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“That was fast,” she said in an almost too bright tone. “I thought it might take you a little longer.”
“Finals week,” I told her. “I’m almost done.”
“Oh, honey, then go focus on your—”
“Jackie,” I said, trying to quell the sinking feeling in my stomach and the hard slap of my heart that seemed too damn loud. “Tell me.”
It was bad news.
Her soft sigh shredded me. “The chemo isn’t working. They want to try another cocktail, but she’s got to get stronger again and right now…”
Heat burned in my eyes. It isn’t working. They want to try another. The last couple of rounds had taken a lot of out of Pen. They were worried about the weight loss. She also had a cold. She was back in the hospital.
I angled away from the buildings as Jackie went over everything the doctors said. I didn’t care about the hair plastering to my scalp or the rain soaking through my shirt.
“So,” Jackie said. “This is where we are. Bronson’s already been tested. He’s not a match. But you need to be tested next.”
“I’ll do it as soon as I’m there. Have we checked everyone else?”
“Only Trace is older than you and Bronson. He’s not taking calls. Or at least, he isn’t taking mine. Everyone else is too young for this, at least right now. We’ll just cross the bridge when we come to it.”
Trace didn’t take a lot of people’s calls. “I’ll call him. We don’t talk as much, but he usually takes my calls. Can you see who I need to talk to about booking the appointment and what I need to do?”
I checked my watch, the pain clogging my throat made it hard to even talk. “My final exam is the day after tomorrow. I’ll get flights booked for that evening.” I didn’t need to be here for graduation. The grand experiment had been a grand fucking flop. “I’ll get there as soon as I can. Fuck, I can just blow off the last test and come now.”
“You will not,” Jackie said firmly. “You will finish the last exam, take a beat, catch your breath, then come home. Even if you got here tomorrow morning and tested as a match, it could be a week or two before they would even move on it.”
Oh.
“Sweetheart, I know you’re scared. We all are. Bronson’s furious he isn’t a match. But this isn’t anything either of you can control. Penelope is in excellent hands right now, I promise. You’ll see that for yourself soon.”
I swiped a hand over my face, the water soaking it. My eyes burned so badly. “Jackie…”
“I know,” she said with a soft hum. “I know. We’re doing everything we can. You’ll be here soon. Can you hold on for a little bit longer?”
Did I have a choice?
I swiped at the tears again. It didn’t seem to matter. The rain, the tears—the world wavered around me.
“I can,” I said, swallowing hard. “I will…I’ll call you when I have the flights booked.”
We didn’t talk for much longer. When we hung up, I just sat down on the steps and stared at the puddles as they jumped and rippled while the rain struck them.
It wasn’t fucking fair.
It just wasn’t.
Forty-Three
RAMSEY
Finals week was a slice of heaven and hell. As a TA, all I had to do was proctor the exams while keeping an eye on floundering students who might potentially be in danger of harming themselves. It had happened. The exclusivity of the school increased the pressure from the administration, the faculty, and then there were the parents.
As an RA, I had to keep the dorm on target. Curfews were suspended and all-nighters were commonplace. I split my sleep schedule so I could do random checks. My door was always open to students, too. While I had my own exams, I’d made sure to take as many early as I could to free me up for this week.
The week’s stressors got to everyone, apparently, even to Lachlan who had spent the last three weeks fucking moping and making me crazy. Before I headed to the gym, I told him to take Jonas out to dinner or a movie or something. Just get him off campus for a break.
“Why?” Lachlan demanded. “He barely speaks to me on a good day lately. And since the Fire and Ice Dance, he’s been in a shit mood.”
