CHAPTER 26
BEN
The sun creeping under the curtain hurts my eyes. More than that, it burns them.
I groan and roll over, realizing then that it’s not just my eyes that hurt. Everything does. My muscles ache, my head’s sore, and my throat tastes like iron or blood.
Not good. This is not good.
Where am I?
My bed. I’m in my bed.
Can I sit up?
Yes, slowly.
Can I stand?
Maybe … no, not really.
Can I talk?
Whisper. Throat’s too dry, and chest is tight.
Where’s my phone?
The light of the little screen hurts as much as the sunlight, but I squint my eyes and suffer through it.
Who do I call?
I want Holly. I want her soft body pressed against mine, her soothing touch wiping away all this pain. She’s always in control. She’ll know what to do.
She’ll come here and … see how weak I am. How pathetic and sick.
She won’t want me anymore.
Can’t call Holly. Who do I call?
Jasper should be here.
The phone rings twice before he answers.
“Why are you calling me? Aren’t you upstairs?” The sound of his video game plays in the background.
Good, he’s in the house.
“Yeah.” I cough, trying to force noise out of my throat. “I need”—more coughing—“hospital.”
“Shit.”
The phone line goes dead, and I let my arm fall to my lap. I want to lie back on the bed, find some way to sink into oblivion, but my barely functioning brain knows I’m going to need to stand up soon.
“Ben?” Jasper rushes into my bedroom, looks me over, and then presses his hand to my forehead. “You’re on fire. Can you walk?”
Again, I try to stand but fall back after rising maybe an inch off the bed.
“Sammy!” Jasper yells over his shoulder as he kneels on the floor in front of me.
I don’t understand what he’s doing until I feel him slipping a sneaker onto my foot.
Sammy appears in the door, watching us with his eyebrow quirked. “What’s going on?”
“Get the car. Ben needs to go to the hospital.”
He doesn’t hesitate. “Got it.”
I try to lean over, put my shoes on myself, but the floor tilts at a weird angle, and Jasper’s arm braced against my chest is the only thing keeping me from crumpling to the floor.
“Just let me do it.”
My brain has trouble with the concept of time, so I don’t know if Jasper struggles to get me dressed or if he’s done in a matter of minutes. At some point, he lifts my arms to slide them into a coat.
I make a weak protest. “Hot. Too hot.”
“Too fucking bad, buddy. It’s below freezing outside.”
“Let’s get him to the car.” Sammy is back, and between the two of them, I hang.
Even though I try to put weight on my legs, the muscles just don’t seem to be working right.
At some point, I stop trying to concentrate on my surroundings and just trust my friends to figure out what we need to do and where we need to go.
Finally, I’m able to lie down. But it’s not a bed. My legs are bent, and I’m moving. Swaying, as whatever I’m lying on jerks around. I can hear Sammy, but it doesn’t sound like he’s talking to Jasper.
I’m in a car. I’m sprawled across the backseat.
It’s embarrassing how long these facts take to register. At least, it would be embarrassing in a normal situation where I don’t hurt so bad that my brain wants to run out my nose like water.
“We’re five minutes out. Do you have Holly’s number, or do you want me to call her?”
Holly. Holly. I miss Holly.
But no. Don’t call her.
“Why would I call Holly?” My mom’s voice sounds strange. Tiny and distant.
Is she in the car?
“Well”—Sammy’s voice is much clearer than my mom’s—“because they’re dating.”
“They’re dating?” Her words crackle and hurt my ears.
Sammy is on the phone with my mom.
“Um, yeah. So, I guess I’ll be the one calling her.”
Don’t call Holly.
My head pounds so loud that I don’t know if I spoke.
“Ben?”
“Uhhhng.”
“Did you bring your phone?”
“Here. I have her number.” Jasper is here.
I crack my eyes open and see them sitting in the front seat of my car, Jasper handing Sammy his phone.
For a moment, a slice of clarity cracks through my pain-addled brain.
“Don’t.” My hand weakly tries to bat at the phone being passed. “Don’t call Holly.”
Before my eyes close, Sammy turns to meet them with his own bewildered ones. “Why not?”
“Please. Don’t.”
Then, I pass out.
I check my phone again. A selfie of me kissing Ben’s cheek while he makes a goofy face at the camera stares up at me.
Just that, no texts or missed calls.
There’s an itch, not a real one, just one in my brain, demanding I call him again. But I fight it because two unanswered texts and one voice mail are plenty to let Ben know that I’ve been trying to get in touch with him.
Still, it’s weird. I haven’t heard from him in over a day.
Okay, now that I say that in my head, it sounds kind of needy, but ever since our trip to the cabin, there hasn’t been a day when Ben didn’t at least text me.
Should I be worried?
This week has been crazy though. Finals meant late-night study sessions and hours of writing papers. Even though I’m sure he would’ve liked to blow them off and put a larger dent in my box of condoms, Ben’s been good about respecting my full schedule. And, anyway, he’s had his own classes to worry about. Maybe he put things off till the last minute and has had to use every one of the last forty-eight hours to catch up.
I consider texting Jasper. I have his number from when we exchanged messages in the past about digital marketing.
But I hold off. The idea just seems too clingy.
What kind of relationship do we have if I start texting his friends to find out where he is?
So, it’s settled. I won’t text Jasper.
Today.
Even though the radio silence from Ben chafes, I’m still filled with a sense of freedom. My last test was an hour ago, and I don’t have to worry about school again until January. In just over a week, I’ll be giving Ben my kidney, but right now, I have no plans or obligations. I don’t even have to work at the bar tonight.
Taking advantage of this rare break in my normally hectic schedule, I brave the cold to stroll around the city. The chill in the air fogs my breath, but I’m toasty warm in my puffy winter coat. Deciding to treat myself, I stop in at my favorite bakery to buy an almond croissant and green tea. I’ve been rich in croissants lately. Ben always has one for me when I show up at his dialysis treatments. I think he sees them as a form of bribery, so I’ll keep coming.
Guess he hasn’t realized I’d sit with him for free.
Choosing to take my treats to go, I continue on with my walk, window-shopping and enjoying all the Christmas-themed displays. The rich crimsons mix beautifully with deep forest greens, the latter reminding me of Ben’s irises. My favorite displays are the ones with pine trees covered in sparkling white lights. Grams never liked the multicolored strands. She said they were gaudy, and she’d rather have a display that resembled glowing snow.
Holidays always bring up the clearest memories of her, and the hurt in my heart pounds. But I’ve experienced the pain long enough that it’s bearable now. So, I just press a hand to my chest, acknowledging the ache, and continue admiring the window displays.
Despite their loveliness, none of the colors are bright enough to entice me to crack open my wallet.
Money is tight again this year, even with Ben’s promise to pay my upcoming rent. And I’m still not completely comfortable with that. The idea skirts a little too close to me getting paid for my kidney. I tried to think of it as being bundled with my medical bills for the procedure, which are all being covered by Ben’s insurance, but my conscious won’t have it.
Next time we talk, I think I’m going to have to tell him paying my rent is a no-go.
With limited cash in my pocket, I had to get creative when it came to Christmas gifts. Luckily, I have a best friend who’s a photography major. Marcus and Pops are not particularly materialistic, which is why I think they’ll be completely happy with the black-and-white candid photos Terra took when she stopped by the house over Thanksgiving break. She showed me the negatives, and there was a perfect image of the three of us together. I’ve got my eyes shut with a wide grin and my finger pointing at my brother, whose head is thrown back, face contorted in laughter, as he clutches his stomach. All the while, Pops watches us, his hand half-covering his mouth but not enough to obscure the distinct curve of his lips.
I asked her for three copies. One I kept for myself; the other two I framed and wrapped.
Terra and I, fully aware of each other’s financial situations, decided we’d keep it simple by picking out a Christmas ornament for one another to add to our plastic tabletop tree. The one I found for her is a palm-sized elephant, her favorite animal, wearing a little Santa Claus hat.
For Ben, I struggled a bit but was saved about a week ago while searching through a local used bookstore. Sitting on the shelf, like it knew I was coming, was a big, beautiful book about the histories of tattoos. Okay, so maybe it isn’t super beautiful; the spine is creased, and some corners are folded. But I think he’ll like it all the same.
So, my shopping is done. Who says the holidays have to break the bank?
Probably someone with more than four people to shop for.
When my nose turns numb, I decide to head home. I do have one thing I need to get done.
I’m arranging my clothes in neat piles on my bed and watching SNL’s The Best of Eddie Murphy when my phone chimes. Diving for it, my initial burst of excitement dies when Terra’s name flashes across the screen. Still, talking to her is way better than playing the same loop of questions over and over in my head.
I pause the video and answer the call, “Hey.”
“Hey, roomie! How’s it going? You crying alone in our apartment, missing me?”
I snort. “Yep. You got it. Already ran out of tissues. How’s Fayetteville?”
“Boring. Faith had to go do Army stuff, so I’m just Netflix and chilling by myself at the hotel.”
Now that she mentions it, I can hear the drone of the TV in the background.
“Only boring people get bored.” That was a line Grams would throw at me whenever I whined for her to entertain me.
Terra’s affronted huff bursts through the phone. “You shut your mouth! I’ve never been called boring in my life! If Faith were here, she could give you a detailed description of just how exciting our reunion—”
“Stop!” Even though she can’t see me, I wave my hand, as if to ward her off. “I do not want a play-by-play of your sex life.”
“Why not? I’m really good.” From the tone of her voice, she’s clearly grinning.
“I don’t doubt it. But I’d never be able to look Faith in the eye again. If you start talking about you two, I’m going to lay out in vivid detail what Ben and I do in bed. You want to hear all about his penis?”
“Bleh. I don’t know why you bother with those things. Vaginas are so much prettier.”
“I’m sure he agrees with you.”
For a second, we’re quiet. I don’t know who breaks first, but all of a sudden, we’re both laughing hysterically. She might have been wrong about me crying, but my roommate was right about me missing her. Terra can make me smile, no matter how down I am.
As I catch my breath, I pick up my notebook and scan the list I wrote out earlier, ticking items off as I go.
“Did you ever give me back my blue scarf?”
“Nope. Should be somewhere in my room. You need it?”
Crap, not sure I’d ever be able to find something in the clothing hurricane Terra calls a bedroom.
“I guess not. I’m just packing.”
“I thought you weren’t going to your dad’s until Monday.”
With the surgery coming up, I decided to get settled at his house before the holiday.
“So? What’s wrong with being proactive?”
I can almost hear her eye roll through the phone. “Come on, girl. Take a break. Watch some TV. Paint your nails. Read a book. Fool around with your man. You two hanging out tonight to celebrate the end of the semester?”
If she were in the room with me, Terra would know instantly that something was wrong. She can read my face almost as well as my brother can. But, today, I can give her the vague truth without being interrogated.
“Not sure. I’m waiting to hear back from him.”
For a few minutes, Terra’s silliness distracts me from Ben’s silence, but the minute we hang up, I’m stuck on it again.
And kind of worried.
Could something have happened to him?
No, that can’t be it. Someone definitely would have called me. Jasper knows we’re dating, and Ben’s probably told his parents at this point, too. They’ve all got my number.
So, it’s got to be that he’s busy.
Or maybe his phone broke, and he’ll show up any minute, apologizing for leaving me hanging.
Or maybe he doesn’t want to see me.
Stop it. Don’t think like that.
But the insecurity weasels its way into my head.
I thought we were equally into each other. I thought he was as desperate to spend time with me as I was with him. The surety I have about our relationship, the understanding of how things stand, suddenly feels like trying to clutch a bar of wet soap as it slips out of my hands.
When did I give up all my control?
“Your temperature is down to normal, and all your vital signs have evened out since last night. We’d like you to stay for another hour, but as long as there are no changes, you’ll be free to go home.”
I shift uncomfortably in the hospital bed, wanting to leave now. But I’m not about to whine like a toddler, so I just give the doctor a nod.
“Thank you so much.”
My mother extends her hand, and the doctor shakes it with a distracted smile before heading out. Once patients are dealt with, he’s ready to move on. Efficient. I like that. It reminds me of Holly.
Hell, Holly.
I haven’t texted her since Thursday morning before I crashed in my bed and then woke up with my body on fire. I have no idea what she’s thinking. Hopefully, she’ll just write me off as being busy with finals. My phone is still back at the townhouse on my bed, so I can’t even check if she’s tried to get in contact. If the doctor’s timeline is right, I’ll be home before my normal Saturday dialysis treatment, so I can ask her to come over for that.
And I’ll just tell her …
Well, maybe she won’t ask.
More than anything, I want to keep this hospital visit off of Holly’s radar. That’s why I haven’t asked anyone else to text her. She doesn’t need to know about this. About how sick I am.
I hate the idea of Holly thinking of me as an invalid. She already gets a front-row seat to my treatments. No need for her to hear stories of my multiple hospital visits on top of that.
Right now, I’m the guy she wants to date. Someone she finds attractive.
I just want it to stay that way.
“You gave us a scare, hon.” Mom combs her fingers through my hair and stares down at me with tortured eyes.
I hate that she’s so affected by this.
“Sorry.”
“Not your fault, son.” Dad reaches from the chair he’s sitting in to give my ankle a reassuring squeeze.
We lapse into silence—me worrying about what I’ll say to Holly if she asks where I’ve been and my parents’ thoughts a mystery.
Until my mom speaks up, “I want to talk about Holly.”
Something in her tone makes my spine stiffen. I glance between the two of them. Dad keeps his gaze on his lap while Mom has on her determined expression that she uses with difficult clients.
“What about Holly?”
“Sammy said the two of you are together. That you are dating.”
Her eyes search my face, and I get the strong sense she wants me to deny the claim.
Too bad.
“We are. She’s my girlfriend.”
Her shoulders bow inward as her fingers press the bridge of her nose. “Oh, Ben.”
“What’s wrong with that? I thought you liked Holly.”
Her reaction hurts like a knife to the chest. This is the girl I love we’re talking about, and my mom is acting like I just told her I’m dating a Nazi.
“I do like Holly. She’s a very nice girl. Honestly, I want to kiss the ground she walks on. But, Ben, we’re so close to the donation, and relationships can be messy. Emotions often cause us to make stupid decisions.”
“What are you getting at?”
“What if you two have a fight? What if you say something that rubs her the wrong way? She can back out of this at any time.” She paces at the foot of my bed. The steady click, click, click of her heels hitting the linoleum plays as background music to her worries.
“I know she can. And, if she decides to, that’s her choice. But she’s not the vengeful sort. I doubt us having a fight would affect her decision.” My reasonable tone does nothing to remove the tension from my mother’s shoulders.
“But why take that risk? This is your health, your life, that we’re talking about. You need to do every—” Her lecture is cut off by the ringing of a phone.
And thank the universe because she is starting to piss me off. Logically, I know that her words are all coming from a place of concern. But her assumptions about Holly make my girlfriend sound like an emotional flake who’s willing to toy with my fate.
Mom huffs in frustration but still reaches into her purse to retrieve the phone. Whatever name is on the screen deepens her frown, and her eyes flick to me and then away.
My stomach clenches, and I sit up straighter as she answers, “Hello, Fred. How is everything?” Despite the obvious unease on her face, my mom’s voice is still pleasant as she talks to her nephew.
I can’t hear his side of the conversation, so I instead watch my mom’s reactions to his words in order to figure out what’s going on.
At first, something he says softens her slightly, even getting her to crack a smile. I let go of the breath I’m holding.
But I relax too soon.
As she continues to listen, a sense of déjà vu settles over me. Her body language becomes so familiar until I’m struck with a harsh memory. We’re back in the kitchen, the day she got the call about Grandpa Ben. But, today, she doesn’t stare at my father with helpless devastation.
Her eyes are locked on me.