next time ask me, okay?'
She stared at him, finally understanding. For a moment, she'd thought Shay's insanity was contagious. But a wounded hand was a plausible reason for their wild ride here, and would square with most of what the cuff had heard. Tally could also tell the wardens that they hadn't eaten in a couple of days. Maybe a vitamin- and blood- sugar drip in Zane's arm would help his headache.
He still looked like crap, muddy and soaking wet, but he walked without any stagger. In fact, Zane seemed pretty bubbly after cracking his hand. Maybe Shay wasn't as insane as she looked — at least she knew what worked.
'Come on,' he said.
'Want a ride?' Tally asked, pointing. The second hover-board was coasting toward them across the grass, having followed the signal in Zane's crash bracelets.
'I think I'll walk,' he said, trudging toward the flashing lights of the emergency bay. Tally saw then that his hands shook, and how pale he was. And she resolved that the next time he had an attack, she was calling the wardens.
Even the cure wasn't worth dying for.
It turned out that Zane's punch had broken three bones in his hand, which were going to take half an hour to fix.
Tally shared the waiting room with two brand-new pretties waiting for a friend with a broken leg — something about running down wet stairs outside Lillian Russell Mansion. She ignored the details of the story, scarfing down cookies and coffee with lots of milk and sugar, luxuriating in the hospital's warmth and total absence of pounding rain. The rare sensation of calories entering her body softened the world a little, but Tally was glad for a few moments of pretty haze. Her memories of what Shay and company were up to in Cleopatra Park were all too clear.
'So what happened to you?' one of the pretties finally asked, the emphasis on the last word indicating her soaked and muddy clothes, exhausted expression, and generally shaming appearance.
Tally shoved a chocolate-chip cookie into her mouth and shrugged. 'Hoverboarding.'
The other pretty elbowed her friend, widening her eyes and angling one nervous thumb at Tally.
'What?' he said.
'Shhh!'
'What?'
The second pretty sighed. 'Sorry,' she said to Tally. 'My friend is brand new. And totally brain-missing.' She explained to him in a whisper, 'That's Tally Youngblood. '
The first one opened his mouth wide, then shut it.
Tally just smiled and stuffed another cookie into her face. Of course you'd run into Tally Youngblood in the emergency bay, they were thinking. Where else? They were probably wondering what piece of major architecture had crumbled under her this time.
Though her celebrity kept the two mercifully quiet, their furtive glances were unsettling. These two pretties weren't the type to become Cutters, Tally was fairly certain. But she couldn't escape the realization that her criminal notoriety was feeding Shay's little project, creating pretties hungry to explore a certain kind of bubbliness. Even full of coffee, milk, and cookies, Tally's stomach began to feel sour as she wondered if trips to the emergency bay were going to be the rage this winter.
'Tally?' An orderly stood by the waiting room door, beckoning her in. Finally. Tally was ready to get out of this place.
'Take care, kids,' she said to the pretties, and followed the orderly down the hall.
When the door closed behind her, Tally realized that she hadn't been taken to the outpatient center. The orderly had brought her to a small room dominated by a huge, cluttered desk. A wallscreen showed a grassy field on a sunny day— the sort of visuals they showed in littlie school right before nap time.
'Been out in the rain?' the orderly said brightly, pulling off his powder blue paper robe. He was wearing a suit underneath — semiformal, her brain informed her — and Tally realized that he wasn't an orderly at all. He had the beaming smile favored by politicians, nursery teachers, and headshrinks.
She sat in the chair across from him, her damp clothes squelching. 'You totally guessed it.'
He smiled. 'Well, accidents happen. You were wise to bring your friend in. And lucky me, being here when you did. The thing is, I've been trying to get in touch with you, Tally.'
'You have?'
'Indeed.' He smiled again. There was a species of middle pretty who smiled at everything: happy smile, disappointed smile, you're-in-trouble smile. His was welcoming and enthusiastic, trustworthy and calm, and it set Tally's teeth on edge. He was the sort of middle pretty Dr. Cable had promised Tally she would become: smug and self-assured, his handsome face marked with just the right lines of laughter, age, and wisdom.
'You haven't been opening your mail the last couple of days, have you?' he said.
She shook her head. 'Too many bogus pings. From being on the feeds, you know? Totally famous- making.'
The words earned Tally a proud smile. 'I suppose it's all been very exciting for you and your friends.'
She shrugged, going for false modesty. 'It was bubbly at first, but now it's getting bogus. So, who are you again?'
'Dr. Remmy Anders. I'm a trauma counselor here on the hospital staff.'
'Trauma? Is this about the stadium thing? Because I'm totally—' 'I'm sure you're fine, Tally. It's a friend of yours I've been wanting to ask you about. Frankly, we're a little worried.'
'About who?'
'Shay.'
Behind her pretty expression, a serious ping went through Tally. She tried to keep her voice steady. 'Why Shay?'
Slowly, as if controlled by a remote, Dr. Anders's concerned smile bent into a frown. 'There was a disturbance the other night at your little bonfire party. An argument between you and Shay. Quite troubling.'
Tally blinked, stalling as she recalled Shay screaming at her by the fire. Even under all those layers, the cuff must have heard how upset Shay had been — way beyond the usual soft-spoken tiff between new pretties. Tally tried to recall exactly what Shay had shouted, but the combination of champagne and horrible guilt wasn't very memory-improving. She shrugged. 'Yeah. She was pretty drunk. Me too.'
'It didn't sound very happy-making.'
'Dr. Remmy are you, like, spying on us? That's bogus.'
The counselor shook his head and went back to the concerned smile. 'We have had a particular interest in all of you who suffered that unfortunate accident. It can sometimes be difficult to recover from frightening and unexpected events. That's why I've been assigned as your post-stress counselor.'
Tally pretended not to notice that he'd totally dodged the spying question — she already knew the answer, anyway. Special Circumstances might not care if the Crims knocked down New Pretty Town, but the wardens were always on the job. Given that the city was designed to keep people pretty-minded, it made sense that they would assign a counselor to anyone who'd had any serious bubbly-making experience. Dr. Anders was here to make sure that the breakthrough hadn't given the Crims any new and exciting ideas.
She summoned up a pretty smile. 'In case we go crazy?'
Dr. Anders laughed. 'Oh, we don't think you'll go crazy. I'm just here to make sure there aren't any long-term effects. Friendships can be negatively impacted by stress, you know.'
She decided to throw Remmy a bone, and let her eyes widen. 'So that's why she was being such a pain that night?'
He brightened. 'Yes, it's all about stress, Tally. But remember, she probably didn't mean it.'
'Well, I didn't go all crazy on her.'
Reassuring smile. 'Everyone reacts differently to trauma, Tally. Not everyone's as tough as you. Instead of getting angry, why don't we think of this as an opportunity to show Shay your support. You're old friends, aren't you?'
