Fangirl

“Yes.”
    She called Reagan next. Reagan had a car; Reagan would understand.…
    Reagan didn’t answer.
    Cath crawled onto her bed and cried for a few minutes.
    For her dad. For his humiliation and his weakness. And for herself—because she hadn’t been there to keep this from happening, and because even something this shitty couldn’t bring her and Wren together. Why was Wren being so cool about this? Just because it had happened before didn’t mean it wasn’t serious. It didn’t mean he didn’t need them.
    Then she cried over the fact that she hadn’t made more friends with cars.…
    And then she called Levi.
    He answered right away. “Cath?”
    “Hey, Levi. Um, how are you?”
    “Fine. I’m just … working.”
    “Do you usually answer your phone at work?”
    “No.”
    “Oh. Well, um, later when you get off, is there any chance you could drive me to Omaha? I know it’s a big hassle, and I’ll give you gas money. It’s just, sort of, a family emergency.”
    “I’ll come get you now. Give me fifteen.”
    “No. Levi, it can wait, if you’re at work.”
    “Is it a family emergency?”
    “Yeah,” she said quietly.
    “See you in fifteen.”
     
    There was no way Snow would see him here, up on the balcony. Snow was too busy trying to learn his steps for the ball. Too busy stamping all over Agatha’s silk boots. She looked lovely today—all golden white hair and creamy pink skin. That girl is opaque, Baz thought. Like milk. Like white glass .
    Simon took a bad step forward, and she lost her balance. He caught her with a strong arm around her waist.
    Don’t they just shine together? Weren’t they every shade of white and gold?
    “He’ll never give her up, you know.”
    Baz wanted to whip around at the voice, but he caught himself. Didn’t even turn his head. “Hello, Penelope.”
    “You’re wasting your time,” she said, and damned if she didn’t sound tired. “He thinks she’s his destiny—he can’t help himself.”
    “I know,” Baz said, turning into the shadows. “Neither can I.”

    —from “Tyrannus Basilton, Son of Pitch,” posted December 2009 by FanFixx.net authors Magicath and Wrenegade

 
    NINETEEN
    Levi didn’t ask any questions, and Cath didn’t feel like explaining.
    She told him that her dad was in the hospital, but she didn’t tell him why. She thanked him a lot. She pushed a twenty-dollar bill into his ashtray and told him she’d give him more as soon as she got cash.
    She tried not to look at him—because every time she did, she imagined him kissing someone, either her or that other girl, and both memories were equally painful.
    She waited for him to turn on the Levi, to needle her with questions and charming observations, but he left her alone. After about fifteen minutes, he asked whether she’d mind if he listened to a lecture—he had a big final the next day.
    “Go ahead,” Cath said.
    Levi set a digital recorder on the dashboard. They listened to a deep-voiced professor talk about sustainable ranching practices for the next forty minutes.
    When they got into town, Cath gave Levi directions; he’d only been to Omaha a few times. When they turned into the hospital parking lot, Cath was sure he’d read the sign— ST. RICHARD’S CENTER FOR MENTAL AND BEHAVIORAL HEALTH.
    “You can just drop me,” she said. “I really appreciate this.”
    Levi turned off the Range Management lecture. “I’d feel a lot better if I saw you in.”
    Cath didn’t argue. She walked in ahead of him and went straight to the registration desk. She was half-conscious of Levi folding himself into a lobby chair behind her.
    The man at the desk wasn’t any good. “Avery,” he said. “Avery … Arthur.” He clicked his tongue. “Doesn’t look like he’s authorized for visitors.”
    Could Cath talk to a doctor? Or a nurse? The guy wasn’t sure about that. Was her dad awake? He couldn’t tell her, federal privacy regulations and all.
    “Well, I’m just going to sit over there,” Cath said. “So maybe you could tell somebody that I’m waiting, and that I’d like to see my dad.”
    The guy—he was a big guy, more like a muscled-up orderly than a receptionist or a nurse—told her she was welcome to sit all she wanted. She wondered if this guy had been here when they’d brought her dad in. Did they have to restrain him? Was he screaming? Was he spitting? She wanted everyone here, starting with this guy, to know that her dad was a person, not just a