Not Our Summer by Casie Bazay (best ebook reader for ubuntu .TXT) 📕

family drama in here all the time. I’m sure this is nothing new. “I’ll go get her.”

Jackie’s lips tremble as we enter the room, but relief softens her features once she sees her daughter alive with four limbs intact. There’s no telling what possibilities had been running through her mind. The nurse is gone and K. J. is leaning back on the reclined bed, eyeing us both with a look of annoyance. Like we only came here to bother her.

“How are you feeling?” Jackie asks, taking a tentative step closer to the bed.

K. J. looks from me to her mom and back to me again, but her lips stay sealed. I proceed to explain the injuries to Jackie: a concussion, broken rib, and a bruised ego. K. J. works hard to refrain from smiling at that last one.

Jackie steps back and leans against the wall, clasping her hands together in front of her. “Thank God it’s nothing worse.” Her gaze drops to the floor, and she shakes her head. “Damn you, Dad, for making my baby girl get in an arena with a bull.”

I start to explain but K. J. cuts in.

“It was my fault. I got there late and that was the only event I could still enter.”

Jackie’s expression changes from worried to angry, and she looks like she wants to go off on K. J. for doing something so dumb, but instead she mumbles, “That figures.”

The door opens and a young doctor and the nurse from before come striding in. The doctor turns to Jackie. “Are you Mom?”

“Yes, sir.”

He introduces himself as Dr. Yin, shaking her hand. “We’d like to keep Katherine here overnight just for observation. To make sure she doesn’t develop any other symptoms from the head trauma. She took a pretty hard hit.”

Jackie opens her mouth like she might protest, but then promptly closes it again. “Okay, whatever my baby girl needs.”

I don’t miss K. J.’s exaggerated eye roll.

Dr. Yin shines a small light into each of K. J.’s eyes.

“Pupils still dilated some,” he notes. He examines her head, asking where it hurts. K. J. touches the back—probably where her head hit the ground. The doctor stands upright, depositing the flashlight into his lab coat pocket. “Okay, Athena’s going to help get you moved to a room.”

The nurse bustles out of the room, reappearing a few seconds later with a wheelchair in tow. Dr. Yin examines the paperwork on the counter and then turns to pat K. J.’s knee. “No more playing with bulls, young lady.”

“Don’t worry,” she says, “I won’t be doing that ever again.”

“That’s good. I hear kittens are much safer,” he says with a wink. “Take care.”

Nurse Athena helps K. J. into the wheelchair. I can tell she’d like to say a few choice words as she settles into the oversized seat, but just like Jackie, she holds her tongue. We follow them out of the room, but Athena directs us to use the public elevators back near the waiting area. Jackie hangs back while I explain what’s going on to Mom and Tim.

“Are you ready to go, then?” Mom asks. She’s obviously tired. It’s been a long night for everyone.

“Actually, I think I’ll stay here with K. J. tonight. I’ll call you in the morning.”

Mom frowns. “But you don’t have your car.”

“I can bring her home,” Jackie offers. “I’ll stay, too.”

Mom catches my eye, and I know she’s wondering if I’m okay with that.

“Thanks, Aunt Jackie.” It sounds strange to be calling her that to her face after all these years.

Mom gives me a semi-smile. “Okay. Call me if you need something.”

“I will.” I turn to Jackie. “Ready?”

She gives a nod, and we start for the elevators.

“I’ll stay out in the waiting area,” Jackie says once we’ve arrived on the second floor. “I just want to be here in case anything goes wrong.”

She goes to pour herself a cup of coffee from a nearby pot while I head for K. J.’s room. The door is partway open, but I knock before going in.

“Come in,” K. J. responds in a bored tone I’ve heard before. She’s sounding more like herself every second, thank goodness. Another nurse attends to her now, trying to help her get comfortable on the bed. K. J. winces with every little movement but finally settles back onto the pillow, which has been placed behind her head. The nurse pulls a blanket up over her.

The room is cold and bare, with only a small television and a blank whiteboard on one wall. There’s a padded maroon recliner near the bed—my sleeping spot for the night, I guess.

K. J. catches me eyeing it. “You crashing here?”

I yawn and make my way around her bed. “I don’t have anything better to do.”

“Did my mom go home?”

“No, she’s out there.”

K. J.’s lips tighten, but she doesn’t say anything. She’s pissed at her mom, but deep down, I’m sure she still loves her and is glad she’s here.

I set my backpack in the windowsill and grab a folded blanket from a corner table before sinking into the chair. It’s not super comfortable, but it will do. “Let me know if you need anything,” I tell her.

“’Kay,” she says sleepily. They probably gave her some good pain meds. “Oh, crap,” she says a moment later, sounding startled. “Someone should call Carter. Let him know where I am and all.”

“I have your phone.” I reach for my backpack to retrieve it. “Want me to do it?”

“Do you mind? I’m so tired.”

“Yeah. No problem.” I scroll through her contacts and find his name. It rings five times, but then goes to voicemail. I hang up. “He didn’t answer.”

K. J. is already snoring softly.

I smile, switch both our phones to silent, and put them away.

CHAPTER 31K. J.

“GOOD MORNING, SUNSHINE!”

I open my eyes and blink, trying to take in my dim surroundings. For a split second, I’m completely lost and then a sharp pain shoots through my chest, and I remember everything