This smaller chapter--well, smaller for EE--felt ready to go. So since it'd been a while, I decided to set it free. It sets the stage for a few things to come. And of course, we haven't heard from Wyatt in a while, so...you're welcome! JUST kidding. The song doesn't fit exactly, but it's a song about asking heaven to wait a little longer, which works well for one scene for sure. So...here we go! One more step toward "The End."

She said, "I just...I heard that you'd...had some trouble..."

It was Wyatt, finally calling me directly. And sounding sort of like she wasn't sure she should have. But they'd given me so much stuff to keep me from moving around and causing any more craziness that I almost couldn't answer. And I had to.

I haven't said a lot about her because I've been whining about my friggin' injuries and whatnot and I figure you're about done with me by now. But every day, almost all day, I thought about her. I could feel her there sometimes, like she was right next to me or maybe was thinking about me, too.

But then it would go away, and I'd feel just...normal again. And it sucked. I mean, I'm not in love with love, okay? Addicted to the idea, more than the person. But it's such a high that when it starts to go away, it's a real let down. And she'd pop into my mind, and the craving would come back...you've been there. Everybody has.

So I eased myself up on one elbow and then realized that was the wrong thing to do, because it hurt like a bitch and also I could feel the dressing they'd just put on sort of tugging at my skin and I did not want another tongue lashing. Let me tell you about that, and then we'll get into Wyatt and me talking, I promise.

See, the real young doctor who did the last surgery, Connor Martin's his cool as hell name, gave me the only serious lecture I ever got at that hospital. From the heart, too, so I felt it in the same place and was sincerely sorry. And scared.

After they'd scanned me to make sure I hadn't messed up anything, he came in and shut the door-always a bad sign.

And then he pulled up a chair, looked me dead in the eyes and said, "You love your kids, right?"

And I said, "Look, I know I--"

"Just answer the question. You love 'em more than anything, right?"

I nodded and shrugged and said, "Yeah. I do. I love 'em ike crazy."

And he folded his arms and sighed real loud, like you do when a kid has done something really stupid, but you want to let them know you love them before you tear them a new one.

"I get that. We all do. But dammit, if you get another infection in there, which you could, and it goes to your spinal cord, which it could, it's game over, okay? The tissue's all raw in there right now-wide open to all kinda nasty stuff. You could wind up with permanent injuries or even paralysis, dude. And they're not gonna give you your kids if you're stuck in here or rehab for God knows how long, are they?"

I was about to try to apologize and explain that I would've probably worried myself sicker if I hadn't gone to that meeting. But a nurse was slipping me some knock out juice in one of the tubes running into my arm, so before I could think of the right words, I konked out. I guess that was his way of making sure I didn't move around too much or run off again or something-too bad real parents can't do that shit. But then if they could, kids'd probably spend half their childhoods unconscious or nodding out like little junkies all the time.

But I heard that cell phone though-Wyatt's ring. I'd picked this stupid, frilly little song from the list of them built into the thing, because it sounded feminine or something. Most of my close friends had real .mp3 clips, Dubstep, R & B, Funk, something that sounded like them. I hadn't had a chance to run Wyatt through my music memory bank yet. We'd hit the ground running, her and me.

But in a way, it was a good thing, because it was such an annoying noise that I came back to the surface as soon as I heard it. In fact, I had the cell in my hand before I even realized I'd reached for it. So she heard that I'd at least picked up. How to answer was the problem.

I must've said something halfway intelligent because she said that first line I gave you. About the "trouble" I'd had.

So I sank back down on the pillows and said, "Wasn't serious. Looked serious."

"Yes, that's what I heard," she said. She sounded worried. Bless her. "You were bleeding."

"Scanned it, though. Nothin's busted or anything," I said. "It's gonna drain like that, I guess. They change the dressing a lot. I think there's, like...something in the incision that lets that stuff come out, but I let it get all saturated like a sponge when it's all fulla water, you know? So it just...it got on my shirt'n'...Chase's hand..."

She laughed that little laugh that makes me go all muddle headed all the time. She even laughs more intelligently than most people. No, really, it just sounds different. I can't explain it. Classy. Cool. No giggling from this one. Ever. She's got a girlish side, but even that sounds different. She's not playing a role or trying to charm you. She's all the way real, all the time.

I would've given my life to see her do it, too. And then I actually looked at the cell to see if maybe I could see her. But it was just audio.

So I said what I felt. I was too high to be smooth.

"I wish I could see you. I really miss you."

And she said, "Moi aussi, mon coeur..." Which is "Me, too, my heart" sort of, in French. Hit me like a shot of something sweet and strong. Better than whatever else they had me on.

But it almost made me cry, too. I fought it, though.

And she said, "It's just so..."

"What?"

She sighed and said, "I just want you to be well and happy and to have those babies home soon-have you heard anything at all?"

"I haven't. But they may have talked to Chase or something."

"You mustn't...please just think about them, okay? You have to get out of there. That's all that matters right now. Your health is the last thing they can use against you. Everything else has been taken away. Your judge made it public. It's front page news. And it gives them an easy out. They can say he manipulated them the way he manipulated all the others and that'll be that."

She sounded all proud then. Like we'd licked 'em good. I loved that, too.

I said, "Listen to you! All badass."

There was another little laugh that made my heart ache. And then she said, "Only good things should happen to you..."

It was such an odd thing to say.

So I said, "You happened to me. That's the best yet. I mean...well, you know what I mean."

"But those children are all you should think about," she said. "That's what I mean. They've been through hell over the past few weeks. We can't know whether they understood any of it or whether it will affect them in any lasting way, but you are their safe haven. You're the rock everyone stands on. Think about that, okay? Nothing but that."

"Easier said than done."

She said, "I know," like she really did. And then she repeated it a little stronger, and then said, "But...in spite of...all the awful things their mother pumped into those little bodies, they lived for you. Probably because of you. Because you were there. So you have to be there for them again now. You have to give them every ounce of energy you can find. And there isn't much, I know. Which is why you can't waste it-"

"On you? Is that what you're saying?"

There was this long silence that I didn't like at all. And then she said, "Not quite that. Not-"

"Then what?" I said.

"I just want you to get better," she said. "That's all I want. That's all they need. Let everything else just...wait. Set everything else aside. It'll be there. What's meant to be."

I was sorry I'd answered the phone by then. I mean, she wasn't actually telling me we were over. Not point blank. But there was something weird around the edges.

I said, "Whatever you're up to, let that wait, too. Til I can fight back."

I heard some voices then, and her saying, "Yes, I saw that. You might want-no wait. Leave it here and you can come get it after sixth period. Good?"

Kids, I thought. Sounded like kids-girls. And when she came back, she said, "There's a senior meeting today. After school. It's that time again! Gowns, pictures, invitations-"

I thought about the skeleton girl I'd met on the steps, and said, "Prom?"

"And that, yes. In a month or so I think."

"Can kids bring, like...outside people? Dates, I mean."

"I'm really not sure they would allow it. For security reasons."

"Yeah, I kinda thought not."

She got this little teasing tone in her voice when she asked, "Who's the lucky girl?"

"Quit messin' with me, okay? She's got, like...a few weeks tops."

"To live?" She sounded genuinely concerned then, of course.

So I said, "Sucks, doesn't it? I heard her talkin' about alla high school type things she didn't get to do one time. And I thought-"

"There! That's the boy we need! Put that boy in charge of getting you well enough to take her."

"Slick," I said.

And then that damned hoot owl sounding bell thing went off in the background. I wanted to go shoot that thing off the wall.

But she said, "We'll talk again soon. But remember what I said," and hung up before I could argue or ask any more questions.

And a nurse came in looking all pissed.

"You are on the phone," she said. "Your lawyer needs to speak to you. Five minutes! He promised. And then no more, okay?"

But I had something to ask her. I said, "There's this girl-I met 'er when I-"

"I know who you mean. She told everyone in the hospital."

"Yeah, her. Skin and bones, right? Like, super sick?"

"She's...well, not good. I mean, she's going."

I just fell back and said, "Wow." And then, "You wouldn't, like...I mean, in a wheelchair or something, could I-"

"She wouldn't even know you were there."

"How do you know?"

She smiled then, that crazy nurse, and said, "This in' Sleeping Beauty, kiddo. She's not comin' back even for you."

"Quit it. I just thought maybe I should pay my respects."

She gave me this glare. But a guy arrived a few minutes later and I was ready for him, for sure. Chase had told me we had a court date in four days and I was happy and scared, both, so I needed something to distract me.

And she definitely did, that poor girl. She only had a mother and a brother who looked like a skinhead or something. And also some 'way older woman who looked almost as worn out as she was was sleeping in a chair by the windows. But her mother was sitting there holding her skeleton fingers real tight like maybe she was trying to squeeze some life back into her.

The brother gave me a frown but didn't say anything. The mother looked up and then just looked back at her.

"Heard about you," she said. But her voice was dead.

I had the guy wheel me over to the other side because when I tried to do it, it made my back throb. She was doing that thing they do, when they're really going to die. I don't know why, but their mouths always flop wide open-I guess it's hard to breathe or maybe the muscles just can't old their lips shut anymore.

But anyway, I've learned from going to see friends who'd messed themselves up one way or another over the years that once they get like that, they don't come out of it. They're more over on the other side than in this world here, by then.

But I touched her bony shoulder anyway. Put my hand there and squeezed real gentle.

And I said, "You gonna make me have to find a new prom date? That's not fair."

And damn that girl, she let this one little tear slide down and I felt like shit for saying it. Only then, she sort of turned her head. And I knew she could see me. And also, I knew she was smiling. Not with that mouth that she couldn't work. Just there was something in the eyes.

So I said, "I'll get that dance yet. It'll just have to wait a while, right?"

The light sort of flickered a bit, in those eyes. So I just said, "I'll see you later on, sweetheart..."

And then I had the guy wheel me out. She died at around three in the morning, they told me, the next day. They said her mother walked out of there like she was mad at the world and didn't answer calls for a few hours. But the funeral home came and got her.

I hoped her mother would act right from then on. And I sent her all kinds of flowers, of course. To the funeral home. Real girly pink things with ribbons and whatnot. And a corsage, too. Prom, you know? A wrist one, but she didn't have enough wrist left to put it on, probably.

And after that the nurses treated me like the real Prince Charming, too. I could've had a real good time if I hadn't been all hung up on Wyatt. And if the girls hadn't kept flying back and forth and giving them the stink eye whenever they came fluttering in to check on "our boy." They called me "our boy," or "my sweetie" and even worse things than that.

And Aisha finally said, "You been busy in here, huh?" Giving me the stink eye, a little, too.

And then Mike said, "Well, you've been busy, so he hadda improvise!"

And then they got into one of their little bitch battles while me and Cat and Big Man tried not to crack up too hard.

I was back. We were all back, almost to where we'd left off.

But there was one more big as hell hurdle to get over. And Mount Taylor over there waiting for me to conquer her, too, after that.

Had an angel up there to help me, though. Lots of 'em, actually. I hoped they'd meet up some kind of way. I was going to need divine intervention.

But I wasn't the only one.