Page 102 of You Spin Me

“It’s okay,” she moans. “I always get sick after a show.”

“You said that.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Pushing her hair out of the way, she tries to sit up. When I put my arm around her waist to help her up, she gasps, and I almost drop her.

“Did I hurt you?”

“Not you.” She winces. “Ithurts.” Gingerly touching her right side, she blows out a long breath.

“What can I do? I feel like this is not something you can sleep off.”

She gasps, pressing into her side, and a tear runs down her cheek. “I guess”—she squeezes her eyes shut—“what time is it?”

“Hang on.” I run to the kitchen to check the clock. “It’s eight thirty,” I call as I grab a glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol.

When I return, she’s hunched over. “Can you call my sister?”

“Of course.”

By the time I’m back with the cordless phone, she’s on the ground, curled up in a ball. Sitting next to her, I brush the hair out of her face. “It’ll be okay, princess. I’m here.” She whispers her sister’s phone number. Once I get her on the line and quickly explain what’s happening, Esther asks to talk to Jess.

Jess mumbles answers into the phone and then hands it back to me.

“She needs to go to the ER,” Esther says without preamble. “If my sister is admitting she’s in pain, it’s bad. It’s hard to tell over the phone, but it could be her appendix or even an ectopic pregnancy. Either one could be fatal if it’s bad enough.”

The closest hospital is Mass General, good for Jess because it’s the best. Bad for me because the worst moments of my life took place there.

“I’ll call ahead,” Esther’s saying, “see if I can get her bumped up the line. Hopefully, I know someone who’s on tonight. And I’ll meet you there.” She hangs up without even saying goodbye.

Even though I pick Jess up as gently as I can, she bites her lip to suppress a cry of pain. I carry her over to the bed and then scrabble around until I find some soft sweats in the drawer I cleared out for her to keep clothes in. Getting them on her is like dressing a doll. She fights me when I try to get her in a coat, so I bring it along. Moments later, we’re back out the door and on our way to the hospital.

JESS

I thought I’d dealt with pain before. I’ve worked my muscles until they scream with pain. My feet ache every morning. I’ve pushed aside a throbbing pain in my lower back for weeks, not wanting to even think about the ways my body might be failing me. But the ride to the hospital, being carried in by Cal and then whisked away to an exam room, the entire time I wished I’d pass out, the stabbing pains were so awful and so relentless.

I guess I finally did because now Cal’s gone and I’m alone. Unfortunately, the pain’s still with me.

As I turn onto my side, shivering in the gown they put me in, even the crinkly paper under me hurts my skin. Squeezing myself into a ball, I beg my body to stop punishing me, promising it that I’ll be nicer if it’ll stop.

It doesn’t listen.

Soft blanket.Eyes open. Panic. Where am I? Pain.

“You’re in the ER, sweetie.”

My sister.

Pain stabs. Eyes shut. Hide again.

“I’m trying to get someone in here as fast as I can. Can you tell me what’s going on?”

I… can’t.

Where am I?

Sharp scent, hushed quiet. Tube in my arm.

Hospital. Pain dulled.

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