Pandemic (7 page)

Was it now?

I tried calling Mom, but with the time difference, her voice mail kicked in. I hung up, rehearsed a normal-sounding message, then called again.

“Hi, Mom. Glad you’ll be home soon. It would be great if you would call. Love you.” My voice only cracked the slightest bit.

To keep busy, I checked my email. There was one message from school about Career Day:

With the flu in our county, Career Day was no longer an option, giving me a lot of time to fill this weekend. To start, Dad gave me his credit card to order flowers for Angela. That killed twenty minutes. Straightening my already tidy closet took a few more. Opening each desk and dresser drawer, I surveyed the contents as if for the first time. Did I really need last year’s science notes? Or plans for community service projects I would never pursue? I tossed and purged, leaving a neat pile of photos and some current school papers. I even made my bed, carefully tucking in the pale green sheets and folding back the cheerful quilt I’d had for years. It didn’t matter that it was almost time for bed. I kept moving, straightening pillows, refolding clothes, taking out the trash.

When Dad closed the door to his office to make some calls, I hovered outside, straining to listen. His conversation didn’t seem flu-related, though, so I checked on my emergency stash, lined up the cans, made neat stacks of the boxes. Finally, the tight band of fear around my stomach loosened a little.

I remembered how freaked out people were during the H1N1 outbreak several years ago. The first round of vaccine ran out in a few hours and people in our town practically rioted. Dad mentioned once that if a new flu ever emerged, it would take at least five months to develop an updated vaccine.

The important thing was to survive until then.

C
HAPTER
7

As a result of this illness, career opportunities are expected to increase for emerging infectious disease specialists over the next several years.

—Blue Flu interview, author of the annual “US Job Predictions” report

D
ad stood at the door ready to leave. “I’ll be home on Monday,” he said, giving me a big hug.

I clung to him a moment, but he expected me to be brave. Then he was gone.

Megs called to make plans. “What time are we leaving?”

“I’m not going.”

“What are you talking about?” she said. “Everyone goes to Career Day.”

“That’s the problem. The school will be too crowded. People in Portico have already gotten sick from the virus that’s going around. It’s too risky.”

“Come with me for a little while. Long enough to get the extra credit. You need to pull up your social studies grade, right?”

“My dad just left. I want to stay holed up in my room with a big bottle of antibacterial soap.”

“I know. But you could check in, volunteer for a while, then leave. No one will know if you cut your shift short. Come on, Lil.”

“I don’t know. . . .” But the combination of boredom, Megs’s begging, and my D in history finally convinced me. Dad had seen my grades, and with Mom on her way home, the academic clock was ticking. After breakfast, Megs and I walked to school together.

“Are you nervous?” she asked.

“A little anxious. Have you been following the news?”

“No. Most of my computer time has been spent with you-know-who. I really like him.”

“Do you even know his name?” I asked.

“The site rules were not to give names.”

“Since when do you follow the rules? Come on, Megs. You can’t truly know someone from chatting online.”

“You’re right. That’s why I’m going to meet him tonight.”

I halted immediately. “No way. He could be a murderer. Your mom’s a cop. You know the horror stories about these situations better than I do.”

“I have it all figured out,” she said. “We’re meeting at the coffee shop at six-thirty. It’s crowded then. I checked it out yesterday. He said he’d be carrying a certain book, that I’d know him when I saw it. He doesn’t know what I look like, so if it doesn’t feel right or if he seems like a creeper, I can walk out. No harm done.” She pulled at my arm to get me walking again. “Come on. We’ll be late.”

I moved reluctantly, not wanting to let the subject drop. “What if he’s ugly?”

She faked a punch to my arm. “His personality is totally hot. Maybe I can ask him to the Spring Formal.”

“Maybe,” I said, unconvinced. “But I think it’s a dumb idea. Do you want me to come with you?”

“That’s sweet,” she said. “But I’d rather go alone.”

We arrived at school and checked in at the volunteer table. By then, I was more worried about Megs than the flu. How could I persuade her not to meet this stranger? But we didn’t get to discuss it once we arrived. Megs was working refreshments and I’d been assigned as a wandering guide, handing out maps and giving directions.

I decided to give it fifteen minutes before I bailed. After grabbing a pile of handouts, I waited in the gym doorway where I was supposed to meet the previous shift. Inside the stuffy room, kids crushed together as they went from table to table. Principal Fryman wandered among the groups, most likely sharing his cliché-filled greetings.

I spotted Kayla talking to Jay. His back was to me, but she was all smiles and straight posture. I had witnessed her flirting enough to know that she was good at it. She seemed to strike the perfect balance of needy and independent that left guys defenseless.

She strolled away from him, moving in my direction. “Would you like a map?” she asked the girl in front of me.

It was the first time we’d been within speaking distance since that day in my room. I knew all about the high road and how I should have taken it instead of slapping her. I’d rehashed the situation a hundred times afterward. Deep down, I never felt entirely apologetic. I was mostly confused, hurt, and pissed off that my supposed friend would doubt me about something so serious. But sometimes remorse snuck in, like a sour candy mixed with a batch of sweet ones.

“Would you like a . . . oh, it’s you,” she said, noticing me.

“I’m the next shift.”

She handed me the remainder of her stack. “Good. I’ve got better places to be.”

“Kayla—”

She sauntered away.

I took a step after her, then stopped. Forget it. We hadn’t spoken in months. Now wasn’t the time to reconcile.

I needed to focus on getting through a few minutes of this sucky event. Once I was safely at home, I could analyze the Kayla situation while alphabetizing the disease-related books in Dad’s office. News stations were available 24/7 for my worrying pleasure. Or I could watch a movie, something stupid and light, wallowing in my solitude.

A tall guy standing next to me sneezed. I stood on the threshold to the gym, observing the throng, hearing the coughs, thinking about germs.

I couldn’t do it.

Who was I kidding? If there was some type of flu going around, I couldn’t immerse myself in a crowd of potentially contagious people, not even for fifteen minutes. My legs trembled as I scurried from the school with my head down. Sitting outside on the front bench, I took a few deep breaths, feeling better. Leaving was the safest course of action. I had abandoned the maps and was rushing across the parking lot to the smoking corner when Ethan intercepted me.

“Hey, Lil.”

He fell into step next to me.

“Hi.” I had an unlit cigarette ready in my hand and I couldn’t help twirling it nervously.

“I guess you don’t need the extra credit?”

“Um, I was keeping Megs company for awhile. I don’t really feel like staying.”

“It’s still hard for me to believe you smoke now.”

“Things change, right?”

“Maybe,” he said. “But not everything has to be different.”

We reached the oak tree and I lit up, exhaling loudly in protest.

“I’m glad I ran into you,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve wanted to talk to you. I think that I . . .” He pushed his bangs across his forehead. “I still miss the way things used to be. With us. Remember the park? That was one of the best times ever.”

Of course I remembered that day. We’d had an old-fashioned picnic by the pond, then took turns feeding each other a hot fudge sundae we’d gotten from the ice cream truck. We’d kissed for the rest of the afternoon, lying on the grass in the sun.

“I could spend forever like this,” he’d said, holding me close.

If I shut my eyes, I could almost feel his arms around me, his lips pressing on mine.

No. That was before. Now he stood across from me, watching me smoke, catching me off guard with this conversation. I tried to imagine what it would feel like to be together again. Familiar in a good way? Or awkward now that my secret had created an invisible wall between us?

“Look, I’m not saying we have to start going out again. But what if you came over? We could hang out, watch a movie. Maybe that mash-up of all the fairy tales. That’s it. No commitment.” He took a step closer, narrowing the space between us.

Please don’t kiss me.
I froze while he brushed a strand of hair gently away from my face, the way he’d done a million times before.

With that motion, the familiar gesture, my resolve weakened. “All right,” I whispered.

“Tonight then? Seven-ish?” he asked.

“Oh.” That was sooner than I expected. “Um, OK.”

“See you then.”

I wasn’t sure what I’d gotten myself into, but I didn’t see us living happily ever after.

I washed my hands as soon as I got home.

It was a quiet afternoon. Dad called to check on me, and I answered an email from Mom, telling her about stupid stuff like Career Day, but leaving out my plans with Ethan. After heating her gross lasagna for dinner, I changed into a nicer black shirt, one with lace sleeves.

I dreaded checking the local news, but felt compelled to know what was happening. One article online summed it up.

I thought about the stranger from town who died. Did she have a big family, lots of friends, maybe a boyfriend who would miss her? I imagined a whole existence for her that ended unexpectedly.

The news reinforced my desire to stay home, away from all possible germs. But canceling with Ethan would be awkward. I wasn’t sure if I looked forward to seeing him or not. It was hard to imagine snuggling with him on the couch the way we used to. Just the thought of physical contact made me fidget, so it took me twice as long to polish my nails with Licorice Heaven to match my clothes. They were reasonably dry when I got a text.

I found Megs surrounded by a dozen shirts heaped on her bedroom floor.

“What should I wear?” she asked. “I need something to go with my favorite jeans.” She plopped on her bed, face flushed.

I hesitated, torn between worrying about her safety and wanting to support her romantic longings. “You’re sure you want to go through with this?”

She nodded.

“Then don’t worry, we’ll find something. You have great clothes.” I glanced at her alarm clock. It was 6:15.

She followed my eyes. “I’ll be fashionably late.”

I pulled out a turquoise blouse that had fabric cutouts in the back.

“I need to look good from the front, not when I leave,” she said.

“Right.” I told her about Ethan while I searched her closet for something better.

“Are you sure you want to start with him again?” she asked.