“You are so lucky!” Hanna squealed, then clapped her mouth shut. Had she just said a burn victim was lucky?
A bell rang out in the corridor, and then a voice came over the PA paging one of the doctors. “What’s your name?” the girl asked. “I’ve never seen you before—and I would remember you. You’re the coolest volunteer we’ve ever had.”
“Thanks,” Hanna said softly. “I’m Hanna.”
“I’m Kyla Kennedy. Maybe when I bust out of here, we can hang for real.”
Hanna raised an eyebrow. “Bust out of here?”
“Oh yeah.” Kyla’s tone was playful. “I have a whole black-ops mission in mind. I’m going to break out when no one’s watching and take the world by storm.”
She reached out her bandaged hand. Hanna tentatively shook it, then peeked at Kyla’s face again. She could see long lashes beneath the gauze, but she couldn’t even tell what color her eyes were. Yet she loved that Kyla said she was cool. After a moment, she realized that she thought Kyla was cool, too.
“Hanna?” Sean appeared at the end of the corridor. “There’s a spill in the next hall over. Can you take care of it?”
Hanna sighed heavily. “I’d better go,” she said to Kyla.
“No worries,” Kyla said. Her bandaged hand clunked against Hanna’s wrist. “See you again, hopefully?”
“Definitely,” Hanna said.
She was a few paces away when Kyla called out her name again. Hanna turned around. Kyla was sitting up halfway in bed, pointing wildly at the shaved-head, hot-body male nurse. She pretended to smack his butt as he passed. Hanna laughed so loud that an old lady lying on a cot down the hall squealed and jumped. Hanna and Kyla exchanged a meaningful glance—well, as meaningful as Hanna could give Kyla under all that gauze. And then they started laughing even harder.
15
Up the Creek Without a Paddle
The next afternoon, Emily pulled into the main drive of the King James Mall, her heart thundering. When she first scanned the impressive entrance doors, she didn’t see Iris waiting inside, like they’d planned.
She dug her fingernails into the steering wheel. Of course Iris wasn’t there. What idiot would leave a mental patient at the mall all day? But because Emily didn’t want to miss any more school, she’d struck a deal with Iris that morning: She’d drop her off at the King James before first period, Iris would spend the day doing whatever she pleased, and Emily would pick her up after the last bell. Then they’d knock a few more items off Iris’s bucket list, and Iris would give Emily an Ali tidbit at the end of the day. Hopefully.
It took Iris no time to agree. After Emily dropped her off, she realized why: The Greyhound bus station was right down the street. Iris had probably planned to take off the second Emily pulled away. Emily had been her way out of The Preserve, but Iris didn’t need her anymore.
She idled at the curb, her stomach in knots. No one was sitting on the benches outside the entrance. No one lurked near the metallic ashtrays. But then the double doors opened, and someone stepped onto the pavement. After the sun glare subsided, Iris shimmered into view. Emily rolled down the window. “You’re here!”
Iris gave her a strange look. “Where else would I be?”
Emily unlocked the car doors, and Iris climbed inside. Once they were on their way, Emily glanced at the Bloomingdale’s carrier bag in Iris’s arms. “You went shopping?”
“Sort of,” Iris sang. She tossed something in Emily’s face. “For you.”
Emily stared at the plaid scarf in her lap. It had a Burberry label. “Is this real?”
“I hope so,” Iris said. “I got your mom one, too.”
“Iris . . .” Emily trailed off. She’d always wanted a Burberry scarf . . . but not a stolen one. Still, she was oddly touched that Iris had thought of her. And her mom.
“The light’s green,” Iris said loudly. “Turn left here.”
Emily turned on her signal. They were driving in the direction of Delaware. She glanced sidelong at Iris. “Where are we going, anyway?”
“To Keppler Creek,” Iris answered. “I want to take out a paddleboat.”
Emily rolled to a stop at another light. “I don’t think the boats are open for the season yet.”
Iris scoffed. “So we steal one.”
Emily looked at her hard. “I’m not stealing a paddleboat.”
Iris gave her a warning stare. “Come on. And besides, we’re not stealing it—just borrowing it for a little bit.”
Emily felt a pang of longing. She and Jordan had borrowed a beautiful glass-bottomed boat in Puerto Rico—and it had been easy, for Jordan at least. They’d had their first kiss out on the water. It was the most public kiss Emily had ever had with a girl—there were tons of other sailboats, Jet Skis, and party ships nearby, with many people on board—and yet she hadn’t felt uncomfortable in the slightest. She missed Jordan so much she’d taken to sleeping in one of the T-shirts that she’d let her borrow for the cruise. If Emily breathed in hard enough, she could still smell Jordan’s jasmine perfume.
She must have sighed dreamily, because Iris giggled. “Who are you thinking about? A girl?”
“No,” Emily said quickly.
Iris crossed her arms over her chest. “You can tell me. I’m not gonna judge you.”
Emily felt her cheeks flush. “Fine. I was thinking about this girl I met a few weeks ago.”