Wall Flower

"Hey, look at this!" Cassandra exclaimed, and she pointed to a flyer on the billboard in the Grub-Hub while other students kept walking. The rest of us gathered around her and examined the paper as she read it aloud: "Worship Night, Friday, the 19th, out at the courtyard! There will be a live performance by Hillsong" - (Cassandra squealed, cleared her throat, and continued) - "and whoever auditions to perform a couple songs beforehand. Auditions will be held in the band room, East side of campus, Room 32A. Auditions are all day and only on the 17th, so tell your friends who play instruments! Rehearsals will begin the next day to the day of! In need of guitar players, bass players, pianist, drummer, and vocalists." She paused, smiled wide and shouted, "Loraine, this is perfect for you!"

"What, the worship band thing? No way," I replied.

"No, no, look!" She cleared her throat again and read, "Bake sales and booths are available for those who would like to provide some food for participants in the Worship Night. If interested, go to Grub-Hub and speak with Mrs. Jacobs about more information. Come down to the courtyard Friday, the 19th, for food, fun, and worship! Bring friends and family! God Bless, person whose name I cannot pronounce." Nick chortled at her, but she ignored it and spun around to face us. "Guys, this is so cool! Hillsong, I can't believe it! Ah, I'm so abso-freakin'-lutely excited!"

"I can tell," Joe laughed.

"You guys gonna audition?"

"Nah," Nick said after sharing a quick glance with his brother. "I get, uh, stage fright."

Cassandra cocked an eyebrow. "But you've performed in lots of plays as a kid."

"We should go out and get new clothes for this, yeah?" Joe suggested, providing an escape from the subject, and Cassandra studied him. I simply raised an eyebrow at him. "Tomorrow's good for Nick and me. What about you guys? Want to go tomorrow?"

"Sure," Cassandra and I said at the same time.

"I'm going to go talk to this Mrs. Jacobs about getting a booth for us," said I, "so we can sell my scones and whatever else Cassandra decides to bake." I put my food in Cassandra's bag and waved. "So I'll be back in a bit."

Mrs. Jacobs was a short, stout woman who had to crane her neck to look up at me. It made me feel very discomfited and even more self-conscious about my height. She had very happy hazel eyes, however, and her demeanor was pleasant, which made talking business with her more pleasurable.

I would get the booth closest to the stage, but "far enough from the speakers so your eardrums don't blow up!" I expressed my gratitude to Mrs. Jacobs for reassuring me, and I admit it was a tad sarcastic, though she never caught on. I had to make a banner for the booth, could decide on the price of the merchandise I was going to sell as long as it was fair, and had to share a small percentage of the money I made with the school for allowing me to use a booth and for using the kitchen and its baking materials. Since I was one of the first to speak to her about providing food (another pair of friends said they were going to make enchiladas), she said I was the first to use the kitchen for an allotted amount of time. If there was an overload of volunteers using the kitchen, I would have to share, but so far it would be used by only Cassandra and me until the next group had a turn.

Mrs. Jacobs let me leave after I gave her my name, cell phone number, and dorm building and room number. I sat with my friends with about twenty or so minutes left till my next class commenced and explained to Cassandra what I had just learned. She decided on making cookie-brownies along with my scones. Joe and Nick were excited to try my scones considering they have heard so much about their "awesomeness", and I negotiated with them: They could get two free scones if they helped Cassandra and me with decorating the booth. Despite their claims of lacking creativity, they agreed, and we finished our lunch in peace: No phone calls from Diana and no awkwardness between Cassandra and Nick, which had grown slightly since the weekend the rest of the Jonases came.

"I said this before, and I shall say it once more," Cassandra announced as we drove with Joe and Nick to the nearest mall. "I need a job; I need money."

"I agree with her statement," added I. "My parents are going to get angry with me soon because I'm going to be asking for money. Perhaps Joanne will lend me some so I can bide my time. . . ."

"Ha! If we tried that with Kevin," Nick said, and he used his thumb to point at Joe sitting beside him in the front seat, "he would just laugh at us and hang up the phone."

"We should go job hunting," Cassandra suggested. "All four of us. Try to find some new store opening up soon and apply, or split up and try finding jobs, hoping they'll be close to each other so we can carpool and save gas money." She sighed, rested her elbow on the window, and placed her chin upon her fisted hand. "Let's hope they've got good, cheap deals at the mall. I'm going to end up just buying a bracelet if everything's too expensive. . . ."

The rest of us silently agreed with her. I do not doubt that I was not the only one whose wallet suddenly felt completely empty. When we parked in the mall's parking lot, entered the building, and looked around, all I could see were dollar signs upon dollar signs, signifying expensiveness. I vowed to stay away from stores I knew would sell expensive clothing and searched for Burlington Coat Factory or Ross or something along those lines rather than one of my favorite, expensive clothing stores named Forever 21.

"Well, there's a Ross," Cass announced, scrutinizing the Directory only feet from us. "If we go to our right, keep going, pass Claire's, and make another right, it will be -"

"I say we go!" I interrupted. "They'll have sales!"

"Whoa, okay," Joe laughed. Nick just grunted, and I saw from my peripheral that he shoved his hands in his pockets. He quietly laughed to himself and squinted at something. He saw me watching him with caution and gave me a thumbs up, so I put it to the back of my mind, though his pale demeanor did worry me.

Malls were mostly annoying for me because of the overwhelming amount of people cramped into one building. Though there was a downstairs and upstairs, I still felt claustrophobic amongst all these bodies breathing my air and violating my personal bubble. What's more, there were more than a couple teenage couples enthusiastically making out against the wall that we passed. Children were crying a lot that day and I wanted to go up to the parents, tell them to just buy whatever the child wanted, and shut them up, and I regretted thinking such a mean thought. I could tell Nick felt the same, for he kept squeezing the tip of the bridge of his nose, tightly shutting his eyes for a brief moment. I blamed the hordes of people taking up my elbow room; I did not know what Nick blamed.

"How about we make this more interesting," Cassandra said when we walked into Ross where there was a significantly less amount of people, for which I was thankful. "You two" - she pointed at the brothers - "should pick out clothes for us, and we for you two."

Nick raised an eyebrow, not really looking as though he wanted to talk, and Joe said, "You think that highly of our fashion sense for girls?"

"I have no fashion sense," I announced sarcastically, looking around for any signs of store deals.

"I'll like almost anything," Cassandra answered, "as long as it's not a girly pink. I hate pink."

"Estoy de acuerdo con ella," said I, satisfied with the puzzled expressions on the brothers' faces. “Unless ‘tis pastel pink or such.”

"Uh . . .," Joe said.

"Okay, then," Nick chuckled nervously. He cleared his throat and, looking at Cassandra, said, "Sounds like a fun idea. Let's do it."

"Okay, so I’m buying for Nick and Loraine for Joe - now go!" Cassandra shouted quickly, and she took off running towards the men’s' section. I sighed, rolled my eyes at her potential to embarrass me in front of a crowd of strangers, and followed at a walking pace. Joe called out, "Text you when I'm ready!" somewhere behind me.

Rows upon rows of clothing were stretched out before me and I had no idea where to begin. For that reason, I followed Cassandra and chose the row of men’s' tees behind her to begin my search, carefully examining the articles of clothing. Cassandra neither explained if we were just looking for shirts for the other gender nor who was searching for which brother (she had shouted it but my memory is drawing a blank on what had actually spewed from her lips), so I assumed she was looking for a shirt for Nick. Thus, I looked for a shirt that screamed, "JOE!" to me, and I found difficulty in doing so. Nothing that was interesting was in his size, and I found the occasional blouse hidden amongst the manly shirts.

Cassandra periodically came over to me and asked, "What d'ya think of this shirt for Nick?" and would answer her own question, either holding onto it or putting it back. From this, I figured we were gathering multiple options and were letting the boys choose which they liked more. Most items I found would have gone together well and it only raised another question for this game Cassandra decided to play: Were we buying an outfit, just one shirt, or multiple shirts? Just as I was grabbing a third shirt - a brown button up shirt that would go quite well with the khaki jacket I saw moments ago - Cassandra said she was texting the boys that neither of us wore skinny jeans, and I concluded that we were buying whole outfits.

"What are we buying, exactly?" I finally asked her.

"We're - hold on," she said, and she answered her phone. "Yes, Joe?" She paused. "Loraine just asked me the same thing. A whole outfit would be cool, but if it's too expensive, you don't have to. . . . Nah, just one. Multiple will burn holes in our wallets.”

I put a couple shirts on the nearest clothing rack slowly and awkwardly.

“No shoes,” she continued, silently laughing at me. Her nose crinkled and her eyes squinted more than they normally do when she silently laughed. “Yeah, I'm buyin' for Nick, so he can buy for me. . . . No, Loraine doesn't mind lace. Tell Nick that neither do I, ha ha! . . . Oh, yeah, sure, she'd like that. . . . M'kay, sounds good. Oh! Does Nick like sweater vests? He looks like the kinda guy who'd . . . oh, okay, cool! I think I found something. . . . Keep it a surprise? Okay, if you trust us. Ha ha, okay, bye, kiddo." She put her phone back into her purse and she looked at me. "Any questions?"

"What is he getting me?" I asked.

"Dunno," she lied, and she put a couple articles of clothing back on the rack.

I rolled my eyes and proceeded to grab the khaki jacket when I caught sight of something else: A plain white T-shirt that had a picture of an open mouth with ruby red lips at the center. I thought if only I could find a black and white plaid button-up and very dark blue jeans for him, I would have the perfect Joe outfit. I found the black and white plaid shirt a couple rows from where I found the lip-shirt, and I hungrily searched the jeans section for the vision-jeans, and I could not find any. I found red jeans (would not do well with the outfit), plain blue jeans, black jeans (close to my vision, but not ideal), and even canary yellow jeans (I would disown Joseph if he wore such jeans). My vision seemed out of reach, and just as I was about to give up on the dark navy blue jeans and grab the black pair of jeans, Cassandra had tsked somewhere behind me and said something about finding too many dark blue jeans.

I spun so fast my head swam. Cassandra was putting something deep navy blue and jean-shaped back on some shelves, and I nearly leaped with joy. I ran over to the jeans, checked the size (Cassandra had gotten their sizes while I was searching), and found a perfect match. I could have cried if I was a little more insane about this game. I draped the jeans over my arm, adding to my collection of clothing, and smiled blissfully at my friend, who was gazing at me as if I were more insane than I liked to believe.

"Are you all right, kiddo?" Cassandra asked, and I nodded. "What'd you get?"

I first showed her the black and white plaid long-sleeved button-up. "Joe-ish, indeed," she commented. I held out the graphic tee of the ruby red lips. "Very Joe-ish." And I pointed at the jeans. "I think he'll love it. And it looks like you grabbed all of it on clearance."

"Art thou certain?" I asked excitedly, and when I looked at the tags, I saw little orange stickers showing the lowered price. I could have cried again. "Consider my shopping adventure done. How is your hunting coming along?"

She held up the following items one at a time: a royal blue V-neck, a grey-blue cardigan, and regular navy blue jeans. The cardigan was the only thing that was not on sale, and she still did not "burn a hole in her wallet." I very much liked the outfit she chose for Nick; it was something I would wear if I were a boy.

"A job well done, beautiful," I praised, and she did a theatre bow. "I find it funny how we shopped for the boy who has a different taste in clothing – and a slightly different personality."

"That's how I chose these for Nick," she admitted, holding up her arm that the clothes were draped upon. "I thought of what you would wear if you were a guy."

"Thou art cute," I laughed, and then sighed. "Do you think the boys are done?"

"Shall I call them?" she asked. I nodded, and she called one of the brothers. "Hey kiddo, we're done. . . . You already bought the clothes? What'd you get her? . . . I see that I'm going to have to assume that what you bought looks a lot prettier than what you just described, 'cause I don't believe Nick would have let you buy something so nasty, ha ha!" She looked at me, pulled the phone slightly away from her face, and said, "Loraine, don't look so worried, he's a guy - he doesn't know how to describe pretty clothes."

Puzzled, I asked, "Did I appear worried?"

"No, I won't tell her, 'course not," she said, ignoring me. "M'kay. We're gonna buy so go wait outside or something. See ya."

After she hung up, the two of us went to pay for the clothing. We decided it would take less time to put our purchase together and let me divide the cost evenly and carry on from there. With all of the clothing in one bag, we strolled to the entrance. I was a bit reluctant to tread the rough sea of people and Cassandra had to get behind me and gently push me toward the doors. I saw Joe's and Nick's head off to the right of the exit.

"Hellooo," Cassandra greeted happily, widely sweeping her arms – with the bag full or our purchases inside – in a dramatic fashion. The two boys said their hellos in return. "Ready to head off?"

"Please!" I exhaled.

"Not a big fan of the mall, I presume," Nick responded. From his demeanor – still ghostly pale, small beads of sweat gathering at his forehead, and droopy eyes – I could tell neither was he.

"On the contrary, dear child, I find the mall an excellent opportunity to have your personal bubble violated by hordes of people and have the smell of body odor and stinky diapers invade your nostrils. ‘Tis a rather pleasant experience that more people ought to experience."

Nick sighed pleasantly, put his arm around me, and said, "That's why I like you so much, Loraine." He gave me a quick Christian-side-hug before letting go and laughed. "Sorry, I'm just feelin' a little . . . different."

Cassandra suddenly yelped, pointed at an unknown something somewhere off to our right, and said something so quickly and high pitched it was inaudible to human ears. Nick covered his ears and suddenly looked angry, but Cassandra didn't notice. She ran through the crowd and I caught a glimpse of where she went: A kiosk with aquariums on its shelves.

"Whoa, that's cool!" Joe exclaimed, and Nick again covered his ears and squeezed his eyes tightly shut.

"Shut up, please!" he shouted back, and his pupils seemed slightly dilated. "I mean - I can't -" He sighed. "I'm going to go get something to eat. I need something in my stomach." He and Joe once again looked at each other in sibling telepathy and I awkwardly watched out for Cassandra.

"I'm gonna go with him," Joe said, and there was a note of caution in his words. "Meet you at the entrance after?"

"Sure," I said, wary of what was happening.

We split up and I walked over to Cassandra in time to find her talking prices about four little turtles. A smile graced my lips at the sight of the two pairs of turtles, two to a tank. Two of the turtles were in a small tank with a pink cover, the other two in a tank with a green cover. I laughed at the perfection of Cassandra's finding, and because one of the turtles in the green-topped tank fell off the fake rock hanging from the edge of the tank and into the water. I immediately wanted to call it the Joe turtle, for it was too much like its human counterpart. Even the shell was colorful, a mixture of green, light brown, and hints of yellow. The other had a brown and green shell and a serious look upon its face, very much like Nick's face when Joe trips and goofs up.

"So, with food, how much?" Cassandra asked the owner of the kiosk.

The other two turtles under the pink top were exhibiting behaviors much like mine and Cassandra's. The turtle with the light brown shell was swimming in circles, going onto the fake rock then immersing itself back into the water while the other green and yellow flecked turtle sat upon the rock and snapped at the other when it ran into it and nearly knocked it over. I had to laugh.

"Twenty five? Seems reasonable," Cassandra said. "Could you hold on one second?" The kiosk owner, an attractive young man with jet black hair and green eyes who stared at me a lot, nodded. Cassandra turned to me, pointed at the two pairs of turtles, and said, "This gentleman here said he'd give us a deal: Since we're buying two pairs, he's cutting the cost by a few bucks, and that added up to twenty. With the two containers of food, it's now just a tad over the price it would be with just the four turtles."

"How about," the kiosk owner said, "I put the cost down to twenty if your friend here" - he rested his hungry green eyes upon mine - "goes on a date with me."

Cassandra's jaw dropped, and my stomach did a flip. True, this man was attractive; however, I did not know his name, his background, or his intentions, though the way his eyes grazed my whole body I could make a very well educated theory. Because of my past, it was only natural I decline. Five dollars less on this purchase would be great, but no doubt the boys would agree to a four way split and would pay us back later. I concluded in seconds that Cassandra and I could manage without this man's offer.

"I'm sorry to say I must decline your offer," I answered. The haughty smile was wiped off his face. "However I am grateful for the cut cost you already offered."

"Oh, uh, yeah," he replied, still absorbing the rejection. "The cost is still twenty five, then."

"I'm going to call Joe," I told Cassandra as I handed her my half of the cost. She paid the man as the phone rang.

"Loraine," Joe answered, and there was a flood of panic and fear in his voice.

"What's wrong?"

"Hurry up and come to the car," he ordered. "Nick has to get to the hospital now." He cursed, something I've never heard him do before, and he said, "Never mind, I'll come to the entrance instead. Just hurry, please, Nick threw up and passed out again."

He hung up, and I told Cassandra to grab the green-topped turtle tank and food and carefully run to the entrance. I thanked the man, grabbed the other turtle tank, and hurried as quickly as I could without jostling the tank too much. My heart was beating so quickly it was causing discomfort, and Cassandra kept asking what was wrong. I ignored her so I could save my breath and keep running to the entrance, avoid people, and keep the tank from falling out of my hands.

Joe was waiting at the entrance. Nick was leaning against the passenger window looking pale and sickly, eyes closed. Cassandra panicked, hopped into the backseat with me, and questioned Joe what happened. Joe did not answer, just stomped on the gas and gave us whiplash. The turtles splashed into the water and I felt sorry for them for a brief moment before panic flooded my nerves once more.

"Joe, what is wrong with Nick?" Cassandra demanded. "What happened?"

"You'll find out soon enough," Joe muttered, too concentrated on the road to give an answer.

The closest hospital was about half an hour from where the mall was located, and I worried how much longer Nick could hold on. He came in and out of consciousness during the car ride, and he threatened to throw up. He said strange things, like “Don’t forget to give me a scone,” “Socks make the man,” and “Glasses are a guy’s best friend,” and said he could not see things clearly. When he had not rolled his head and passed out, we would ask how he was doing, and he would get angry at us.

Joe had to carry him to the front desk because Nick passed out the moment he opened the car door.

“My brother went into diabetic shock,” Joe told the woman at the front desk, and Cassandra and I stood in stunned silence. “He has his Omnipod; I don’t know how he could have . . . I just need to get him treated.”

A doctor came, followed by nurses, after the lady at the front desk made a call. The doctor gave Nick a shot of insulin and put him on a gurney. We followed him to the elevator, down the hall we went up to, and to a room where they laid Nick upon a hospital bed. The nurses brought extra chairs for us, and we – Cassandra, Joe, the four turtles (no one has objected to their presence, surprisingly) and I - sat in silence while the doctor set up an IV.

“Nick was wearing the Omnipod,” the doctor said in his low, guttural voice, “however, it needed to be changed. Did he mention anything about it?” Joe shook his head. “From now on, you must ask him if his Omnipod needs changing. Seventy-two hours is the usually the time it can stay on until he needs to switch.”

The doctor told something to the nurse about the IV and turned back to Joe, who was staring at his brother with lifeless eyes. “Joe,” the doctor said, and he put a hand on Joe’s shoulder. “Your brother is fine, now. He’ll wake up next morning feeling better – he probably won’t know how he got here, and you’ll have to explain a few things, but he’ll be free to go. You can stay the night here, if you wish, but your friends -” He looked at Cassandra and me regretfully. “Sorry, he’s family, so he can stay. You two will have to pick them up tomorrow morning, whenever he calls you.”

Cassandra and I nodded silently, too worried about Nick’s condition but relieved to hear that he will recover to say anything.

The doctor and nurses left, and I sat in the chair near the sink, across from Nick’s bed, with the turtles in my lap. Joe and Cass pulled their chairs to Nick’s bedside. Joe sat parallel to Nick’s legs; Cassandra sat beside Joe and parallel to Nick’s torso.

“He looks peaceful when he sleeps,” Cass whispered, and she hesitantly reached her hand to his. She stroked it softly for a few short moments before folding her hands on her lap. “He’s so cold.”

Joe got up and leaned over Cass to cover Nick with the blanket. “I’m assuming you guys have questions?”

“Nick has diabetes,” I replied. “We have figured that out. However, neither of us knew he had it. Nick chose not to tell us. Why is that?”

“That’s something only he can answer,” Joe said. “But I can guess he didn’t want you guys to treat him like a charity case.”

“My eldest brother is diabetic,” Cass replied. “I understand that having diabetes doesn’t mean you can’t live a normal life.”

“Debes decirle esto a él cuando se despierte,” I told her in Spanish.

“Huh?” Joe asked, giving me a puzzled look.

“She’s saying I ought to tell Nick about my brother when he wakes,” Cass translated.

A few moments of silence passed when Joe announced, “I’m going to stay the night here . . . with Nick.”

“We’ll wait till you guys are with us until we name the turtles,” Cass whispered.

“Thanks,” Joe chuckled softly. He got up to hug us goodbye.

Cassandra cried when we got back to the dorm, and I simply hugged her until she was able to stop and remember that Nick was going to be fine. Still, she had memories of when her brother, Jeremy, went into diabetic shock, and was in a coma for a month. It traumatized the poor girl. She was able to relate to Joe that evening, and her heart definitely ached for Nick.

I believed Joe’s question about what was going on between his brother and my best friend was answered that evening: She loved him as a dear friend and had such strong feelings for him that she shared his pain. What I hoped he did not find in this answer was that I, too, felt the same for him as she did for Nick.