The Last Dance by Kiki Hamilton Read Free Book Online

was only a few minutes later when he pushed off the railing and nudged CJ.
    “Well, we better hit the road, bro. They told us not to stay in here too long and interrupt your beauty sleep.” A wave of relief washed over me. I was exhausted just trying to hide how fucked up I was. “We wanted to check in and let you know we’re here for you, buddy.” He put his hand on my leg and patted my left knee, his skin dark against the white of the hospital sheets. His voice got soft. “Hang in there, man.”
    “Yeah, let us know if you need anything, Kell,” CJ added. “I mean, anything .” His voice wavered and he sort of looked like he was trying not to cry.
    “Thanks.” The word came out garbled, but I’m pretty sure they understood me.
    Ollie raised his hand as they walked out the door, then flipped it to a thumbs up. “We’ll see you soon.”
    I returned the thumbs up with my left hand. Once they were out the door I turned to stare out the windows at my elevated view of a nearby forest. My hospital room was high enough that I could see over the tops of the trees, like a bird in flight. But the reality was I couldn’t even walk on my own two feet. I blinked against the sudden pressure in my eyes. Ollie and CJ’s visit reminded me of the one thing I’d tried not to think about: I hadn’t heard from Laurel.

Chapter Nine
    Ivy
    M ira rushed up to me in the school hallway, her eyes wide with excitement. There was a hot pink streak through the blonde hair that swept across her forehead that matched the hot pink dotted mini and black fishnet leggings she was wearing—complete with hot pink boots. I was in skinny leg jeans, black boots and a black shirt. Somebody had to balance her flamboyance.
    “Ivy—” she clutched at my arm, her hands encased in hot-pink fingerless gloves— “did you hear that Kellen Peterson got out of the hospital?”
    I kept walking. There was barely enough time to navigate the crowded halls of Griffin High and get to my fourth period orchestra class within the four minutes they allotted us. I definitely didn’t have time to stop and chat.
    “The quarterback?” I didn’t dare make fun of him now. My crack about Q the quadriplegic still rang in my ears with an uncomfortable resonance, because from everything I’d heard, the dude was seriously messed up.
    “Of course.” Mira hurried along with me. “How many Kellen Petersons do you think go to this school?”
    Before Kellen’s accident I hadn’t really given the star quarterback much thought other than to listen to Mira prattle on about him. But now, it was pretty gut-wrenching what had happened to the guy.
    We were both seniors. He was in my AP English class. Eight months and seventeen days and we were all out of here. I was bound for college—if my parent’s got their wish it would be either Stanford, Harvard or Yale. That is, if I survived playing Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 5 in D Major next weekend as the showcase piece of our Fall symphony concert. I wondered what the future held for him now.
    “Q was in a coma for a week after the game.”
    Mira knew I was not a fan of football. In my opinion, it was a stupid game where the main goal seemed to be to try and hurt the other player. I knew about Q’s condition because that was all Mira and anybody else had talked about for days after the game.
    Mira adjusted the black sparkly messenger bag slung across her shoulder she used as a backpack. “They wouldn’t let anybody see him. They had to drill a hole in his head to let off the pressure. I heard they think he had a mini-stroke.”
    I flicked my long bangs to one side so I could get a better look at her face. “The way you keep track of him and talk about him all the time, you’d think you were his girlfriend.” I nudged her with my elbow, trying to get her to look at me. “Don’t you think you should leave it to his real girlfriend?”
    Mira averted her eyes. “His real girlfriend is a bitch.”
    I frowned. Mira