16 Things I Thought were True Part 7

"Are they going to do the angiogram through her arm vein?"

Adam leans against the other side of the counter, watching as I go through the motions of opening.

"Ugh. I have no idea." The thought of anything going through my mom's arm to get to her heart turns my stomach "You know what they do? With an angiogram?" he asks.

"Well, she mentioned the dye, but I'm not sure really." I grab a feather duster from under the counter and run it over the gla.s.s case that holds crystal toys and other Tinkerpark souvenirs.

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J a n e t G u r t l e r "They inject a dye to flow through her veins. It checks for block- ages, like blood clots or thinning."

I stop what I'm doing and stare at him.

"I read up on the procedure last night," he says. "She won't even be put under anesthesia. It's not risky. The worst thing that can happen is usually an allergic reaction to dye."

I feel a little guilty for not doing more research myself.

Adam continues, "If they do find something, they can deal with it right away."

"I don't know if I want the details. I just want her to get better."

I glance out the window to the clouds in the sky. They're getting darker and moving closer. It probably won't be busy at Tinkerpark.

"I guess you don't have a future in medicine."

"Not unless I become a drug addict."

He turns around and smiles, and it s.h.i.+nes from the inside out.

"Why do you want to be a doctor?" I ask.

"Truthfully? I got hooked on Grey's Anatomy when I was a kid."

I'm at the cash register now and press b.u.t.tons in a memorized sequence, and it opens. "You're joking, right?"

"No. Seriously. I had the same science teacher in my freshman and soph.o.m.ore year. Mr. Stade. He was hooked on Grey's like me,"

Adam says. "Before cla.s.ses, we'd talk about the medical stuff after every episode, whether they got it right or not. He took premed courses in college but switched to education. He's the one who encouraged me to think about a career in medicine."

I lean back against the counter, watching him. "Really? A teacher talked to you about stuff like that?"

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1 6 t h i n g s i t h o u g h t w e r e t r u e "Teachers love me." He smiles, but it's fake, and he stares out the window.

My teachers never really encouraged me to do anything except hand in homework on time. I'm pretty sure most of them didn't even remember my name. Well, that's not true. I'm sure they know my name now.

"So. You're okay with blood?" I ask. "Cutting into flesh with a sharp knife? Pulling out organs with your hands?" I wrinkle up my nose and cringe. I've seen Grey's Anatomy, but I watched to see who was hooking up, not for the graphic stuff.

He nods. "I rock at dissections. You should see my mad skills taking apart frogs. And pig hearts."

I pretend to gag.

"Dissection is not for everyone."

He glances out the window again. "Here comes Theresa with your cash drawer."

I look up, almost sad she's coming to interrupt this. She walks inside the gift shop, holding the steel cash drawer in the air.

"Dissections? That's what we're talking about this morning?" She walks toward the cash register. "Hey, Morgan."

We perform the morning ritual of counting bills and coins as we place them in the till. When we're done, she shuts the cash drawer and looks at Adam. He's still by the window, but he's watching us.

"You done your opening?" she asks.

He shakes his head. "I'll be in the office in a sec. I'm talking to Morgan about something."

"Dissection?" She glances back and forth at each of us, raises her

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J a n e t G u r t l e r eyebrows, and then shrugs. "Okay. But hurry up," she says and stares at me for a moment and then leaves.

Adam walks to the front of the cash counter. He leans forward on his elbows, watching me. I grab a cloth and start wiping things down and glance at the clock. Ten minutes until the park opens. I want my phone now.

"So what about you?" he asks.

I glance over my shoulder, frowning. "What about me?"

"What are you going to do?"

I turn my body away and wipe a counter I've already wiped.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean do you have a college you're dying to get into? Or are you going to go to take a year off and travel? Or get a job." He laughs. "I mean a real one. After high school."

"I'm thinking of taking child psychology or something. We'll see."

I wonder if he knows about the insurance coverage, if he knows I've been thinking about giving my mom my savings. "What about you?" I ask not wanting to dwell on me. "What school do you want to get into?"

"The University of Was.h.i.+ngton has a solid med school and seems the most doable. Columbia or Stanford are out of my price range."

He shrugs.

"I'd love to leave Was.h.i.+ngton," I say with far too much pa.s.sion and then scrub the already- clean counter even harder. "Go far away where no one knows me."

"Run away?" he asks softly.

I stop wiping and close my eyes, glad I'm not facing him. I have

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1 6 t h i n g s i t h o u g h t w e r e t r u e no idea why I said that out loud and wish I could s.n.a.t.c.h my words back. "You know, don't you? About the video? You probably saw it?" I wait, gripping the cloth in my hand.

"I heard about it." He clears his throat. "I never watched it."

I breathe out and slowly turn. "Then you're one of a few people at this park, heck, probably one of the few people in Tadita who hasn't."

He takes his elbows off the counter and stands straight.

"I don't want to talk about it." I bite my lip and glance purposely at the clock on the wall. He should be going back to the office now.

"You didn't post it. Did you?" His voice is low.

I bend my head and swallow and pick at imaginary fuzz on my T- s.h.i.+rt. It's the truth. I didn't post the video. But that's not the whole story. And it still haunts me. "It was my best friend." My voice breaks and I take a big gulp of air. "She did it without telling me."

We're both quiet. I can't look up. I don't want him to know the whole truth. I don't want anyone to know.

"Some friend," Adam says. "I'm sorry."

"I don't need anyone feeling sorry for me," I say softly and go after another surface with my cloth.

"Maybe you do. Need people, I mean," he says softly.

I look him in the eye then. "Every person I know has seen me in my underwear."

"I'm sure that's not such a bad thing," he says gently, as if he's trying to tease me.

"Morgan?"

I turn to see Amy standing in the door of the gift shop. She has

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J a n e t G u r t l e r on a pair of fingerless gloves and a long- sleeve striped s.h.i.+rt under her Tinkerpark T- s.h.i.+rt. I have an urge to run over and hug her for ending this conversation. "Are you two talking about your video?"

"Not anymore," I say quickly.

Adam smiles. "Hey, Amy."

"Hi!" She grins. "Are you being nice to me now?"

"Of course he is," I say. "Adam was telling me how bad he felt about yelling at you." I have the secret knowledge now that he's not as mean as he pretends to be.

He narrows his eyes but doesn't bust me.

"I was hoping we could be friends." Amy totally misses the non- verbal conversation between Adam and me. "I feel really bad about eating that popcorn. Maybe we could hang out sometime? If you want? If you're not still mad?" She glances at me and then back at Adam. "All three of us!" Amy takes a breath. "So did you want to?

Hang out, I mean?"

"Adam has a girlfriend, Amy," I say to spare her feelings.

I glance at Adam, and his cheeks are red.

"He does? I mean, you do?" She tilts her head and studies him.

"I didn't mean it like a date. I'm over that. I never thought tiny women and tall men belonged together. It looks awkward. And I hate heels." She turns to me. "Where did you take off to yesterday?