Page 54 of Laugh

Me: Whatever is going on, I hope it was important enough for you to not show up tonight. I’m trying not to be angry that you didn’t take a minute to let me know you weren’t coming. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. We’re about to eat dinner.

Chapter 20

I Don’t Understand

Haddie

~ A few hours earlier ~

After Beau called to tell me he wouldn’t be able to pick me up for tonight’s dinner, I did everything in my power to hide in my voice that I was upset. Not upset withhim, because I understand it was an emergency, but I was already riddled with anxiety over seeing his father again. I’m also desperate to make a good impression on his mom. How is it fair that I have to go to my first meet and greet of the ‘rents onlyweeksafter beginning a relationship with my very first, honest to God,realboyfriend?

One that I have SEX with and everything!

Rolling my eyes at myself over how childish my brain acts, I study the three outfits laid across my bed. The internal debate over which one screams ‘I’d be a phenomenal addition to your family’ has been violent. Different parts of me are picking different outfits for ridiculous reasons. There’s a fourth voice scolding me for thinking that being a part of the family is terribly presumptuous.

I hear my phone alert me that I have a text, and my heart beats faster, thinking it’s Beau. It’s not, but I’m just as happy to get a message from Marcus, until I read what he’s sent. My smile slowly falls into a deep frown the longer my eyes scan over my screen.

Marcus: Hey Harry. I think I need you to come over here. I thought I was getting the flu again a few days ago because I’ve been throwing up and had some terrible headaches, but this morning it got a lot worse. I haven’t been able to get out of bed without struggling. I called the walk-in clinic, and they said I should go to the emergency room because it sounds like I’m extremely dehydrated, and I shouldn’t drive. I need you to bring your key to get in because I don’t think I can get to the door. Please don’t hate me for the mess. I love you.

I’m frozen as I read the text over again.He didn’t say what he loves me more than…

Flicking my eyes up to the time in the corner of my phone, I realize that if I leave now and run, I can get to the bus before it leaves this hour. I grab my keys and purse, slipping on my flip-flops as I hurry out the door. Moving quickly to the bus stop, I send him a text back.

Me: I’ll be there in 20. I’ll never hate you because I love you more than Pooh loves honey.

I pick up my pace when he doesn’t answer me. Thank God, I make the bus just in time and settle into the seat, agitated within the first few minutes of the ride that we aren’t speeding. My thoughts are racing between worst- and best-case scenarios. He said he is nauseous, throwing up, and has a headache. That’s like… I run through the symptoms of all four diseases I know of and roll my eyes at how ridiculous I’m being. It’s the fucking flu.

Still, I still can’t stop the niggling feeling ofsomethingat the back of my head that I’ve fucked up somehow. He shouldn’t have been battling a stupid bug for this many weeks, right? Twenty minutes pass quickly as I zone out, trying to figure out why I’m feeling sick to my stomach over this. Marcus has been sick before. He’s had strep throat more times than I can count, and when we were in the sixth grade, he was in the hospital for like four days with pneumonia.

The keys to his place are in my hand when I jog up to his first-floor apartment and I’m shaking as I shove the key into the lock. I turn it until I hear the lock disengage and shove the door open. It stops halfway and I frown, pushing again, harder.This time it opens, but it’s heavier as I use the door to move whatever is behind it out of the way so I can go inside. Stepping in, I halt after two steps, ignoring the door as it closes on its own behind me.

“Jesus,” I whisper to no one.

I don’t understand…

My eyes fill with tears as the condition of my soul-fated friend’s apartment settles into my heart. Clutching my chest, I bend over to catch my breath. My God, I think I’m having my very first panic attack.I can’t breathe…

“Haddie?”

Jerking my head up, I squint through my hazy vision toward the back of the apartment where Marcus’s bedroom is. I choke out, “I-I’m here!”

I think I hear him sigh as I pick my way through the piles of papers, takeout bags, and delivery boxes. They’re all filled with more things that I don’t think are original to the box. He told me to expect the worst, so I’m going to ignore this for now. Once we get him fixed up, this can be the next on our agenda. Nothing a little elbow grease and a lot of trash bags won’t take care of.

As I enter his room, I suck in a breath and hold it as I study him. He’s lying in his bed on his side, and he looks like he’s aged years, but it’s only been like a week since I’ve last seen him. I thought he was looking a little pale before when he was in my apartment, but now, his skin is almost transparent white. Even his lips look bloodless, and I don’t know what to do.

“Marcus,” I whisper. “What do you need me to do? I know you need to go to the emergency room, but can you make it out of bed? Maybe I should call the ambulance.” Looking around his room, I see an empty duffle bag and start piling clothes inside. Then I move over to his side table to tear his phone charger out of the wall and shove it, along with his phone, inside as well. “I don’t know what you need, but I can come back if I need to. What should I do? Should I call 911?” I stare at him, pleading for him to tell me something, anything.

Groaning, he forces himself to sit up and I immediately rush over to his side to help balance him. “I can make it to the car if I can use your shoulder.” He looks up at me and winces at whatever look he sees on my face. “Are you mad at me for my apartment?”

“God no!” I cry. “I don’t care about your fucking apartment. This will only take a day or two to fix up for you. I care aboutyou. Are you sure you’re okay to walk?”

He nods slowly. I whip my hand out when he reaches for me and stands on wobbly legs. It takes him a few moments to balance himself, and when he’s got his feet under him, he smiles at me. Blowing out a breath in relief, I nod my head at him. “Okay, let’s get you to the car.”

Wrapping an arm around him, I pick up his bag with my free hand and we take our time inching our way out to his car. Thankfully, his keys were hanging on the hook by his front door, so we don’t need to waste any time looking for them.

Once he’s settled in the front seat, I hurry back to lock his door then hop into the driver’s seat. Marcus doesn’t talk during the drive. We ride in silence while I continuously shoot glances over at him, worried that he’s kept his eyes shut for the whole drive. Normally, falling asleep in the car makes him carsick, so he does everything he can tonotdoze off.

The moment I pull into the lot of the hospital, I decide to say fuck it and drive right up to the entrance to the emergency room. Keeping the car idling in park, I rest my hand over his and tell him in a soft voice, “I’m going to run inside and get someone to help us. Don’t go running off on me or anything.”

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