Sorta Like A Rock Star Part 20

"Yes, Father Chee?"

"I am sorry."

"For what?"

"For putting unneeded pressure on you. For putting a cross on you when you are already suffering. It was wrong of me. Selfish."

I don't say anything.

"Unless you ask me to keep coming, I will no longer come to visit you every day. In fact, I will never come again if you do not ask me to come. I want to help you, yes, but I also have been coming here because I need to believe that you are someone I need you to be, so that my faith will be increased. This is not fair to you. You spoke this truth the last time we talked. So this is the last time I will come to your room uninvited. The Korean Divas for Christ miss you very much and would love to sing with you again, but they will be just fine if you choose never to return to us. It is your life to do with as you wish, and you should make the decisions you think are best. I will be praying that you are who you need to be, always. And for selfish reasons, I hope that I will see you again soon. But Father Chee will also be okay either way, so do not worry about him. Goodbye."

When Father Chee turns to leave I want to hug him and tell him to stay-that I want him to keep coming every day-but for some reason, I say nothing.

FC does not come the next day, and I am equal parts surprised, angry, and sad.

CHAPTER 45.

FLOWERS ARE IN THE.

GROUND, WHERE WE CANNOT SEE THE.

FUTURE WONDERMENT.

CHAPTER 46.

Easter comes and goes.

I do not go to church.

I do not celebrate the resurrection.

CHAPTER 47.

SUN STREAMING THROUGH THE.

WINDOW, MY CARPET IS WARM.

ENOUGH FOR BARE FEET.

CHAPTER 48.

Jared and Chad-in-a-backpack visit me again for the first time in weeks.

"I know you told us not to come," Jared says.

"But we came anyway," says Chad.

"Did Ty really come here solo?" Jared asks.

"Yeah," I say.

"He's growing a beard," Chad says.

"What?" I ask.

"Ty says he's not going to shave until you come out of your room and agree to go to Friendly's with us," Chad says.

"He's calling it a friends.h.i.+p beard," Jared says. "Says it's an outward sign of his support for the reunification of The Five."

"And he grew a full beard in days!" Chad says. "He's beginning to look like Bin Laden."

"What? Why?" I ask.

"Because his beard is getting all long and pointy at the chin," Chad says. "Not because he actually wants to look like a terrorist or anything like that. Ty's a patriot. Red, white, and blue-tried-and-true."

"No, why is he growing a beard? Seriously."

"As an outward sign of his support for you," Jared says. "Just like I told you. It's a friends.h.i.+p beard."

"But I'm not seeing the beard, because I'm in my room, so why would he grow one?"

"He sorta sent us here today to tell you about it," Chad says. "Show her, brother."

Jared flips open his cell phone, hits a few b.u.t.tons, and suddenly bearded Ty is smiling through the little square screen. His beard is sort of pointy at the chin, but he looks nothing like Bin Laden.

"We wanted to see you anyway," Jared says, "because we miss you a lot and we feel really badly about your missing Marketing Club regionals and refusing to be a part of The Five. But Ty is really worried about you. He's really upset."

Jared says, "So what should we tell him?"

"Tell him?" I say.

"What's your reply?" Chad asks.

"I don't know," I say.

"Will you-maybe go to Friendly's with us?" Chad asks.

"I'm not going anywhere right now," I say.

"But maybe you maybe will-like-go to Friendly's again with us in the future?" Jared asks.

I sigh. This is ridiculous.

"Okay," Chad says. "We'll take that as a maybe and leave before you change your mind."

When they leave, I sigh and shake my head.

I hear Donna ask Chad and Jared how it went, and they say "Pretty good" just before I hear them exit through the front door.

CHAPTER 49.

AIR GOES IN AND OUT,.

OF MY NOSE, THROAT, LUNGS, BLOOD, HEART,.

BRAIN-AND SO I AM

CHAPTER 50.

"Do you notice anything different?" Donna asks me. She's sitting down on the side of my bed, rubbing my back lightly with her hands. She's been doing this lately. She also has been combing my hair at night. I don't say anything to her about this-because I secretly like it when she rubs my back and combs my hair, as if I were a little girl again and she were my mom.

Donna's not my mom-my mom is dead-but it still feels good.

I don't say anything to Donna, because I'm still being a cat.

"When was the last time you saw Bobby Big Boy?" Donna asks me after rubbing my back for-like-fifteen minutes or so.

I think about it, and suddenly, my heart starts beating really fast.

It's been days-maybe weeks.

No, it can't be.

When was the last time I saw BBB?

I haven't thought about BBB even once for so long.

I am a terrible pet owner.

I sit up.

"Bobby Big Boy?" I yell.

"Shhh," Donna says, "he's sleeping downstairs."

"Is something wrong with him?"

"Well. He's been acting a little funny," Donna says. "So-I'm just going to say this, Amber-I called a veterinarian today."

"Why?"

"Bobby Big Boy has had a lot of diarrhea lately. He hasn't been eating regularly. He's been lethargic-looking sort of unthrifty. And today when I took him for a walk he-well-he collapsed."

"What?"

"He recovered. He's okay now. But I'm taking him to the vet in a few minutes, and I wanted to know if you wanted to go with me."

I run downstairs and find BBB in his room, lying on his bed.

His eyes are gla.s.sy.