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Her eyes have gone a bit moony.
“I can’t help but feel like you’re really taking his side.”
She shrugs. “What can I say? I’m a big fan.”
I roll my eyes. “You too? Sheesh. What is it with Americans and football? Is it all that interesting?”
“Oh, I don’t even watch the sport. I just know him from when he was on the cover of People last year. Have you seen it? They did this whole spread where he was only wearing his football pants and nothing else.”
Her cheeks have flushed, and I swear she’s really heating herself up talking about it. Pretty soon the poor thing will need to go into the loo over there and splash some cold water on her face.
“Oh jeez. Sounds utterly ridiculous.” I roll my eyes. Then I lean in close. “Can you pull up the photos and show me?”I sigh into my mobile, antsy to end the conversation with my parents.
“I’m totally fine,” I assure Mum. “You don’t need to worry. They’re only keeping me here overnight to cover their bases.”
“Well that’s what it’s like being a proper celebrity.”
“Mum, I’m not a celebrity.”
“Say that to the press! You’ve been on the telly three times since I started watching this afternoon. They keep calling you the luckiest girl in New York or something like that. I taped one of the stories, but then your Dad mucked it up and rolled some Arsenal footage over it.”
“That’s okay. I don’t really need to see it. I’m living it.”
“Right, right. So you’re sure you’re all right? No permanent damage? While you’re in hospital, you ought to see if they can check your head, right in the back behind your ear. I dropped you when you were a baby and I’m still a bit concerned I might have done some real damage.”
“Mum, I’m sure I’m just fine. And if I’m not, I’ve lasted this long, so there’s no sense in worrying.”
“Right. Well, I won’t keep you. Give Logan our love, dear.”
“Will do. Love you, Mum. Talk soon.”
After I hang up, I realize I didn’t correct her about giving Logan her love. It’s not really something I can do now, not after shouting at him like I did earlier. All afternoon, I’ve wavered back and forth between feeling as though this is all his fault and he should bloody well be sorry for the damage he’s caused then berating myself for taking things too far. I really did think he was going to break it off with me. He looked like men do right before they lay down the death blow to a relationship, all guilty and sad.
Bollocks!
I turn back to the food tray they brought up a little while ago. There’s a sandwich, a salad, an apple, and an empty chocolate pudding cup. I ignored most everything and devoured the pudding. When I was finished, I had my nurse—she’s called Jada and I think we’re proper friends now—sneak me up a second one. Then we looked at a few images of Logan from the People magazine shoot and I nearly foamed at the mouth. I mean, I knew he was hot—I did have him naked on top of me just this morning—but I mean, holy moly, someone grab me an ice pack so I can shove it down my gown. They’ve really turned him into a heartthrob, haven’t they?
“Is he good in bed?” Jada asked.
I sighed. “Brilliant, unfortunately. It’ll make this whole breakup business even worse, I fear. How am I meant to go from that”—I pointed at the image of Logan on her screen—“to a normal bloke off the street? It’s not fair, is it?”
“Exactly. I think you should try to make it work. If not for your sake, then for mine. Please, girl, I need to live vicariously through you.”
I’ve been thinking about what she said since she left, and I know I’ve got to do something. But first, I have other important things to manage. It’s past suppertime now and I still haven’t phoned Yasmine and Kat. I don’t want to worry them, but sooner or later, I’ll have to let them know what’s happened.
I already phoned Mrs. Halliday to let her know I’ll be out tomorrow. She made a big fuss and told me to stay out the first half of the week, just to ensure I’m really taking care of myself. It’s a relief; at least I don’t have to worry about my job at The Day School on top of everything else.
The door to my room opens, and I’m expecting Jada (though I’m secretly praying it’s Logan), but then there’s a blur of balloons and teddy bears and my two flatmates blubbering on about how worried they’ve been about me.
“Yaz! Get out of my way. You’re hogging the doorway.”
“It’s the balloons.”
It’s quite a struggle for them to get inside, and they sort of fall in together like a comic duo. Then they look up and see me in bed, and their eyes go wide in fear.
