CHAPTER TWELVE
GRANT
I t’s been two weeks since I found Lina running near the facility, and every day since then, I’ve subconsciously looked for her as I leave.
And every day around the same time, she rounds the corner of the path leading back to our apartment. It’s given me a pretty good indicator that she’s not sleeping. Not as much as she should be, at least.
According to the time Braxton usually comes back from the girls’ apartment—where he tends to mention how he had to leave because the four of them are nowhere close to sleep—she doesn’t go to bed early.
And based on the sheen of sweat on her forehead and the way her hair is slicked to her head, she’s been out running for quite some time.
Today, though, I immediately pick up on how tired she truly looks. Her pace is slower, her feet are dragging a bit more than usual, and she looks pale—hollowed out.
Her sweatshirt is loose, swaying with every movement, and her running shoes pound against the pavement.
Like usual, she rolls her eyes when she sees me approach, but it lacks its usual edge. I can’t think of anything to say when my mind is fogging with concern.
“Lina…” It sounds more like a question as I approach, mostly because I don’t know what the fuck is going on with her, and it worries me more than I care to let on.
“Hi,” she says through a long breath, more winded than normal.
That’s another red flag. Lina never greets me casually when I see her on her odd, early morning run. For the past two weeks, it’s been some type of clipped, witty response.
My brain is moving a million miles a minute, my eyes scanning over her again and again, looking for any indicator that something’s wrong.
“What’s going on?” Is the first thing I ask her.
“I don’t know,” she gasps, sounding more vulnerable than I’ve ever heard her. “My chest hurts. I can feel my heart beating out of my chest. I think—I think I’m having a heart attack.”
Shit. I can tell her panic is real.
“Okay, okay. Sit down against the fence. You’re alright.”
Lina doesn’t argue, but she doesn’t listen either, but she sways a bit. Then, she makes a move to take her sweatshirt off, panting like she’s about to overheat.
Her frantic movements mixed with her panic have me immediately moving to help her.
“Can you lift your arms?” I ask, bending the slightest bit at the knees so I’m eye-level with her. It doesn’t take much, considering she’s pretty tall.
She nods softly, lifting her arms halfway.
“Good, good.” I take all the help from her I can get, making quick work of pulling the sweatshirt over her head, leaving her in only a sports bra.
“Grant,” she pants, as if removing a layer didn’t help whatsoever.
I place a hand on her arm. “You’re alright. I’ve got you.”
She bends over, putting her hands on her knees while looking down at the ground. When she looks back up at me, her eyes roll again, but not in annoyance. Shit.
Her body goes lax as her eyes hit the back of her head, and I lunge forward to catch her with my other hand as she falls. “Shit, Lina!” Shit, shit, shit.
My arms tighten around her instinctively as I hold up her body, panic slamming into me like a freight train.
Jesus. This is what I’ve always been most afraid of. People getting hurt, disaster striking right in front of me where there’s nothing I can do about it.
I lower us both to the pavement as gently as I can, trying to keep her upright against me. Her head lolls, her skin is clammy, and my mind is racing.
She’s not breathing right. Or maybe she is, but what if it’s not enough?
What if her heart gives out? What if it’s already too late? What if I didn’t get here fast enough?
“Lina. Hey, come on. Wake up.” My fingers shake as I tap her cheek.
She doesn’t respond.
God, I knew something was off. I saw it. I saw it, and I still let her keep running through campus in the middle of the night like this.
My heart pounds in my ears. I’m trying to breathe, trying not to tip over the edge, but the fear’s already wrapped around my throat.
Passing out may not be that big of a deal, but I’m panicking more because I know there’s a bigger reason behind this.
I’ve known that Lina hasn’t been sleeping—that much is obvious. I have no idea what else is going on. She could be dehydrated or not eating.
This feels bigger.
Then I feel her body stiffen, and I know my intuition was right. This is only getting worse. It’s my biggest fear coming to life.
Worst-case scenarios are all I think about, but now, having it happen right in front of me is not something I could have ever prepared for.
Her body begins convulsing in hard, violent jerks that send her side-to-side. Her muscles are completely locked up, trembling uncontrollably in my arms. Foam gathers at the corner of her mouth.
My heart stops because I’ve never seen anything like this.
I ease her onto her side, trying to remember every first-aid thing I’ve ever heard about seizures. I cradle her head, keeping her from hitting anything, but my hands are shaking so bad I can barely hold her still.
The seizure lasts maybe thirty seconds, but it feels like a goddamn lifetime— my entire lifetime. When it stops, her body goes limp again. I wonder if there are drugs running through her system causing this reaction. It makes my blood run cold. I can’t do this again.
I pull out my phone, my hands shaking as I dial a number that gives me flashbacks to the worst day of my life.
“911, what is your emergency?”
“I need an ambulance. Outside the Yale University football facility.” I’m sure my voice sounds manic. “She’s unconscious and had a seizure.”
The operator keeps asking me questions, and despite me no longer wanting to be a part of this phone call, I answer each of them.
All the while, I’m brushing Lina’s caramel brown hair back, even though none of it’s in her face. I try coaxing her awake, and eventually, her eyes begin fluttering open. She’s still breathless when she begins looking around with her head in my lap.
“Hey, hey.” I place a hand on her shoulder to stop her from trying to stand up. “You’re okay. Just lie down.”
Lina’s hazel eyes fill with tears. Jesus, it makes my heart fucking hurt.
“I don’t feel good,” she says, sounding delirious.
“I know, I know.” I’m not sure why I’m repeating every word I’m saying. I think I’m more trying to reassure myself.
It only takes a few minutes before the ambulance shows up, and my stomach sinks when Lina doesn’t put up a single complaint as she’s put on a stretcher and loaded into the ambulance. She doesn’t fight it in the way she fights everything else.
In fact, when one of the paramedics looks down at her and asks, “Do you want him to come with you?” The last thing she does is argue.
She looks toward me with the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen. “Please?” she croaks.
It wasn’t even a question, not for me. I’m jumping in the back of the ambulance before the medic can even give me the okay.
I sit on the bench to her left, resting my hand on the railing of the gurney as the back doors are shut and the ambulance takes off toward the hospital.
“Okay, dear, I’m going to ask you some questions while I set you up with an IV. It’s okay if you don’t know all the answers, since it’s likely you’ll still be experiencing some brain fog. Alright?” The medic says.
No kidding, she's experiencing brain fog. It’s probably the only reason she asked me to sit next to her.
Lina nods.
“Name?”
“Evangelina Everhart.” I didn’t even know Lina was short for something.
The medic ties a blue tourniquet around her upper arm, and Lina winces when she places the IV.
“Date of birth?”
“March 13th, 2005.”
“Do you have any medical conditions you’re aware of?”
She shakes her head.
“Have you been sleeping alright?”
Lina hesitates, which is why I say, “She hasn’t been sleeping.”
The medic jots it down on the clipboard. “Have you been stressed recently?”
Lina’s shoulders hitch slightly. “I guess. I don’t really know.”
She glances back and forth between Lina and the heart monitor she’s hooked up to.
“We’ll keep monitoring your vitals en route and get you some IV fluids.
You’re severely dehydrated and hypotensive.
Could be exertional syncope followed by a seizure—possibly brought on by exhaustion or electrolyte imbalance.
But the doctors will know more once they run labs. ”
“I had a seizure?” Lina looks toward me, confused.
“Yeah.” I don’t know what more to say.
Her expression looks pained, like there’s a magnitude to the situation that she’s only now being forced to grapple with. I don’t even entirely know what’s going on, and yet it’s weighing down on me. I can’t even imagine how she’s feeling.
“Okay.” She nods strongly. “ Okay .”
“Hey”—I reach for her hand—“it’s alright. I’m sure it was nothing.”
“My teeth feel like they’re humming,” she says suddenly, looking around with a wide-eyed expression. “Why do my teeth feel like they’re humming?”
“You might still be in a postictal state, dear,” the medic tells her. “It happens a lot of the time after you’ve had a seizure. It’s not abnormal to feel confused and tired.”
Lina eases a bit at that, seeming to understand as she leans her head back against the gurney, tilting her head up and closing her eyes.
“I want my mom,” she whispers, a single tear tracking down her cheek. “I want my mom.”
My heart feels like it’s become lodged in my throat. I want to fix this for her—to take away the pain she’s feeling—but I feel entirely helpless.
“I’m sure we can call?—”
“No,” I cut the medic off. “She passed away.”
I only know because Braxton mentioned it. Lina never has, but now I can see why. She’s not over it, not even close.
The medic looks a bit taken back, pursing her lips as she continues looking over Lina. “Like I said, I’m sure she’s just confused because of the seizure right now, coupled with the fact that she hasn’t had much sleep.”
“Right.” I use my thumb to rub Lina’s falling tears away, smoothing it down her cheek and across her jaw.
She leans into my hand, and I know she’s likely seeking comfort from the closest source.
I’m not dense. I don’t believe this is going to be some magical moment where a switch flips in Lina’s mind and she suddenly doesn’t have any reservations toward me.
The only reason it’s me she’s leaning on is because, like the medic said, she’s tired and confused.
Her nervous system is temporarily traumatized, grasping at straws.
I grit my teeth until they hurt while I look at her. I’m pissed at myself because I’ve known for weeks that she’s been running at obscure times, likely running on little to no sleep.
I’ve watched as this girl ran herself into the ground. To the point where she passed out and had a seizure in my arms.
If that doesn’t trigger every fear I’ve been trying to get over for the last four years, I don’t know what will.
When I tilt my head down to look at the floor, I feel Lina shift to look at me.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, still choked up.
I give her a firm look. “Don’t apologize.”
“I did this.”
Yeah, she did. But was it on purpose? I doubt it.
And I won’t sit here and blame a girl for struggling. Not a day in my life.
“Nobody is going to blame you,” I tell her. “Especially not me.”
“We’re nearly at the hospital,” the medic tells me. “She’s going to be okay.”
I look at Lina again, and she’s still watching me. Her face is pale, damp with sweat and tears, but her gaze—God, her gaze is clear. Hollow and raw and terrified, but clear.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she whispers.
“You’re just tired,” I tell her, though we both know it’s more than that.
Her lips part like she wants to say something else, but the doors swing open behind us. A blast of cold air rushes in, and two nurses are suddenly reaching for the gurney.
“Evangelina, we’re going to wheel you into the ER now, okay? You’re in good hands.”
She doesn’t answer them. She just keeps looking at me like she’s afraid of what’s going to happen when I’m not with her.
The nurse looks between us, like she’s trying to read the situation. I wish her luck because even I have no clue what’s happening here.
“I’m coming,” I promise, already stepping out of the way so they can maneuver her out. “I’m not going anywhere.”