Page 9 of A Series of Rooms
Leo was flat on his back, just as he had been the last time Liam looked over, but this time his eyes were wide open, darting across the ceiling as if they were the only part of him capable of movement. His body was rigid, convulsing around each gasp for air, none of which were deep enough to fill his lungs. A particularly strangled sound from his throat prodded Liam into action.
“Leo?” he said, scrambling out of bed. “Hey. Are you awake?”
Liam’s sudden proximity must have triggered something, because from the corner of his eye, Liam caught a flash of movement. Leo’s hand twitched against the duvet like it was being electrocuted; quick, desperate jerks of motion from a body that was otherwise out of his control.
“Leo?” he tried again, louder, but nothing seemed to break through.
Taking a chance and praying that he wouldn’t make things worse, Liam reached up and clasped Leo’s hand between both of his own, squeezing tight.
“It’s okay,” he repeated. “You’re okay. You need to wake up. Please, wake up.”
Finally,finally, Leo’s frantic eyes cut over to catch Liam’s. The moment of connection seemed to bring him closer to the surface.
“There you go,” Liam encouraged. “Can you move? Can you nod your head or something?”
Slowly, as if afraid to find out the answer for himself, Leo jerked his chin up then down. Just once, but it was enough to break whatever paralysis had been cast over him. Leo came back to himself in a rush, scrambling to a half-sitting position against the headboard. Liam rose to his feet and hovered nearby, unsteady and unsure. At his side, his fingers throbbed from the strength and sudden release of Leo’s grip.
Leo drew in a few more ragged breaths, though they were beginning to level out, each one pulling deeper than the last.
“Are you okay?” Liam started to ask, but before he could complete the thought, both of Leo’s arms shot out toward him, clutching Liam around the middle. Leo buried his face in the material of his shirt, which soaked through with tears in seconds. Liam could feel Leo’s whole body shaking. Slowly, carefully, he raised his hands to reston Leo’s back.
There was a snapshot of a moment, frozen in time, where Liam marveled at the path his night had taken: from catching a stranger’s eyes in a dirty bathroom mirror, to holding him as he fell to pieces in a hotel bed.
When his back began to ache from the angle, Liam lowered himself onto the edge of the bed, watching for signs of distress. Liam couldn’t see the clock from where he sat, but they stayed like that long enough for Leo’s panic to subside to a steady baseline.
He had been sure that Leo was asleep again when Liam felt the soft vibration of murmured words against his chest.
“What?” he whispered, blinking back to awareness.
“I said my name isn’t Leo.” He fell quiet again for so long that Liam thought that was the end of the thought. Then, even more quietly, he added, “It’s Jonah.”
Liam let his head fall back against the headboard, turning this new piece of information over in his mind.
His lips parted in sudden realization.
Jonah and the whale.
When Liam woke, it was to an empty bed and, upon further inspection, an empty room.
He turned over his shoulder, the sheets falling away as he blinked the sleep from his eyes. He strained to listen for any sound coming from the bathroom, and when he found none, his eyes shifted to the nightstand.
Leo’s—Jonah’s—sparse personal items were gone. In their place was a single sheet of hotel stationery with a note written in pen, resting on top of a neatly-folded pile of borrowed pajamas:
Liam,
Thanks for everything.
Happy birthday.
Your friend,
Jonah
CHAPTER 3
Liam
The car ride home was stuffy with tension and the aftermath of bad decisions. The smell of liquor and misery permeated the air around Ben and Nathan, strong enough still to make Liam grab for the keys before they left. Nathan had refused and climbed into the driver’s seat anyway.
