“Well, you need someone to take care of you.” Dad’s cell phone chirps. He gives it a glance, then stands. “I’m glad you’re okay, Meggers.”
And then he’s gone, the door thumping shut behind him.
I don’t have my phone or any of my belongings. My car is still up at the trailhead. How much longer am I going to be in the hospital? I close my eyes and try to do what the nurse told me and rest, but my thoughts start spiraling.
How soon can I get back on my feet? Back to planning Dad’s retirement party? Back to the job I love? Back to swimming in myfavorite lake every day? Back to dancing my feet off with Quinn while buzzed on her homemade margaritas?
The door opens and Linden slips inside with Greta, my day pack slung over one shoulder. His deep brown eyes look tired, and he’s dressed in the same outfit from tree planting—a pair of broken-in Levi’s, scuffed boots, and one of his stupid t-shirts. This one is dark blue with a giant turquoise anchor. “I CAME TO GET DOWN” curves above it in block letters.
“Ohmigawd,” Greta says, racing to the side of my bed, her hazel eyes tense. “I can’t believe it. You got snacked on by a snake and you’re alive.”
I laugh. “Apparently I only got a small dose of venom.”
She takes a glance at my bloated, purplish leg and winces. “Jeez. I’d hate to see what a bigger dose would look like.”
A shiver rolls through me.Same, girl.
“Didn’t you hear it rattle?” Greta asks.
I shake my head. “It was breezy and the dead trees were squeaking.”And your dad was distracting me.
“You didn’t see it?” Greta asks, her eyes widening.
I hope someday Istopseeing it. “I did,” I say, meeting Linden’s gaze.
The planes of his face turn hard, and he looks away.
“I just didn’t, um, react…the right way,” I continue.
“We ordered pizza,” Greta says, tucking a stray lock of pink hair behind her ear. “Hospital food is garbage.”
“You can do that?” I glance from Greta to Linden.
“I ordered some for the staff too.” Linden shrugs. “Greta wanted to bring that fur monster of yours but I said pizza would be a better choice.”
“Can I do anything for you?” Greta asks, watching me with a solemn expression.
“Take care of Kody? I just got my last dose of anti-venom but they say I might be here another day.”
“Of course,” Greta replies.
A nurse peeks into the room. “Pizza’s here.”
“I’ll get it,” Greta says, and rushes toward the hallway.
Linden sets my day pack on the foot of the bed. “Need anything out of here?”
“My phone, please. I need to call my boss.”
The door thumps shut behind Greta, and Linden sets my phone on the little side table.
“Thank you,” I say.
He places my day pack on the counter behind me. “How are you feeling?”
“Kind of tired. Groggy maybe? The pain’s better. I’m not hungry though.”
His brows knit together. “Still nauseous?”
