The nurse comes to check on me and gives me more pain meds that help me sleep. I pass out in the middle of practicing my pitch for the doctor. I have to go back to camp. I can learn a lot from the sidelines. It’ll all be fine. A little hiccup, sure, but we can salvage my summer. It cannot end like this,not before I figure out a way to convince my mom to delete all of her social media.
•••
My best friends and I would all agree that our Bethany is the crier of our clique. She cries at everything. Like, everything, but she owns it. Homegirl is emotional, but now I finally get it.
“It’s gonna be okay,” the nurse tells me, gripping my other hand. I’m not crying. I’m weeping, blubbering. I am absolutely losing it.
Dr.Cha is so sweet and very funny, but she didn’t have to let me go on and on about my plans for the rest of the summer—and it was a lengthy, animated pitch—just to tell me that I’ll be spending the next eight weeks in a cast. No sports, no stunts. I started crying before she briefly left the room, but when she came back and told my mom she loved her content, I really lost it. Such a betrayal. Doesn’t she know my mom’s criminally embarrassing content is why I’m in this hospital bed?
“Casts in the summer are hard,” the nurse tells me. “I broke my arm on spring break once. It was no fun.”
“You’re not helping.” I laugh through my tears.
“I’m sorry, sweetie.” She laughs with me. I glance over at my mom, who is recording the whole thing. She asked the nurses if they were okay with it, and they were. Did she bother to ask me? Of course not. I don’t want to cause a scene and it’s not like she’s gonna listen to me anyway, so Ijust go with it. Cristine Ford is a master editor, so I know she’ll turn it into high-quality content that’ll get a lot of views. Who cares if the results will make me want to crawl into a hole and die.
“At least you don’t have to worry about your face,” Mom says.
“Yeah, I guess,” I sniffle.
“The plastic surgeon said the scrape will heal just fine,” she says for the nurses and her own recording. He wouldn’t let Mom record him, but he did get me a mirror. My left cheek and temple look like I ran my face down a hot waffle iron. How can I spend the summer like this? Right after I turned kinda gay, no less?!
“Your arm is going to heal beautifully,” Dr.Cha says. “A tough scar on your face would give you one heck of a story when school starts again.” She winks at me, and that makes me smile a little and also consider running into another fence if it’ll make Mom put her phone away.
“Okay, we’re all done here,” Dr.Cha says. I look down at the light blue fiberglass now encasing my arm. At least it’ll bring out the blue green in my eyes. “While these casts can handle a little bit of water, I’d like you to keep it dry. And there will be a time where you think it’s a great idea to do something fun like a push-up, but we want this to heal nice and clean, so let’s take it easy. A few days of rest on the couch to start off wouldn’t hurt either.”
“Don’t worry, Dr.Cha,” Mom says. “We might have to switch up the summer plans, but I have tons of movies andrelaxing couch activities to keep us busy for the rest of the summer.”
I let out a deep breath, still looking at my cast and thinking about what she really means. Cristine Ford has at least one of us girls back for the summer, and oh boy, are we gonna make content out of every dang second of my healing process. I know Dr.Cha wants me to keep it dry, but a big fat tear splashes right off my wrist.
My mind is still scrambled with disbelief as we climb into the car Mom ordered so we can head back to the Cal campus to get my stuff. I’m still in denial even after a quick call with my dad where he assures me he’ll be home early for dinner, which means I too will be home for dinner, back home in LA. The denial is still there after I see the card the girls left in my room. Lots offeel betters andget wells, and oneI hope you have a good summer. Not bloody likely!
Honestly, I’m in denial all the way through the airport and as I muster half a smile for the vlog Mom decides to film at the gate. It’s not until later, when my friends have seen Mom’s stories and are blowing up my phone, that it really hits me. We’re barely two weeks into June, and my summer is over.
5
Heaven
I’m sitting on the couch, waiting for my parents to come home from work. We’re going out for a family dinner. Olive Garden. Dad says there’s been some tweaks to the menu and he wants to see if he can taste the difference. And then we’re going to go over this year’s bingo card. Dad said it’s his best one yet. I believe him and I can’t wait to see it, but for the last two days all I’ve been thinking about is my assignments from Miss Kelly. She’s sent me a pretty long list of different tattoo styles and a bunch of flash sheets to study. And she sent me a few tattoo artists’ BeeBop and Instagram accounts to give me an idea of what I need to do.
After I let my mom’s dogs out into the backyard for a quick potty break, I had plans to watchCall the Midwifeagain from the beginning. I was going to put it on while I set up my new Instagram account, but like four episodes ago, I opened my personal account and I just kinda froze. I’ve only posted like thirty pictures since starting the account when I was thirteen. I only have twenty followers. Most of the posts have like two or three likes, all of them from Jake, Axel, and my parents.
I switch over to Miss Kelly’s account again. She has halfa million followers. Yeah, she was onMasters of Ink, twice as a contestant and once as a judge. She’s tattoo famous and she’s good. Like really good. I know it’ll take time for me to learn and build up my own skill set, and I know I shouldn’t compare myself to someone who’s been at this for years, but still. I look at the pieces she’s posted, how good they are, and the pictures of Miss Kelly herself that she has up there. Hundreds and sometimes thousands of people talking about how much they love her piercings and all her tattoos. She does look pretty cool. I don’t even want people to see me with my hair down. How the heck am I supposed to do this?
I switch over to Mr.Rick’s account, and a few seconds later a message from Axel hits our three-person group text with Jake.
Heav, looks like you got another friend on TEAM LEZ BEEE ANNE!
I squint at the link he sent along. It’s from @CristineFord’s BeeBop. Before I can click on it, Jake responds.
She told me and Bethany.
I figured she’d tell everyone at some point.
Still kinda confused, I click. Mrs.Ford’s face fills the screen. I’ve known Saylor and her mom since second grade. Last year Saylor dated Jake for like five minutes until she sister-wife swapped him over to Bethany. We didn’t have a reason to talk to each other until Bethany and Jake made itclear they were inseparable. With Saylor and Bethany being best friends and such we’re just kind of around each other a lot, but she and the rest of their crew actually like group activities, like gym class and competitive sports, so I don’t have that much to talk to them about.
Mrs.Ford invited me to come to their house for winter formal pictures, which was nice I guess, but ended up being hella awkward ’cause I didn’t have a date. I survived, but I did not show up when she invited me back for the spring dance.
In the BeeBop she’s talking about Saylor coming out to her, which I guessiscool for Team Lesbian, which I am on. Saylor’s easily the hottest girl in our school, so it’s a little satisfying to know she’s one of us. She makes me a little uncomfortable, because I love my personal space and Saylor is touchy-feely affectionate with anyone who will let her get close.