Page 86 of Then Came You

Row

♥?

“Thought you were staying at Blade’s tonight?” Tori coughs when I arrive home, the clanging of my keys and the slamming of the front door off its hinges alerting her to my presence. I kick off my shoes at the front door, careful not to traipse any mud inside.

I’d skated right past sad and straight onto mad over Blade’s reaction.

I smell like a wet dog, and I’m shaking like a leaf. I want to shower, but I need to get my head straight first, so I do the next reasonable thing and I strip down to my wet underwear and cover myself in a fluffy blanket.

Plonking down on the lounge next to her and snatching the barely eaten oats out of her hand, I go to town scooping copious amounts of the thick sludge on my spoon, shoving it in my mouth.

“Uh oh, what happened?” Tori treads carefully with her tone. I just shake my head, stuffing the warm goodness in my throat.

“Talk to me, sis,” she kicks my thigh with her bony feet.

After polishing off the plate, I face her.

“Xander caught us, and Blade did nothing. No. Whatever comes after nothing is what he did.” I set the plate aside and start pummelling the nearest pillow. Tori just lets me do my thing until my arms hurt, which isn’t long after I start because I’m bone-weary from the mammoth day.

“I don’t get it?”

“He said one line to Xan, then Xan basically abused us both, and Blade just shut off completely from the world. Wouldn’t let me touch him. Wouldn’t even look at me, let alone speak to me. It was just complete silence on his end. Even when his dad intervened, he just dismissed me like I’m some peasant. I mean, what the fuck?”

Pursing her lips, I know her mind is flicking through the carousel of possibilities.

“Row, it didn’t seem like Xan took it very well, so I’m sure Blade was just in shock,” she coughs, gently touching my arm with one palm, while the other flies to her mouth. In her hand is a tissue that looks like it has blood on it.

“When were you bleeding?” I ask immediately, my eyes roaming all over her body for a wound.

She eyes me with confusion until they dart to the tissue, fear emanating across her face when she realises there’s blood present.

“I…I…don’t know?” Her hand shakes and voice trembles.

Springing into action, I immediately try to soothe her, forgetting everything else that happened tonight. Rubbing her back, I reach for a glass of water so she can slowly sip the metallic taste away. “It’s okay, Tor, let’s go to the hospital just in case, yeah?” I thankfully sound casual about it, but my insides feel like they’re being set on fire.

“Ok.”

Helping her off the couch, I notice how weak she is. Weaker than this morning, and far weaker than yesterday.

“Have you eaten today?”

“I wasn’t hungry. I thought maybe the oats would help.” Helping her into fuzzy UGG boots, I resist and refrain from griping at her.

“Well, we’ll just eat a little something at the hospital. Sit. I need to get into something warm, then we’ll go.” I’m calm on the outside, but looking at the fragility of Tori, I’m basically a mental patient on the inside.

A few minutes later, I assist a skeletal Tori into the front seat of an Uber and wrap her in blankets. At this time of night, it won’t take too long to get to the hospital.

On the way over, sleep drags her under. As much as she tries to remain awake to keep me company, her exhaustion takes over. As our luck would have it, we get held up at every damn red light under the sun, stagnating our journey and adding on time that we don’t have.

When we finally pull up, I force Tori to lean on me as we walk through the doors of the emergency department.

“Wait here,” I instruct, leaving Tor on one of the sickly green vinyl chairs. I quickly scan the room, noticing there are about six other people waiting, none of whom seem as sick as Tori.

Stepping up to the register, I wait impatiently for the nurse to look up from the task at hand. I’ve been around my fair share of nurses, and while I think they’re the angels of any given hospital, the one sitting before me is the devil incarnate.

She’s a couple of years older than me, but still looks fresh out of university. Her bouncy red hair is straightened to perfection, and she has makeup caked on more suitable for a night out at the Cross. Her ruby pout looks like two frankfurts, and her matching nails are so long, I wonder how she does her job without puncturing a patient's lung.

There’s no way she doesn’t know I’m here. The door opened, a buzzer rang, I was loud enough to seat Tori and tell her I’d be back, and I clomped over, casting a shadow over her desk, yet she still hasn’t looked up.

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