Page 63 of On the Bright Side
“Did they give you any antianxiety meds before this?”
“I didn’t realize that was an option.”
“Will you be okay to continue?”
Do I have a choice in any of this?“Yeah,” I lie.
My eyes are wide open as I’m slid into the machine, watching the light of the exam room slide out of view. My arms brush against the sides of the tube. I thought I’d maybe be able to peek out to the room, but other than a little bit of my legs, all I can see is the cage on my head and the machine I’m inside. This is already terrible.
And then I find out why she gave me earplugs.
This machine issoloud. My eardrums could burst. If I didn’t have any hearing loss, I certainly could develop some now.
Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.
How long does this go on? Sometimes there are brief pauses, then a different tone of knocking begins again. Almost like the sound effects of an old video game. My back is stiff. There’s a small itch at my nose that I’m dying to scratch. I take slow, steady breaths, aware of my chest rising and falling. Does that count as moving?
Eventually, the technician’s voice comes through the speaker. “I’m taking you out to inject the contrast agent now. And then, after that, it’ll only be about ten more minutes or so.”
“Okay,” I say quietly. Does this mean another needle in my arm?
It does. I wince my way through it.
Back into the machine I go. I close my eyes as I slide in. But once inside, I open my eyes and discover that I can stare down at my feet…
Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.
…and the golden knit socks.
Chapter Thirty-three
Ellie
The day aftercatching up with Kayla, I’ve been packing my things back into the two suitcases I used to take stuff back and forth to Brandview. It’s quick because a lot of things are going straight into the donation pile due to the association they have in my mind with Cody. Unfortunately, a lot of my favorite outfits now leave a bad taste in my mouth. I’m not too upset about it, though. It’s like I’m getting an actual fresh start now—this time of my own accord.
I’m deciding where and when I go.
I haven’t told my parents yet. There’s no perfect time to be like, “Hey, Mom and Dad, goodbye.” I’ve generally been avoiding them, so the opportunity hasn’t presented itself. It doesn’t matter how that conversation ends up going, because my mind is totally made up.
It’s still a tricky task figuring out how I’m going to pay rent. The library job Izzy sent me would be the perfect fit. Except, there was one requirement I don’t meet. It’s only open to ACC students.
I think there are some classes taught here at Amber High that count for college credit through ACC. Does that come with a student ID? I guess I need to stop by Ms. Lily’s office.
Why can’tanythingever be simple? There are always so many little hurdles to clear before accomplishing a big goal.
The next day at school, I go see the guidance counselor during study hall, requesting that Kim come along to interpret for me. If Jackson were here, he’d probably know all the logistics of these class credits, but I have to figure it out without him.
Ms. Lily waves me into her office. She’s wearing a dress with a very busy pattern that seems to match the bowl of candy on her desk. Her doorway is down the hall from where I’ve been eating lunch, the spot feeling significantly lonelier without Jackson, and anytime Ms. Lily walks by, she gives me a pitying look, which hasn’t exactly made me want to stop by for a chat. Now she quickly positions the second chair to the side of her desk for my interpreter to sit on.
“Ellie Egan, am I glad to see you again!” Ms. Lily says, and Kim relays, matching the enthusiasm.
“Hi, yes, nice to see you,” I sign.
“Happy. Here.” She’s clearly practiced, waiting eagerly for this day. “You!”
Nodding, I push ahead with the topic at hand. “I want to know how to sign up for one of the college credit classes through ACC.”
Ms. Lily turns from me to watch Kim as she finishes speaking, then scrunches up her face, unsure. She types something on her computer. “I’m not sure there’s anything you’d be eligible for at this time. Is there something in particular you’re interested in taking? Do you know what you’re planning to major in?”
