Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 50770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
“Why are you yelling?” he asks.
“I’m yelling?” She looks at me.
“No.” I answer for him. “He’s literally just messing with you again, don’t let him gaslight, he’s too good at it, just grab all the shit that’s going to shit all over my arms and be quick about it, now that my fevers done I just want to go home.”
She nods. “See, you can be bossy!”
When she leaves, Zane comes and sits gently on the bed, here we go, I’m going to get a speech, I can feel it in my bones. He’s wearing ripped jeans and a white tank top that shows off his tattoos and his black beanie that has a skull on it isn’t really helping my mood.
“So.” He takes a deep breath. “I have a suggestion.”
“You and everyone else in this world.”
“I heard your parents aren’t back yet, and that you have an evil twin that might set you on fire any day now.”
My laugh escapes before I can help it. “She means well, I think, I mean, she just feels unseen and I can’t blame her for that, because I feel—“
“No need to justify other people’s feelings, especially people who aren’t kind, who only do the basics in order not to go to prison.” He sighs and runs a hand through his dark hair. “I’m going to be bossy right now, all right?”
“You weren’t before?”
“Very funny, just allow me to go into dad mode, okay?”
“Do you have jokes though? Because if not, then what’s the point of taking that journey?”
“There she is!” He holds up his hand. “High fives all day long, YO!”
“Never again, shall you ever repeat that sentence, oh wait, you passed, you are a dad, okay continue.”
“My hand’s still up here.”
“And there it shall stay until you tell me what your idea is.”
To his credit, he doesn’t lower it, instead he keeps his right hand held high, he has two gold rings on his pinky and one on his thumb, rockstars and their jewelry. “So, I think you should stay with Quinn, let him take care of you until you feel better. Being alone at your house, according to the doctors isn’t good, and your sister according to Quinn and you isn’t exactly Mother Teresa, I don’t have time or I would, plus the kid would just jump on your face and ask you to smell his butt for poop which I’m thinking isn’t exactly the healing journey you want to take, I mean just until your parents get back at the end of the week and yes I’m prying but, you can’t deal with…” He swallows and finally, slowly, lowers his hand. “Chloe, you can’t deal with lupus on your own when you’re like this, you need help.”
A tear slides down my cheek. “He doesn’t know.”
“Yes.” A new voice sounds. “He does.”
Quinn walks into the room with a bouquet of daisies and sets them on my bed, and then he stands in front of the white wall and smiles.
I burst into tears.
Crazy, ridiculous tears.
Because for the first time in five years.
Someone real is standing in front of the white wall.
And he’s here for me.
Chapter Seventeen
Quinn
I hear everything.
I wasn’t supposed to, but when Chloe didn’t respond and when Zane said that she was actually in the hospital, I couldn’t get to the car fast enough.
Just when I was ready to go in, he went in first.
I looked at her chart.
I know I shouldn’t have.
I asked questions I shouldn’t have asked of Zane that were probably illegal and when he went in and talked with her, when the nurse came out and gave me this, sad look that lacked all hope and happiness which didn’t match the conversation she’d earlier had with Chloe, I think a part of my heart broke.
I found my person.
And my person isn’t okay.
There are only two options here.
Help. Or run.
I’m assuming she’s used to the runners, but the jokes on her, I hate running, I’m more of a rowing sort of guy, which means I just row through my problems rather than run and try to forget them.
So I tell myself to do what I always do.
I row slowly through them, I deal with them, and I’m going to pick her up and put her in my boat. Even if she says it’s okay, that she can swim, I’ll put her in my boat.
Most of us, when drowning, always say we can make it, we refuse help, whether it’s weakness or pride, we try to keep swimming until we start to sink and even then as we see the border of water across the horizon, we decide it’s better to just breathe in the water, then scream out help.
I don’t want her to get to that place.
I’ve been to that place, it isn’t fun, and it isn’t an option. So I listen, and then I walk in.