Page 59 of For Eva

His voice faded and the mic fell on the floor, sending a shriek of feedback through the venue as his body began to sway. I charged toward him to tell him to get his fucking shit together. That he wasn’t going to take me down with his goddamn sinking ship. But when I opened my mouth to speak, his head slumped forward, and he clutched his chest. An eerie silence fell over the crowd as Eric staggered, his eyes meeting mine for a fraction of a second before he collapsed onto the stage. The thud of his body hitting the ground echoed like a gunshot, and my blood went cold as a single agonizing scream pierced my brain.

TWENTY-FIVE

Eva

August 1989

“Eric!” A force gripped my lungs and squeezed all the air out of me. I gasped for breath, staring at his body crumpled on the floor, as the band and crew hurried over to him.

People called his name. Shook him. Cried for help. But I’d gone silent. I was underwater, my vision blurry and the sounds muffled. Keith pushed past me, bringing me to the surface, and my eyes darted to the audience, surfers in a rough sea, struggling to keep their own heads above water as a wave of confusion crashed over them.

No. They can’t see him like this. He wouldn’t want this.

“Hide him,” I said, my voice shaky and small. I cleared my throat. “Keith, tell them to hide him.”

Keith turned to me, his chest heaving.

“I can help,” I shrieked out in a voice I almost didn’t recognize as my own.

He barked orders at the people standing around, who shuffled to form a human shield, blocking Eric from the crowd.

I pushed my way behind the blockade and looked down at Eric’s body. His eyes were closed, and he was still.So still. I knelt beside him, my entire body trembling. I hadn’t done this in forever, and it wasn’t even on a real person. Did I remember? Was summer lifeguard training really enough to save someone?

I tossed my hair over my shoulder and put my ear to Eric’s lips, hoping to feel his breath against them. But there was nothing. I placed two fingers under his jaw and pressed them into his neck, moving them along his skin, checking unsuccessfully for the thumping of a pulse. “Someone get the paramedics.”

“Is he okay, Eva?” Matt asked. “What’s going on?”

“Just fucking get them!”

“They’re coming,” someone said from above me.

I nodded my head, trying my damndest to focus.Fuck.Was it compressions first? I searched the furthest corners of my mind, attempting to remember what our instructor had told us.Yes. Fifteen compressions, then two breaths.

I centered my shaking hands, one on top of the other, over his chest and locked my elbows.Come on, Eva, you can do this.I pressed down with the force of my body weight and began to count.One, two, three…

Sweat formed on my brow as I tried to block out the chatter of the people around me. Someone shouted for the rest of the group to be quiet, and soon there was just the breathy sound of my voice.Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen…What’s next?

I tilted Eric’s head back and pinched his nose, sealing my mouth over his, tasting the whiskey on his lips before blowing a puff of air into him.

Do it again.

I leaned down to see if he was breathing and felt for a pulse. But the only sound I could hear was my heart pounding in my ears.

No. No, no, no.

“You can’t die, Eric,” I choked out. “Please don’t die.”

Tears spilled over my lids as I began compressions again, the numbers getting caught in my throat, my arms aching. I repeated the breaths, then the compressions, then the breaths. I wiped at my eyes before placing my ear to his mouth once again and pressing two fingers to his neck.

The salt from my tears stung my dry lips as I bore down on his chest. I’d lost all concept of time, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that I didn’t stop.

Through my watery vision, I saw my mother lying crooked like a broken mannequin on the pavement. A thick, dark pool formed beside her, staining her golden hair crimson. I was trying to stand, to tell the men I knew CPR and I could save her. But they kept pushing me down, holding my arms as I cried for them to let me help her.

“That isn’t what she needs,” they said. “You can’t save her.”

Four, five, six…

“Let go of me, I want my mom,” I begged.

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