Understudy (24 page)

Authors: Denise Kim Wy

BOOK: Understudy

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Chapter Thirty

Kat

Eric woke up. The news felt like a ray of sunshine after a dark storm. I was never religious or anything, but I said silent prayer of thanks as Dr. Robbins told me that aside from a dislocated shoulder and some cuts and bruises, Eric was going to be fine. But I was not allowed to see him until his parents arrived.

Mr. Cromley had already come to pick Lily up, and I promised to call her as soon as Eric woke up. I was just about to pick up the phone when Eric's parents came out of the elevator. As soon as Mrs. Wharton saw me, I felt myself freeze.

I expected her to get mad at me, but she and her husband just went to Eric's room without confronting me. I didn't allow myself to relax just yet though.

I stayed in the waiting area, wondering if I'd even get to see him now that his parents had arrived. I knew that Mrs. Wharton blamed me for the accident, even without her saying it. And I wasn't sure if I really wanted to talk to Eric, not after I told him to leave me alone.

I buried my face in my hands as I weighed my options. I could just leave. It would be easier for both of us.

A gentle tap on my shoulder made me sit up, and I almost jumped in surprise to see Mr. Wharton looking down at me.

"Eric wants to see you," he said. It was probably the first conversation we’d had since Adam introduced me to his parents.

I was awash with embarrassment, followed by guilt. "I'm sorry−"

"No," Mr. Wharton said, waving me off. "We heard what happened. It's not your fault."

His eyes were fixed on me the whole time, and I realized that his eyebrows arched the same way as Adam's. "It's okay, he's waiting for you now," he said.

"But you just came in?"

"He specifically asked for you."

I pulled myself up and made my way towards Eric's room. I was half expecting Mrs. Wharton to stop me at the door, and I would have turned around without her saying a word. But the door was wide open.

Eric's eyes were closed when I came in, and a nurse stood beside his bed checking his IV drip. I was about to step out, thinking he was just given a sedative, but the nurse looked at me and motioned for me to take a seat on the opposite side of the bed. "He's awake," she said.

And as if to prove her point, Eric cracked his eyes open. "Hey," he croaked.

I stood next to his bed and examined him. His left arm was in a cast and there was a huge bandage across his forehead as well as some parts of his body. But it wasn't the extent of his injuries that made me gasp. It was what was underneath the blanket where his right leg should've been.

I slowly placed my hand over it, thinking it might be an illusion. But I ended up feeling the mattress underneath the blanket. I began to cry.

"Oh my god! Your leg..."

Eric tilted his head forward, making him wince. "Yeah, about that," he said, exhaling. "Guess Tiny Tim was more fortunate than me, huh?"

The fact that he could still joke about it made me want to punch his face. But my limbs felt like they were made of jelly and I found myself collapsing on to the chair. "I'm sorry," I said, and I flat out cried beside him.

Eric closed his eyes and shook his head. "No no. It's been gone a long time," he said. He tried to sit up, only to slump back on his bed and groan in agony.

"You shouldn't be moving around just yet," the nurse said. She took one last look at the devices beside the bed and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Eric took a deep breath and opened his eyes. "It's not what you think, okay?" He slowly raised his uninjured hand and pointed towards the end of the room.

On the floor, propped up on the wall, was a beaten-up prosthetic leg. It was folded in the middle in an unnatural way that made it look more like a scrap found in junkyards than a synthetic limb.

I returned my gaze to Eric, confused.

"That's my leg," he said.

When I didn't answer, he told me the story of how he lost his leg back when he and Adam were little.

Suddenly, everything started to make sense. I finally understood what Adam meant when he said that he owed Eric. It also explained why he didn't seem to be hurt when Reggie spilled coffee on his leg, or when he landed on it when he broke my fall back in the storage room. I also understood why he insisted on making his own props instead of being fitted for a leg brace. He didn't want anyone to know that he was wearing a prosthetic.

"Why didn't you tell us?" I asked.

"I was sick and tired of the way people were looking at me."

"Then why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't want you to think that I'm weak. That I needed any help."

And that was the final piece of the puzzle. Eric Charles Wharton was just another boy trying to piece himself together after being broken repeatedly. It made me feel bad for all the times I judged him without really looking beneath the hard mask he wore to hide his true self. And just when he decided to take off that mask and reveal himself to me, I tried to push him away.

I placed my hand over his, tracing his knuckles with my fingers. They were hard and rough, just like the persona he had created for himself.

"I'm sorry," Eric said after awhile.

"Sorry for what?"

"For calling you ridiculous, you know, for talking to Adam."

I shrugged. "It's okay."

"I talked to him, you know," Eric said. "I'm not really sure if it was a dream or something, but I did talk to him."

"What did he say?"

"That we should stop blaming ourselves."

Somehow, that made me laugh. "Yeah, he'd say something like that."

Eric nodded, wincing as he did.

I watched him for awhile, thinking I should probably let him rest. But I realized that I wanted to stay by his side a little longer. After all, I hadn't told him exactly what I came to tell him.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I know it's not enough, but I'm really sorry. I want to make it up to you."

Eric smiled.

It was totally unexpected, but I guess that's what made him different from Adam. He was spontaneous.

"Then would you do something for me?"

"Anything."

"Stop apologizing."

Epilogue

I had my haircut a week later. I didn’t really plan on it. I was on my way to visit Eric when I passed by a hair salon. Next thing I knew, I was sitting in front of the mirror watching as the hairdresser cut my shoulder length hair. And with every snip he took, it felt like a weight was being lifted from my shoulders. By the time it was done, I felt lighter. I felt like a new person.

Eric had just returned from therapy when I entered his room, and as soon as he saw me, his mouth hung open.

“Is it that bad?” I asked, touching the back of my head, feeling self-conscious.

“No, it’s…great. You look edgier,” he said. “I like it.”

***

The news of the accident spread around school fast, though the stories were much worse than reality. Eric was spared from hearing all of it since he was still in the hospital undergoing physical therapy for his new leg.

"So you pushed Eric in front of a huge delivery van?" Drake asked, as Sara and I were taking stuff from our lockers for our first period.

Sara turned to me, pouting her lips. "It's a delivery van now? I thought it was a bus."

"It's a train, dammit!" I said, and the three of us laughed as we came up with more silly things to run over Eric with.

I was starting to feel like my normal self again. I didn't have to pretend any more, not when Eric understood how I felt. I visited him after school, sometimes with Drake and Sara. She still claimed that she hated Eric's guts, but given time, I knew he'd grow on her, and it was all I need.

I still missed Adam. But I consoled myself to the fact that he was finally free. That wherever he may be, I knew he was happy. After all, I kept my promise of being nice to his brother.

Speaking of which, I had been meaning to do something I hadn't done before. The idea occurred to me while Eric and I were talking about how he or Adam used to ditch class by pretending to be the other twin. I felt a rush just thinking about it.

"So Eric is finally getting out of the hospital," I said.

"That's great," Drake said. "He can help us think of more ways on how you tried to kill him."

"I'm going to ditch class," I said.

Both Drake and Sara looked at me like I had totally gone bonkers. "What?"

"I'm going to ditch class," I repeated. I returned my books to my locker and slammed it shut.

"Just make an excuse for me," I told Sara, and I was gone.

***

Eric stood in front of Adam's grave with one arm over a crutch. He was wearing a blue sweater and a pair of colored jeans. His back was facing me, and I stood watching him for awhile.

It felt like he was having a private moment with his brother so I waited until he took a step back and wiped his eyes. After a moment, I walked towards him.

"Hey," I said.

Eric turned around, raising an eyebrow. "Hey! What are you doing here?"

"I ditched class."

"Why?"

"Because I can."

I wrapped an arm around his waist. I raised my head to kiss him and he kissed me back.

"I was just talking to him," he said.

"I hope you're not telling him those complicated medical stuff. It really gets a little boring, you know."

"Really? What shall I tell him then?" he asked, nuzzling my hair.

"How about playing a game?"

Eric raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A game?"

I nodded. "It's actually a game I've been playing with Sara and Drake."

"Oh, so you're having fun without me. Tell me more about this game."

"It's where we come up with ways I tried to kill you."

Eric tilted his head in amusement. "That sounds fun. Let's play."

The End

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I would like to thank my best friend, Glendale Ang for believing that I could finish this book after procrastinating for over a year. Also to Tahlia Meredith who patiently went through the whole manuscript and edited a lot of my errors, which made me cringe by the time I sat and worked on it. I owe you a lot!

I would also like to thank everyone who took time to review the book even before I published it. I love you guys!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Denise Kim Wy is a designer who also loves to write her own stories. Her favorite authors include Stephen Chbosky, Jane Austen and John Green, and she prefers reading tear-jerking novels that drive her nuts.

She is also a sucker for English period dramas and well designed furniture.

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http://www.denisewy.com

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