Page 106 of The Late Hit
Our conversation is interrupted when Coach Campbell comes striding into our room. He sees me holding the wastebasket.
“Need me to get a nurse?”
I just shake my head. He nods and makes his way over to the bed.
I don’t even listen to what he’s saying. All I can think about is getting out of the goddamn hospital and finding my girl.
It’sbeenfourdays.Four excruciatingly long days since Quinton went into the hospital.‘Seems everyone you love dies’plays over and over in my head. The only way I can get the words out of my head is when I’m high or drunk. When I’m faded, I can pretend that Quinton’s right beside me, drifting through the clouds. But as soon as that high wears off, I’m snapped back to a reality where I don’t know if my boyfriend is going to make it. I don’t know if I’ve killed another person who I love. So instead of staying with those thoughts, I reach for the bottle of tequila.
Classes drag on, and I barely make it through each day. As soon as class ends and I’m outside, I reach inside my purse and pull my vape pen to my lips to chase that high again. Everyone keeps checking on me, and it feels suffocating. I’m going through the motions. Wake and bake, Uber to class, smoke, come home, lay in the grass, smoke and drink, pass out, and repeat. I’m a zombie, but a life without Quinton is a life I don’t want to be a part of.
I’m lying in the grass, cold pizza next to me. I’ve finished my bowl, and I’m just chilling here looking at the sky. Tears stream silently from my eyes.
I see him.
See his light-brown skin, eyes that want to drink me in, and a dazzling smile that always makes me happy. We’re running through the sky, running away from reality. It’s just the two of us, running hand in hand. He pulls my arm, and I spin into him. Gripping my face, he’s just about to kiss me when dirty-blonde hair and crisp, moss-green eyes stare back at me.
I see his lips moving, but I can’t make out what they’re saying. It’s not until I’m being flung over his shoulders and carried into my house that I realize it’s Grant Campbell.
“Jesus, Brynn. You’re a fucking mess.”
He doesn’t stop once we’re inside. No, he continues to carry me up the stairs and into my bedroom. Pushing my bathroom door open with his foot, he carries me until he’s dropping me into my shower.
“Grant, what the fu—” I start, stopping as he reaches beside me and turns the nozzle. Cold water hits my fully dressed body, and I gasp from the shock of it. “What the fuck?!” I scream, scratching at his forearm, the one that was holding me under the water spray.
“Dammit, Grant. That’s not what we talked about,” Cody says, walking through the open bathroom door.
Grant doesn't let go of me, he just lets the water beat down on me while his other hand slowly turns the water toward the warmer setting.
“I don’t give a shit. I’m sick and tired of her pity party. Quinton’s awake and asking for his girlfriend.”
“Quinton’s awake,” I gasp out.
Grant’s icy stare finds mine, and his expressionless face stares down at me. He’s pissed. He might not be showing it, but I know him well enough to know that he’s so far past pissed right now.
“Yeah, Brynn,” he grits out. “Quinton’s awake, and you’d fucking know that if you’d quit self-medicating long enough to answer your goddamn phone. We’ve all been worried about Quinton, and you’ve gone and put more worry on us by self-destructing. You’ve been acting like you’ve already been to the wake when he’s been alert for almost a day now.”
My body sinks down the tiled wall, collapsing on the shower floor.
He’s awake.
He’s alive. Sobs erupt from my body, my shoulders shakes as I let myself finally feel. Cody’s pushing Grant aside, climbing into the shower next to me.
“A little fucking harsh, man,” Cody grits out, wrapping his arms around me.
“She needed to hear it,” is the only response Grant gives Cody. In the next instant, he’s dropping into a squat, reaching out to grip my chin, forcing my eyes to his. “Get cleaned up. Get sober. And be ready by eight o’clock tomorrow morning for me to pick you up. I’m taking you to see Quinton.”
I just nod.
Sometime after Cody leaves, I climb into bed after spending way too long in the shower scrubbing my body of all the guilt and idiocy. I pull my phone from where I stashed it in my nightstand drawer and power it on. So many text messages light up my screen. I don’t have the energy to open them all, but I stop on a few.
But it's the last one that has me pausing, and tears start streaming down my face.
I fall asleep with my phone clutched to my chest. Tomorrow, I get to see my favorite person again.
Right at eight, the doorbell rings. I knew Grant would be right on time. I mean, he’s almost always on time, but today I knew he’d be on time to prove a point. Sighing, I fling open the door.
“I just need two seconds,” I greet, reaching down to zip up my brown ankle boots.
