Page 54 of The Significance of Moving On

“She’s breathing,” I tell the dispatcher. “But it’s shallow. Really shallow. She’s pale and limp.”

“Did she take anything?”

“We don’t know. We woke up in this strange place. I just don’t know.”

“Calm down, you’re doing great. If she’s breathing then we are going to wait for rescuers. Where are you?”

“I don’t know we’ve never been here before. Pam. Ann. Find mail. We need an address.”

We open drawers in the kitchen, on every table and shelf in the living room until Pam finds a bill in the bedroom.

“Seventeen fifty-six North Bayshore.” I yell into the line. “We’re at seventeen fifty-six North Bayshore. Apartment twenty-six twenty-three.”

“Good thinking on the mail. We have paramedics on the way. Stay on the line with me, okay?”The sweet quality of the dispatcher’s voice keeps me from losing it right now.

“Yes. Sure,” I say back.

“How is she now?”

“Breathing even shallower. Blue around her lips. Should I do something?”

“No. As hard as it is, even though they aren’t deep breaths, we need to wait for paramedics.”

I can hear the sirens blaring down from the street or the parking lot below. We’re going to save her. I couldn’t save Tom. I can save Kelsey.

Sometimes life can be beautiful. Full of promise of a future to come but more times than not we are forced to witness the ugly and I can’t decide which I’m witness to right now. The paramedics push through the door immediately moving me aside as they assess my friend and start working.

“What’s her name?” The medic closest startles me.

“Kelsey.”

“Kelsey. Kelsey, did you take something?”

“She’s nonresponsive,” I tell him stating the absolute obvious.

And then they have this mask on her to help her breathe better, transferring Kels to the stretcher.

“We all can’t go in the ambulance,” I say to Pam and Ann. “I’m not leaving her.”

Pam keeps wringing her hands together, like the rest of us trying not to pull a major freak out. She asks the medic, “What hospital?”

The second paramedic turns to look at her. “U Miami Medical is the closest.”

“I’m calling a cab.” Ann sounds very disconnected, which is scarier. It’s like she’s given up already. I want to grab her and shake her by the shoulders but at the same time, she’s started scrolling through the internet browser on her phone which means she can’t have given up all hope.

All we did was go out to the club last night. That’s what I find myself telling the admitting doctors or nurses or whoever they are. Time slips. Because in one eye blink I’m in the apartment. Then in another we are in the back of an ambulance. And now they’re trying to decide what to do for my best friend on how to save her life. Like I said, time slips.

They kick me out of the room which isn’t actually a room but a space separated from other spaces by curtains. What am I supposed to tell Demetrius? God, do I even call him?

Her parents haven’t answered one of the umpteen phone calls the hospital has made. I knew they wouldn’t let me stay with her or keep me up on her condition if we weren’t family so I told them I’m her sister. There’s nothing to tell right now. They have to save her life first. One of the nurses leads me to a waiting area where I sit facing the doorway in case they come in with news.

Pam and Ann walk through and take seats on either side of me. The three of us lean forward with our arms on our laps holding hands. None of us speaks. Scenes of last night finally start to flash blurred images in my mind.

The first is when we were at her dad’s club. Then it’s seeing Daniel. Leaving with Daniel—but no matter how hard I try, I can’t remember anything after the third club. Daniel took us to that private room in back. That’s when he started buying us drinks.

Could someone have slipped something in our drinks? It feels like forever. Like I’ve been waiting for news for days. Kelsey’s doctor finally makes his appearance. His words fly at me and with everything, the trauma of finding my unresponsive friend and my head still pounding to boot, I’m lucky to hear anything at all.

But here they are floating in the space between us: Stabilized. Ecstasy. Lucky. And then they are asking me questions. People always have questions. My head nods as if I understand their words that my brain can’t process. When I stand, I get this sudden drop in blood pressure and stumble backward, dizzy, onto the chair behind me.

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