Chapter 40
Dafne
“Alright, I’ll meet you there, thank you, Eleanor.” I end the call with Ollie’s mother and pocket my phone in the jacket Isabel retrieved for me from the dressing room while I followed the paramedics who carried Ollie on a gurney to their truck, still in my stage costume.
“So, what did she say?” Phoebe asks, worry creating a line between her eyebrows, Peter rubbing a comforting hand on her arm as he envelops her shoulders. They barely allowed Ollie’s parents and little brother on the ambulance, so there just wasn’t space for us to join them on the ride to the hospital.
“He regained consciousness on the ambulance, thankfully, but they need to check him in because he’s having trouble breathing properly. She said she’d call me if there were any updates in the time it takes to get there,” I explain as calmly as possible, when in truth I am barely holding it together. If something happens to Ollie I don’t know what I would do. The few times he had seizures in the past, they didn’t last a whole minute and he was okay after, just shaken up. I wasn’t prepared for what happened tonight.
“Why is the bloody cab taking so long?” Phoebe groans, straining her neck to see whether the car is arriving. A perfect whistle sounds from behind us, and the three of us turn only to find our director and Ms. Patterson making their way to the parking lot. What I assume are his car keys dangle from his fingers in one hand, while he holds Ms. Patterson’s in the other.
Someone’s having a good time, at least.
“Come on, I’m taking you to Oliver.”
I have never liked him more.
“Dafne,” Theodore’s voice calls as I start towards Mr. Hackle’s mini truck. Phoebe eyes us warily but I give her a reassuring nod and she walks ahead of us.
“I have to go,” I tell him, a desperate edge to my voice.
“He’ll be okay. I know he will.” He extends his hand as if to comfort me, but takes it back after I make no move to get closer. Devon jogs to us, his breath labored, and he rests his hands on his knees as if he’d just run the New York marathon.
“D’you have a spare seat?” he asks, exhaustion blurring with worry in his tone. I shoot him an unconvinced look, then tilt my head in the direction of Mr. Hackle’s vehicle. Ollie and I are both mad at him, but I think he would want Devon to be there. He nods gratefully, pats Theodore on the back, and sprints to reach Phoebe and the others.
“I know you don’t want me to come, but I’ll be here in case you change your mind. All night, if that’s what it takes. Give Oliver my best when you see him,” he tells me.
I scan his face for another second, then head to the truck.
◆◆◆
We sit in the packed waiting room; more than a few people cast us skeptical looks as if we were a bunch of aliens when we arrived wearing our costumes, but I suppose it’s not something you see on the daily. My dad texted me to let me know he and mum took a wrong turn and are stuck in traffic, which is less than ideal, because I’d feel better if I could hold my parents’ hands. But it is what it is.
My right knee is bouncing up and down wildly, Phoebe is torturing her thumb nail, Peter looks lost in thought, Devon nervously paces back and forth in front of us. Ollie’s family is in a smaller waiting room outside his room; his little brother texted me shortly after we got here, but hasn’t been answering for a while, and neither has his mother. To say I’m a ball of nerves is the understatement of the century. We have been here for exactly fifty-four minutes when a nurse enters the room and asks, “Oliver Hall’s friends?” We all rise in one synchronized motion, Devon practically jumping the nurse. “Is he okay?” He asks frantically .
My cheeks are still stained with the tears I shed when I rushed to Ollie in the backstage, begging for help.
“I’m sorry we kept you waiting so long, it’s a busy night,” the nurse tells us politely. “His parents asked me to tell you their phones died, something about taking too many videos?” That checks. They’d want to record every second of Ollie’s big night.
“They’re in with him now, but you can go in a few minutes. Be gentle, hmm? He’s had a big scare,” he says as he hands Devon a note with Ollie’s room floor and room number. The relief that washes over me the second my brain realises Ollie is fine is unlike any I’ve ever felt. After getting lost a few times we finally end up in front of his room, his parents and brother just coming out.
Eleanor walks up to me and hugs me, whispering that she’s proud of me for tonight and that she’s grateful I am here for Ollie. Eric, Ollie’s dad, squeezes my hand, and shoots a curious look at the small crowd we’ve gathered. “I know Phoebe, but are you two friends of Oliver’s as well?”
Devon all but hides behind Peter, who in turn raises an eyebrow at him. Phoebe smiles sweetly and quickly introduces Peter and Devon as I greet Ollie’s brother.
“Make sure this lot doesn’t tire him, yeah? He needs rest,” Eleanor whispers to me, and I nod in earnest.
I rap softly on the door before entering, just so Ollie isn’t startled by our sudden presence.
“Heeey you,” he drawls, opening one eye after the other .
“What’s up?”
I glare at him as I take the empty chair next to his bed. “You scared me to death, that’s what’s up,” I mumble, and I feel the sting of tears behind my eyes threaten to fall again.
“What happened?” asks Phoebe, holding onto Peter’s arms as if they were a lifeline.
“I think I need to take it easy for a while. I also might have been ignoring some … signs.”
“ Ollie ,” I sigh.
“I know, I know,” he places a hand on my wrist. “Between classes and so many rehearsals and everything happening with you … I think my brain went in overdrive. Literally,” he chuckles.
My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. How can he joke about it? This is all my fault. I should have paid more attention, should have made sure–
“Whatever you’re thinking, and I know you’re thinking it, stop,” Ollie warns me. “I’m not your responsibility, okay? You’ve taken care of me all our lives. This is on me. And I’m perfectly fine, as you can see.”
I pout skeptically.
Devon steps forward then, fidgeting nervously.
“No one’s ever almost died to get out of dating me,” he starts half-jokingly, half miserable. “But I am really glad you’re alright.” I may not know him well, but I didn’t think he had it in him to sound so small. Scared.
I guess love brings everything out of us. Ollie smiles broadly at him and gestures for him to get closer.
“Let’s give them some privacy,” I whisper as I turn to Phoebe and Peter, who nod knowingly as they make their way outside. Ollie calls for me a second after I’ve started walking away, so I stop in my tracks.
“About Price,” he says, and I immediately shake my head, not keen on engaging in that kind of argument right now. “No, listen to me,” he pushes up on his elbows to straighten himself on his cushion.
“Remorse is far better than regret. I know you feel betrayed, and you have every right to. But I promise that whatever happens I’ll be there, and Phoebe will be there, and Peter and even this lad,” he points a thumb to Devon, who smiles sheepishly. He’s probably forgetting he’s just as responsible for this mess, but that’ll be for later.
“You’re not free falling. You’ve got a damn good safety net.” Now I’m definitely crying again.
“Okay,” I whisper, squeezing his hand.
“Okay,” he repeats. “Now go talk to your man!”
Devon does a thumbs up, and I shoot them one last look before walking out the door. I shut it behind me, Peter and Phoebe and Ollie’s family all turning to look at me.
“Everything alright, darling?” Eleanor asks from her seat.
“Yeah,” I breathe, before turning to Phoebe.
“Is Mr. Hackle still here?”