Page 99 of Puck Block

“I’m wondering the same,” Emory adds. “Of course she took her insulin.”

Ford stands up and collects our plates. “I think we’d know if she didn’t,” he says through an airy chuckle. He turns the water on at the sink and starts to wash our dishes before my mom sends him away and finishes. “It would be obvious because she’d probably pass out or go into DKA. It would be totally unsafe, and she wouldn't do something to jeopardize her own health. Right, Taytum?”

I narrow my eyes.Is he testing me?

“Right,” I answer, letting the word pop out of my mouth with force.

My mom dries her hands on the towel and sighs. “Okay, but after last night, I just worry that you’ll do something rash because of the cost of your medicine. It’s not for you to worry about. Just take what you need, and if you need to change your medication, we will figure it out.”

“But that’s where you’re wrong,” I argue. “It’smymedicine. Of course I’m going to worry about it.” I leave out the part where I feel absolutely sick over the fact that they’re selling my childhood home to afford everything.

“Taytum,” my mom stresses.

I sigh and decide to let it go. “Okay. Let’s just drop it.”

She grabs my hand and squeezes three times,I love you. “We’ve got it figured out. You just go to the pharmacy when you're due to fill the prescription, and it’ll be taken care of. We need to get your levels straightened out.”

I look over at Ford briefly, and he’s staring directly at me with a flexed jaw. I pull my attention back to my mom and fake a smile. “Okay, Mom. I love you.”

Her hug lasts for a long time, and behind her shoulder, I watch Ford leave the kitchen to follow after my brother, who is likely already in the car, waiting for us to scramble inside so he can get to practice on time.

“I’ll let you know when we get in,” I say, turning the corner.

I’m almost to the front door when a hand lands on my elbow and tugs me into the foyer.

“What are you doing?” I ask, looking from Ford to the hallway that leads to the kitchen.

“Do I need to start checking your injection sites to make sure you’re actually taking your insulin? I checked your levels, and they’re still all over the place.” His calm demeanor from last night is long gone, and in its place is my brother’s overprotective best friend.

I snatch my arm from his grasp. “Did you tell my parents?”

He pulls back, and I recognize the tiny slip of hurt that flashes across his face. “I told you I wouldn’t.”

My brother blares the horn, and both Ford and I look toward the window and see him in the driver’s seat of his car, waiting impatiently for us. “I know. But then she acted like–”

Ford steps closer, and I stop talking. His thumb goes under my chin, and he tilts my face to his. “You have my word, Tay. I’m not going to ruin your trust by telling them something you asked me not to. Youaretaking your insulin, though, right?”

I nod. “I am. I don’t know why my levels are wonky. I’m trying to correct them.”

“You know why she asked you that?” he asks.

I shake my head.

“Because you’reyou.You’re selfless, loyal, and your heart is the size of Texas. I’ve never met someone who can care so much for others until I met you.” I open my mouth to deny his claim, but his grip on my chin tightens. “You should have hated me my senior year after I ruined your prom night.”

Oh God.I still hate when anyone brings up that godawful night.

“Except, you were the only one who attempted to snap me out of my panic, just hours later, when we were at the hospital.” He laughs under his breath. “I used to think it was your need toprove something to someone. Like you wanted to show the world that you could be the one to bring me out of my panic attack, but that’s not why you did it. It was because you cared about me.”

My heart slips. That night was the start of Ford Collins latching himself onto my soul. He’s been there for years, and I’ve refused to admit it aloud, but it’s true.

Another sound of the blaring horn makes us both jump. His hand falls away, and the wall goes back up. But before we walk out the front door and pretend like there’s nothing going on between us, he hooks a finger into my belt loop and pulls me backward until I hit his chest.

“When you’re ready to admit it, say the word.”

“Admit what?” I ask.

“That you care about me as much as I care about you.” He lets go of me and starts to walk past, but I stop him.

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