Part 3 (1/2)

1 6 t h i n g s i t h o u g h t w e r e t r u e I apply ChapStick and check my phone. A new follower.

Normally that would make me more excited. The lights change and Adam speeds ahead, pulling into the hospital entrance.

”I'll drop you off at the emergency entrance and go and park this thing,” Adam tells me.

I nod, glad he came along. ”Thanks,” I manage, but it's barely above a whisper. I wonder if he knows how much I want to cling to him.

He smiles at me, as if he understands the things I'm not saying.

”When you walk inside, go straight past triage and take a right. Go down that hallway to the end and you'll find the information desk.

They can tell you where your mom is.”

How does he know this?

”I've volunteered here,” he says. He pulls up to the emergency entrance and stops the car. ”What's your mom's name? I'll park and come find you.”

I grab the door handle, almost reluctant to get out now that we're here. ”Maggie. Maggie MacLean.” I give him a last longing look, wis.h.i.+ng he could come with me and keep telling me what to do.

My heart races as I hurry into the emergency entrance. I glance around the packed room and automatically pull out my phone to text my brother, but a nurse yells at me to turn it off, pointing to a sign with a picture of a cell phone crossed out .

I hurry down the hall, find the information booth, and explain to the elderly woman perched on the seat that my mom's been brought in. She looks her up, tells me she's on the third floor, and then points me to the elevator.

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sixteenthings.indd 19 9/9/13 2:21 PM.

J a n e t G u r t l e r When I finally get to my mom's room, I find my brothers with their heads pressed close together. For the first time in a long time, I see how similar their faces are even though they're fraternal twins.

They look over, and their blue eyes open wider. Their worried expression is identical.

”What happened?” I ask.

”Jake brought her in,” Josh says, and their differences become apparent again. Josh is wearing a coat from some trendy store.

Sungla.s.ses are perched on top of his fluffy head of hair. Last November, he grew a mustache for Movember to raise money for cancer, and the fur on his lip seemed to awaken some latent hippy gene. He bought the muscle car in the new year and kept the mustache. He claims the girls love it, and he never seems to be without one on his arm. But that's been true since he was fifteen.

Jake is wearing old jeans and a plain T- s.h.i.+rt he probably picked up off the floor that morning. His shoes are plain white Vans but he colored them with Sharpies. He has mad drawing skills and tends to fall deeply in love with one girl at a time. I totally see him married with children running around his feet in a few years.

”I had to call an ambulance,” Jake says, ”since you had Josh's car.”

I grab his arm. ”What happened?” I repeat.

”It's her heart.” Jake scratches his closely shaved head. It's less a fas.h.i.+on statement and more because he hates hair product. The twins have thick, wavy hair, less curly than mine and much darker.

”I got home from lunch with my dad. Josh had a date. Mom was still home.” He glances around at the walls of the hospital. ”She

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sixteenthings.indd 20 9/9/13 2:21 PM.

1 6 t h i n g s i t h o u g h t w e r e t r u e was having pains in her chest. She was scared.” He glances at me.

”So I called 911.”

”She was supposed to be at work,” I say and it sounds stupid even as it leaves my mouth.

”She called in sick.”

I frown. She never calls in sick. ”Will she be okay?” The words tumble out in a rush.

”I don't know.” Josh, who is never afraid of anything, who is never at a loss for words, sounds like a scared little boy. ”They're running a bunch of tests. She's been complaining of being dizzy and short of breath for the past couple of weeks.”

”She has?” I look around, wondering why she never said anything to me. Aren't moms supposed to tell their daughters that stuff?

There are footsteps in the hallway behind us, and I turn and see Adam. He pushes his gla.s.ses up his nose, but his shoulders are pushed back. He walks with confidence. For a moment, I can imagine him in the future- in a white doctor's coat with a stethoscope around his neck, walking the halls, in charge. I blink and he's a teenager again.

”He's obviously with you,” Josh says, following my gaze.

I frown until I realize Adam's wearing a Tinkerpark employee s.h.i.+rt. ”My boss,” I mumble.

”How's your mom?” Adam says as he reaches us, and he stands beside me so we're in a semicircle in the narrow hospital hallway.

”It's her heart,” I say and shake my head. ”She's been dizzy and out of breath.” I'm still trying to make sense of it.

Adam nods. ”Have they done an angiogram?” he asks. I have no idea what he's talking about.

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sixteenthings.indd 21 9/9/13 2:21 PM.

J a n e t G u r t l e r ”To check for blockage,” he adds.