Free What Remains by Helene Dunbar

here like this, but I don’t know what to do to get it to stop.
    It isn’t even like I even find Jessica that attractive. Or that girls are anywhere on my mind at the moment.
    â€œSorry,” she says. “Am I boring you?”
    â€œNo.” I force my hands down. “It isn’t you. No.” I can feel my face getting red. It isn’t like I can tell her that some voice in my head just said she was pretty and that I should drag her into my bed.
    She turns away and starts looking through the cards that are taped up on the wall. Cards from everyone at school. She’s looking at one from Spencer that has a bunch of clouds on it and when you open it, it sings about gray clouds clearing up and putting on a happy face. It makes me feel odd to be watching this girl I don’t know going through my stuff. I’m relieved when she comes back over to sit in the chair near the bed.
    â€œLook, last year, I went to Florida for spring break with a bunch of friends. I spent a lot of time convincing my parents that I was healthy enough. And I was. But … ” Her hands ball into fists.
    I can’t help myself from being curious now. “But?”
    â€œBut one thing led to another. I had a few beers and that was probably bad. But do you know what the worst thing was, Cal?”
    It’s strange to hear her say my name like she knows me. She’s angry. I don’t know if it’s with me, or herself, or with something else entirely.
    I shake my head. “No? What?”
    She’s pacing now. “We stayed up late every night. And I slept in every morning. I figured what the hell? An hour here or there, I’d be fine. I was sticking to the stupid diet for the most part. I was working out. I deserved a few leisurely mornings, right?”
    I nod because it seems reasonable the way she puts it.
    This makes her slam her fist on the tray table. The cups of green Jell-O I’ve been collecting for Spencer, who actually likes them, almost go flying.
    â€œNo. Haven’t you listened to anything they’ve told you?”
    I feel like I’m taking some pop quiz in a language I’ve never studied. “I … ”
    Her face stiffens. “Listen to me, and listen well because if you don’t pay attention to anything else, you need to get this. I slept in. I missed taking my meds on schedule. By the time I got back to Michigan, my body was starting to reject my heart. Do you understand what that means?”
    I only have an inkling. The doctors talked to me about the chances of my body rejecting my new heart. My mom said the word “rejection” the way that my grandma used to say the word “cancer,” in a whisper like if you didn’t say it out loud there was no chance of it happening.
    â€œDo you have a girlfriend?” Jessica asks completely out of the blue. It isn’t any of her business, but I shake my head.
    She looks at me kind of funny and says, “That’s a shame, you’re kind of cute,” which makes me blush and have to look away. From somewhere far away I hear laughter. I have to sit on my hands to resist the urge to press on my temples again to try to get it to stop.
    â€œAnyhow, seriously, maybe you used to worry about being rejected by girls. Or boys. Whatever you’re into. But now your life is going to be about trying to prevent being rejected by this heart. Don’t fuck it up.”
    Jessica stands up and walks to the door, looking way more tired than she did when she came in. Before she steps out, she turns back. “They hate doing transplants on teens, you know. Kids they can train. Adults just resign themselves to following all the rules. But we always think we’re smarter than the doctors, smarter than our bodies. And you know what? We aren’t. Just remember that.”

Eight
    I’m scrubbing the baseboards of the kitchen floor. Back and forth, back and forth. I can’t figure out why