Viral Page 6

  Will she want to see me?

  Joanne’s voice jerks me back to earth. She’s all business. “A social worker is on his way,” she tells me.

  I nod.

  “Do you have phone numbers for Lindsay’s parents? The social worker will want to speak with them,” she says.

  Of course. I have to call Lorraine and Darius. They’ll be arriving home anytime now, wondering where their daughter is. They need to know what’s happening.

  “Uh, yeah,” I say. “I’ll give them a call.”

  “Good.” The nurse tucks her pen back into the little metal clasp on her clipboard. Her face softens. She touches my arm. “She’ll be okay, Michael. She came in early enough.”

  Tears sting my eyes and I nod again. “Good,” I say. A huge weight edges itself off my chest. “Thanks.”

  She smiles.

  Part of me desperately wants to believe what the nurse said. That Lindsay’s going to make it.

  But another part is terrified she’s never coming back.

  I realize I don’t know Darius’s number at work. I don’t know Lorraine’s cell number either. Suddenly I panic.

  I force myself to take a deep breath.

  Well, duh, Mike.

  I can call my mom and have her get ahold of Lindsay’s parents.

  “Mom?” I say when she picks up. I’m careful to control my voice.

  “Hey, sweetie. Where are you? You’re usually home by now.”

  “Yeah. Well, I’m at the hospital,”

  I say.

  Mom’s voice sharpens. “What’s wrong? Michael? Honey? Are you all right?”

  “Yes. Yeah. I’m okay, Mom,” I reassure her. “I’m okay. But Lindsay’s sick. I, uh…I brought her here.” With a bit of help.

  “Oh,” she says. I can hear the relief in her voice. “Well, is she going to be all right? What’s she sick with?”

  And then I explain. All of it. Every bit.

  “Oh, honey,” Mom says when I finish. “I’m sure she’s getting the best care possible.” She’s probably right. And it’s what I need to hear. “Lindsay’s been through a lot this year. You’ve been a good friend to her, Michael.”

  Have I? I’m not so sure.

  I shake my head. “Not good enough,” I say. “But I’m here for her now.” As I put the words out there, I realize they’re totally correct. I am here now.

  Fully. Fearlessly. Finally.

  “Hey, listen, Mom. Can you call Lindsay’s folks? I don’t have their numbers. They need to know what happened.”

  “You bet, baby,” she says. “I’ll let them know she’s stable. They’ll want to come down right away.”

  “Kay. Thanks.”

  “Mike?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you want me to come down there too?”

  I think about this. But there’s nothing my mother can do. Soon enough I’ll have Lindsay’s parents to talk to. And the social worker. And the nurses. Maybe doctors.

  But first I want to see Lindsay.

  “Nah,” I say. “I think I’m okay. I won’t be home until later though.”

  “Fine, baby,” says Mom. “Take care of you.”

  “Take care of you,” I say back. I send the same words to Lindsay.

  I close my phone and sit on the curb for a few minutes to pull myself together.

  When I head back through the sliding doors, the nurse informs me that Lindsay’s been admitted. Room 262. I head for the stairs.

  As I get there, a doctor is leaving the room. She’s short, and her glasses sit far down on her nose. “Are you the one who brought this young lady in?” she asks. She peers at me over the top of her glasses. Everything about her says smart. And a lot says tired.

  I nod.

  “You’re her boyfriend?”

  I shrug. “Something like that.” When I say the words, a little tribe of butterflies suddenly breaks loose in my stomach. I could get used to that feeling.

  I nod toward the closed door. “How is she?”

  She sighs. “She’ll be fine,” she says. “She’s a very lucky young woman. There were a lot of drugs in her system.”

  I shudder. I’m not going to let myself think about what might have happened.

  “She needs to rest,” the doctor continues. “I’ll let you have a few moments with her, and then I’d like to talk with you about what happened.”

  I nod. “Okay. Thanks.”

  She swishes away, soft-soled shoes squeaking on the waxed floors. I’m left standing in front of the wide blue door. It’s the only thing standing between me and the future.

  I stare down at my hand on the doorknob.

  And turn.

  Alex Van Tol makes her living as a word ninja in Victoria, British Columbia. She writes for businesses and magazines, and spends way too much time online. Viral is Alex’s third novel with Orca Book Publishers. Get to know her better at alexvantol.com.