Chapter 50
ELLIE
I’m FaceTiming Liv, trying to give her the full effect of the concert, when a text pops up.
Travis:
May, I need you
I frown, my eyes flicking across the stage where Travis was sitting earlier. He’s not there anymore. When did he leave? I consider ignoring it, but with his state, my gut is telling me something is very wrong.
“Hey, babe, I’m sorry, but I need to take care of something.” I flip the camera around so I can see her face. She blows me a kiss, and I end the call and rush out of the venue.
My heels clack furiously on the pavement as I run down the street, thankful our hotel is close by, not caring about the strange looks I’m getting or the fact that my feet are burning. Three-inch heels aren’t meant for this.
The elevator carries me up to the fifth floor, then I sprint down the hall to his room.
I bang on the door and lean against the wall, trying to catch my breath.
When no one answers, I pound harder. Someone pokes their head out next door, probably wondering what the commotion is, but I ignore them.
“Travis, it’s me!” I press my ear against the wood, but there’s no sound coming from the other side.
I’m about to run back to the lobby for security when my phone buzzes.
Travis:
WHERE ARE YOU??
Ellie:
Your room!! Where are you?
Travis:
YOUR room!
I scurry back through the hotel until I’m at my room. He’s sitting on my bed with his head in his hands when I burst inside. “What’s going on?” I do my best to keep my voice even, despite the panic filtering through me.
He jolts. That’s when I notice how pale his face is. A light sheen of sweat coats his forehead, and his pupils are huge. He types on his phone, and I grab mine again, waiting.
Travis:
I don’t feel well
“Bullshit. What’s going on, Travis? Your pupils are massive. What did you take?”
His eyes go wide, and he rushes past me into the bathroom.
I follow him. He stares at his reflection in the mirror as if he doesn’t recognize himself, then he splashes some water on his face.
He hangs his head over the sink. I fight the urge to slam it down on the porcelain to knock some sense back into him.
What happened?” I ask more gently.
Travis:
I did some coke. Only a little but I might be having a heart attack.
I shriek. “A heart attack?! We have to go to the hospital!” I fly from the room, and he chases after me, grabbing my arm.
He shakes his head frantically. “You could be overdosing! You’re not supposed to mix stimulants, Travis!
Cocaine and Adderall? That’s extremely dangerous!
Do you want to die? What the hell is wrong with you?
” I can’t help it, my panic is full-blown now. There’s no containing it.
His mouth opens, but then snaps shut again as he grabs his phone, clearly agitated. Well, join the club, pal.
Travis:
why would you think im on Adderall??
“Really? That’s what you’re concerned about? Not your heart exploding?! We need to go. Now!” My attempts to haul him to the door are weak. He doesn’t budge. His thumbs work again. I consider ignoring it, but he holds his phone up, tapping the screen repeatedly.
Travis:
I’m not taking Adderall and I’m not going to the hospital. I just want you to sit with me. Please!
“Trav, I know you’re lying.” I cup his face in my hands, forcing him to stop shaking his head and listen to me.
“I found a pill in your wallet. I see the signs, stop lying to me.” His jaw flexes under my palms. He tries to yank away, but I hold tight.
“I haven’t said anything to anyone, but you have to stop.
What you’re doing is dangerous, and you promised.
You promised your best friends you wouldn’t do this.
” He glares at me, his nostrils flaring.
“You’re better than this. What were you thinking?
Cocaine, too?” My voice cracks at the end, and I have to fight off tears.
His eyes fall shut for a moment. When they open again, I see a sliver of remorse that passes quickly as he sends another message.
Travis:
You went through my stuff?
I shrug. I feel bad confessing when he can’t talk, but not really. “I did, and I’m not sorry. I was worried about you. Turns out I had every right to be.” I decide to leave Penn out of it and let him think it was all my idea for now.
Travis:
Can you just lay with me? I feel real fuckin bad right now.
He grabs my hand and places it on his heart. It pounds under my palm, which makes my own kick up another notch. Fear grips me in a chokehold so intense I bite the inside of my cheek so I don’t cry. This motherfucker is about to be my undoing.
He needs a doctor. What am I supposed to do if he dies on me? Vomit curls in my stomach. He cannot die.
He leads me to the bed and climbs on. I lie next to him. We’re facing each other, my hand still pressed to his heart. I need to know it’s beating.
“You should go to the hospital. You could be overdosing,” I say quietly, nibbling on my lip hard enough to taste blood.
He taps my lip and shakes his finger at me, telling me no.
I go back to reading on my phone, but the internet is a scary place.
Some articles assure me he probably is having a heart attack, or at the very least doing irreparable damage to his heart and brain.
Others say he’s fine and the effects will wear off in a day or two, especially if it was only one line of coke.
I can tell it’s hard for him to sit here, too. He’s fidgeting and sweating, and breathing so damn fast it’s making me nauseous. This is the bar incident all over again, only worse because I know he did something and there’s nothing I can do to help him.
He sends me another message, forcing me to stop reading the articles on Reddit that are freaking me out.
Travis:
Put your phone down
“Tell me about your symptoms first, and answer honestly or I’m calling Penn,” I threaten and he tenses, glaring at me.
“Do you have a fever?” He shakes his head.
I press the back of my hand to his forehead.
He’s sweaty but doesn’t feel hot. “I already know you’re nauseous.
Any hallucinations?” Another shake of his head.
I’m not sure I can even trust his answers, but he doesn’t seem to be experiencing that one.
“Do you feel thirsty? Like you’re dehydrating?
Experiencing vertigo or tremors?” Another “no.”
“You’re awake, so not unconscious. No seizure. Oh my God, you could have a seizure!?” I nearly scream. “I’m not equipped to deal with that, Travis. I’m calling someone.”
He wraps his arms around me, rubbing his hands up and down my back, as if he’s trying to soothe me.
Somehow, we went from me taking care of him, to him calming me down.
I start hyperventilating. He squeezes me harder.
I can feel his heart beating wildly against my cheek, and it makes my nerves skyrocket.
He cradles the back of my head, stroking my hair.
I push him back. “I’m ok. You’re the one who’s not ok. You need a doctor or—”
“St-o-p,” he wheezes.
“Hey! Don’t talk!”
He rolls his eyes and aggressively yanks his phone from his pocket.
Travis:
I’m feeling a little better. No doctor. No Penn!
“But—”
He gives me a hard look and continues to type.
Travis:
I’m already on probation. If they get wind of this I’m out of the band. I can’t be out Ellie. This is all I’ve got. They’re all I’ve got. I swear I won’t do it again. It was stupid but I’m ok.
I stare at him. He looks remorseful and slightly scared. I want to believe him, but I’m not sure I can. I don’t think they’d really kick him out of the band. They wouldn’t be the same without him.
“Fine, but the minute I notice something funny, I’m calling an ambulance.”
He nods and we place our phones down. He kicks his shoes off.
I slip my heels off, then get under the blanket.
I rest my head on his chest, continuing to monitor his heart.
Grabbing the remote, I put on Animal Planet, hoping somehow that will cure him.
I know it’s not logical thinking, but it does seem to calm him down after a few minutes.
I’m not sure how much time has passed. Travis is sleeping. I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse. I’m lying on my side, watching him breathe, my hand firmly over his heart. It’s slowed to a more steady rhythm, but I refuse to move my hand.
A few minutes later, there’s a knock at my door. I carefully slip off the bed and Travis doesn’t stir. I check the peephole and see Penn on the other side. Oh, shit.
I crack the door and poke my head through the small space. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Have you seen Travis?”
“Uh…” I start to drum up a lie, but his eyes slide past me. There’s not much space he can see through, but he manages to make out Travis’s body on my bed. He looks back at me. There’s not an ounce of emotion on his face. No surprise, judgement, or anger.
“He ok?”
I swallow thickly. I’m tired of lying. I don’t know how good I am at it.
I didn’t have to face Penn after I’d seen the pill in Travis’s wallet.
Liv told him I hadn’t found anything, and he never mentioned it again.
But she’s always talking about how much of a human lie detector he is.
I wonder if it works on everyone or only her.
“Uh, I think so,” I manage to say after far too long.
He tilts his head, then his eyes move back to Travis. “Would you tell me if he wasn’t?” I want to tell him what’s going on. I’m not sure if I’m helping or harming Travis more by keeping his secrets. But I also don’t want to betray Travis’s trust.
“I’m worried about him,” he admits.
Guilt slams into me, tears threatening again. “Me too.”
He glances at me. “You’re good for him, Ellie. He cares about you.”
A gripping pain squeezes my chest. Damn feelings.
It’s painful to hear, yet brings me hope at the same time, and hope is a dangerous thing to have.
I know Travis well enough to know he doesn’t make anything easy for himself.
I’m not immune to feelings—love—as much as I’d like to think, but admitting them is scary as fuck.
I can’t fault him for being afraid. Feelings make you vulnerable. Prone to injury, if you will.
“Let me know if you need anything,” Penn says, backing away. Somehow, I just know he knows.