You went unconscious and your friends called 911. By the time the ambulance got there you were in cardiac arrest.”
“The policeman walked over to the bed, “Did anyone give you a drink, offer you a drink or was interested in what you were drinking?”
“Why?’ I asked. “What will happen?”
“They get arrested. It’s a felony.”
I started to think about what had happened. “I don’t know. I’ll try to think about it.”
He handed Mom his card, “Call me if she can think of anyone. We have questioned everyone at the party. No one saw a thing.”
My head was killing me and I felt like I was going to throw up at any second.
The next two days were a blur. All I could remember was the party Friday night and I wasn’t released until early Sunday evening . I didn’t even remember leaving the hospital . I just knew I was home and I wanted to see Michael.
I thought I had a dream he was with me , but found out later he had been at the hospital and had come to the house . I was so exhausted. Every time I woke up, someone was asking me who could have done it. I tried to think about the night. It was all fuzzy but I remembered certain things. I didn’t want to say who it was and be wrong. I just didn’t know what to do or think.
I rolled over feeling my back hurt. I decided I needed to get up. I walked into the kitchen and saw Michael sitting at the table with my dad playing cards.
“Hey,” I smiled. “When did you get here?”
“I’ve been here all day. Just hangin’ out, waiting for sleeping beauty to get up.”
“I guess she needed a kiss.”
I looked at my Dad, seeing if there was a reaction and didn’t see one.
My dad stood up, “I’m going to the other room. Good night, Michael.”
“What are we playing?” I asked.
“Go fish,” he smiled.
“I miss you,” I smiled, dieing to lean over and kiss him.
“Me more,” he winked, placing his hand on mine. He suddenly pulled my cards down so he could see them. “Oh! I cheat at games.”
We started playing poker but I couldn’t concentrate. I was so tired and hungry.
“You suck at cards,” he finally said. “And don’t blame it on being sick, you just suck in general.”
I started laughing.
“Oh,” he said , walking over to the microwave, “you’re mom left you some soup. You feel like eating?” He asked, setting it in front of me.
“ Where’s Mom?” I asked my dad as he walked through the kitchen.
“She went over to Abbie ’s house. I guess her parents are freaking out that we are going to sue them for what happened. She went over to reassure them that we aren’t.”
“I’d love to go on Judge Judy,” I whined. “Oh she would have a field day with us. The second I see someone from Missouri go on there, I think snap, they are guilty.”
“Its small claims,” Michael corrected, “No guilty or not guilty.”
“Oh , she decides guilt. Trust me.”
“Can we go in my room?” I asked my dad, after I ate.
He looked at me and then Michael. I wanted to say Rachel always has boys in her room, but chose to just drop it.
“I’m tired. I just want to lie down.”
“I guess,” he said. “Door stays open.”
We went into my room and I turned on the TV. I lay down on the bed and patted it for him to join me.
“I better just sit” he smiled.
“What do you want to watch?” I asked, flipping through the channels.
“Anything is fine,” he sat down at the head of the bed.
“Basketball reruns on ESPN classic?” I asked, stopping on the channel.
“We don’t have to watch basketball.”
“I love basketball!” I moved over and laid my head on his lap.
“Right,” he said sarcastically. I could feel his hand starting to stroke my hair.
“Test me,” I rolled on my back looking up at him.
“What do you mean?”
“Any player and I’ll tell you the team and his number.”
“Forget you, ” he laughed. “ Seriously?” He sounded extremely curious. “Marcus
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
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