His eyes are softer than his voice, but his body is straight and tense and professional. “The levels of your creatine and BUN tests also drew red flags. As soon as the radiologist read your images, the lab was contacted to do an additional glomerular filtration rate, or GFR, test that gives us an idea of your kidney function.”
My bottom lip trembles, but I refuse to cry. I know what he’s saying before he even says it. After I heard Mama talk to Grandma about Lo, I figured out how to do an online search to read about what she died from.
Kidney failure.
“The good news is, there are treatment options,” he proceeds to tell me, though his optimism if further than I can see. “Depending on what the labs show, we can figure out the best course of action for you. Your rheumatologist will be involved to speak to you about the medications you’re currently on…”
On and on he goes.
He tells me that the headaches are most likely related to my kidney problems and asks about any issues urinating.
Bloody urine? Dark? Trouble peeing?
When my lips part to answer, nothing comes out. My brain is too wrapped up in the months I’ve spent seeing pinkened pee. The slight twinge of blood on the toilet paper. The foam. The back pain.
How long have I known but wouldn’t admit it? How long could I have said something instead of pretending nothing was wrong?
You could have stopped it.
Slowed it.
Something.
Thorne must know that I’ve noticed changes, because he simply nods before telling me about further steps.
Dad and Cam listen so intently to everything Thorne says, nodding along and sometimes interjecting with questions.
What is a nephrologist?
Will she need surgery?
How long to you think she’ll be here?
The questions and answers are fired so rapidly, I’m not sure I absorb them all. I think about everything that’s happened in the past twenty-four hours.
I think about Dad.
Cam.
Kaiden.
How many doctors in my past told me I was fine? That I was too young to experience the pain I was? How many times would I fall asleep at night crying because I couldn’t move? How many doctors are going to be responsible for the outcome that’s dangling in front of us?
I swallow once Dr. Thorne excuses himself, slipping out the door and leaving us to digest everything.
“I want to s-see Kaiden,” I tell Dad and Cam. It shouldn’t be the first thing out of my mouth, but the words can’t be stopped. I want Kaiden.
“Em,” Cam says softly. “Sweetie, I know he wants to see you too—”
“Please?” My voice cracks as I stare at her with watery eyes until her frown blurs. “I just want to see…him. That’s all…it’s all I’m asking for right now.”
She looks at Dad before nodding.
Dad watches her leave before turning to me, his hand still on mine. He watches the way his rougher, darker skin contrasts my brittle paleness. His hand is twice the size of mine, the warmth of his palm soaking into me.
For the longest time, I don’t think he’s going to say anything. He doesn’t ask me how I’m feeling because that seems pointless. He doesn’t question me over what I’m thinking because he knows I’ll hold back.
In a quiet tone, he says, “There’s a card of a mouse on your nightstand. I saw it when he called us in…” He swallows and takes a deep breath. “He called you mouse once.”
Not knowing what else to do, I nod.
When the door opens again, it’s Kaiden looking wide-eyed right at me. He looks paler than I’ve ever seen, maybe even paler than I am right now if it’s possible. His hair is a mess like I expected, sticking straight up in different directions like he’s been running his fingers through it nonstop.
Dad glances between us. “I guess I’ll leave you two alone then.”
He called you mouse once.
In a blink of an eye, Kaiden is beside me, towering over me, staring down like I’m going to disappear. Am I? Will I?
I lick my lips again.
“I was fucking worried,” he growled, scanning over the wires surrounding me. His eyes dart to the monitor that’s showing my irregular heartbeat before turning back to me. “I was about to risk getting arrested just to see you. Do you know how damn hard it was standing out there while they had you in here?”
“I—”
“The nurses are assholes,” he informs me coolly, sneering at the door. “They kept telling me someone would be out to give me answers, and nobody ever did. Not once did those doors open, Emery.”
Emery. Not Mouse.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, pressing my lips together. What else is there to say?
“Mom said…” His nostrils flare. “Mom said that you’re not doing well. Tell it to me straight. What the fuck is going on?”
That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? Right now, my blood is being tested to see how screwed I am. Thorne may have had optimism that we could slow the progression and damage based on the results, but there’s calmness to my stomach that shouldn’t be there and it’s not the medicine making me feel that way.
“Em.” He brushes hair behind my ear and watches me closely, his bottom lip trembling in the slightest way.
“Are you going…to go to M-Maryland still?”
He gapes at me. “What the hell does that have to do with anything? We’re not talking about college right now.”
“Are you?”
He blinks.
“Kaiden…” I take a deep breath and feel my own defenses completely shattering. “I need you to go to UM, okay? It’ll make me h-happy.”
His throat bobs and his anger becomes tenfold as he studies my face.
“Cam will be happy too,” I continue, wrapping my fingers around his. The way he looks at me is in pure disbelief. “I’ll v-visit when I can. When you have games, I’ll…come see you play and cheer you on.”
His expression morphs into something unreadable. There’s pain lingering in his pinched lips, that much I can see. Kaiden Monroe has never been stupid. He knows I offer him that little bit of hope to ease the reality that’s about to hit us whether we’re ready or not.
Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I give him a tiny smile. “Don’t tell Cam I told you this because she wants it to be a surprise, but she already bought a bunch of UM sweatshirts and memorabilia. I’m pretty sure I even saw one of those foam fingers.”
His lips twitch upward, then flatten. The tiny shift of his anger for even a millisecond means he’s trying. He’s willing to let go of his anger.
Trying to focus on what I want to say, I give myself a minute before managing a small, sad smile. “And…I think she bought something for all of us to wear, maybe…even customized the backs with your name.” We both know she’d do that. I’m sure once she finds out his jersey number, that’ll go on the back of any shirt she wears to games too.
He flips our hands so his is squeezing mine. “Your skin is so pale.”
That must say something considering we’re cloaked in darkness. Only the glow of the computer’s screensaver lights up the corner of the room. The narrow window on the door barely allows any of the hallway light to creep in.