstand. I read it again.

My face is getting hot. What is the matter with me? Why would I read it now? He is going to be out of the shower soon. Wouldn’t that be such a cute scene—me crying in my wheelchair?

Hell no.

I want to rip the paper to shreds. But I stop. I punch the arm of my wheelchair with my good fist. I can’t do it.

The poem is true. That poem is my life. Well, the first three stanzas of it, anyway. Heartbreak? Yeah, check. Pain? Pop has his PhD in that shit. Broken and crumpled? I feel like those words and everything they stand for are what’s pumping through my veins. Not blood.

But the strange part? It’s the rest of the poem that made me bawl last night, especially the “hollow egg” part. And the word “fragile.” I realized that if I counted up the times in my shitty life where I’ve felt like a fragile egg, well, I’m pretty
sure it would be in the hundreds. No kid should have to feel breakable.

What I should’ve had was the part about being loved without conditions and limitations and shit. It’s what any kid wants. What every kid deserves.

I only got the first three stanzas, and that blows.

A-hole’s out of the shower and pushing me down the hall without a word. Fine by me. Even though I almost lost it again back there in our room, I can’t give up this opportunity.

“You ever ignore me like that again, DICKtoria, and I’ll knock your ass out,” I say. I tilt my head back to look at him and instead get a view up his nose. He acts like he doesn’t hear me and looks straight ahead. He’s such a chickenshit.

“I know you hear me,” I say to his chin.

He does more ignoring. I can’t really knock him out while sitting in this wheelchair, but we have stopped moving, so I put my head back down. I’m now in a small circle. All eyes are on me. Right away I say a mental,
Thank you, Ellie
, as I see that we are all dressed in sweats and slippers. If I had to face these people with my ass hanging out of a hospital gown, I think I’d crap myself.

I don’t smile at anyone. I just stare at them individually. I can tell this makes the fat guy uncomfortable because he scrunches his face and then moves in his seat. The girl with the long, greasy black hair lifts her eyes from some notebook she’s scribbling in
and starts blinking. A lot. Some of the girls smile, but the other dude in the circle smirks at me. I don’t like him already.

A dorky lady starts talking. “Good morning, my loverlies, let’s get this party started.” All eyes turn to her. “We have another new group member. Everyone, this is William. William, this is everyone.”

I do nothing but stare. The lady breaks my angry stare by saying, “Welcome, William. I’m Lisa, and I’ll be the therapist running your group sessions. Anytime you’d like to talk or join in, you don’t need permission. Same goes for you, Victor. All right, yesterday we left off with Brian and Lacey sharing a very important moment. Brian? Lacey? Would you like to start us off ?”

A girl, Lacey, nods and then talks.

“I still feel really bad that I said ‘fat slob’ in front of Brian,” she says, “I mean, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I feel like I should’ve been more, like, aware or something. I just feel really bad that I hurt you, Brian. I swear.”

I know the fat dude’s name now.

He says, “Yeah, I know you feel bad. I could tell. I’m not saying it doesn’t hurt every time I hear crap like that, but I’m used to it. You said some nice stuff yesterday, though, and that made me sleep really good. I didn’t have any nightmares last night. Which is pretty cool.”

Lisa tells him this is a big breakthrough for him and that he needs to think about why that is. She tells him to write down what he comes up with and bring it to group tomorrow. He says he will.

I look around the circle and notice this hot girl with curly blond hair silently mouthing words to Dicktoria, and he’s smiling and whispering back to her.

Lisa sees this too. “Nikole, Victor, you know the rules. No sidebar conversations in group. Would either of you like to share?”

Nikole smiles and says, “I’m sorry, Lisa. It’s just that Victor and I really want to hear the new guy’s story.” Victor looks like he just swallowed an ice pick.

“And why is that, Nikole?” Lisa says.

“Well, he’s the only one in a wheelchair, and we think he probably has an interesting story. You know, how he ended up in here. That’s all.”

The whole circle of people turns to me.

I know my face is red; I can feel it. There is no way in hell I’m talking to this group of freaks. None of them would understand what I’ve been through. I can just tell. They can just die for all I care.

I want to kill Victor Konig.

NIKOLE IS THE COOLEST PERSON I WILL EVER KNOW.
She has no fear. Well, actually, she has no idea there’s a monster sitting across from her, because if she did, she would’ve never put him on the spot like this. Not Bull Mastrick. No way. But she doesn’t know anything about him, and she wants to hear his story.

She spontaneously orchestrated the whole thing as soon as I sat down next to her in group. She made fun of his scowling stare and said she was going to make him talk. I smiled back at her and let her go. I can’t believe she said “
we
think he probably has an interesting story.” We. Not I. We. As in me
and her. For once I’ve got this whole group of people around me who laugh
with
me, talk
to
me; he wouldn’t do anything in front of them.

Bull doesn’t say anything. Lisa jumps in. “Nikole, Victor, thank you for trying to include William. William, would you like to share your story with us?”

He shakes his head no.

“When you’re ready. Only when you’re ready,” Lisa says calmly. I watch Bull’s chest collapse as he releases a breath. I want Lisa to push him. I want him to squirm in that wheelchair. I want him to crack and shatter into little pieces so the custodian sweeps him up and dumps him in with the rest of the hospital trash.

But Lisa redirects the group and gets Jenny to talk about her cheating boyfriend. We hear all about it, every single dramatic detail. Lots of tissues are used during Jenny’s time, and with Lisa’s guidance, she ends up concluding that ultimately, she’s afraid to leave and go back out into the real world and face him. The other girls chime in with advice and supportive statements of how she can do it, and by the end I think she feels pretty good about herself, but who knows.

I feel jealous of her. I wish
I
could open up and just dump my entire hideous life into the center of the circle for everyone to dissect and give me advice—but Bull’s here.

Group ends on a positive note. The girls hug Jenny and promise to keep in touch, and we all head into the common room, everyone except Jenny and Lacey. They head to their room arm in arm. I hear Lacey say, “Well, at least you don’t have anything to pack.”

I’m sitting on the one sofa next to Nikole, carefully watching her tuck her hair behind her ear and thinking it’s incredibly sexy, when Brian stands in front of me and says, “Hey, dude, aren’t you supposed to wheel that new guy around?”