Page 59 of Don't Leave Me
George walked out of the room. I looked at Marc again and didn’t see how that was going to work at all. At best, I was struggling to get him to take sips of water. Which, I thought in George’s absence, I might try again. Rest, aspirin and fluids. That’s what the doctor had said.
I sat on the side of his bed, trying not to jostle him. But as soon as I sat, he reached out to grab me around the waist.
“Ash?” His voice was hoarse from all the coughing.
“It’s me. You’ve got the flu. It’s bad, but George and I are taking care of you. I need you to take a few sips of water.”
I held up the cup and maybe he took a small sip on the straw I pressed against his lips, but it was hard to tell. He pulled me in closer to him, which was strange.
“Don’t leave, Ash.”
“I’m not going anywhere. But if your fever doesn’t break, George is going to take you to the hospital.”
“No, no hospital. Just stay with me. You’ll stay?”
The urgency of his tone was sharp. Marc never talked to me that way unless I’d annoyed him.
“I’ll stay,” I assured him. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise. You have to drink some water because you’re sweating a lot. Not going to lie, either, it’s a little gross. You’re so out of it right now, you probably won’t remember I said that.”
He was out of it. His eyes were glassy and out of focus, and, even though he was looking at me, it was doubtful he could hear me.
I held the cup with the straw to his mouth again, but he turned his head away, coughing even harder.
“You have to drink, Marc.”
“Just stay. Don’t leave,” he insisted.
I looked over my shoulder in anticipation of George coming into the room at any moment. As the moments ticked by, Marc settled a little when I put a cool hand to his brow. I bent down close to his ear and said it so fast I could deny it if I had to.
“I’m never going to leave you. I love you.”
There. The words, the real words I’d felt for so long, that probably nobody would believe because I was only fourteen, were finally out in the universe.
“Ash, don’t leave. Never leave. Love you.”
My eyes got wide as I heard him say the words, even though I knew he was out of it. What did that mean? When you had a crazy fever, did the thoughts in your head change? Or did you not have any control over them?
George came in a few minutes later with soup that Marc wouldn’t eat. But at least the medicine kicked in, and his fever started to go down. He fell asleep and George tried to get me to go home, but I was stubborn.
Marc told me not to leave, so I wasn’t going to leave.
Had he been parroting the words I said to him? Or had he meant them? Despite his words, I’d always known he needed me in fundamental ways.It could be true,I thought. I decided to hold those words inside me, locked tight, where, no matter what he said to me tomorrow, they’d be safe. I could take them out and examine them any time I wanted to. This was my secret.
Finally, I got so tired, I fell asleep at the bottom of his bed.
* * *
The next morning
Ashleigh
“What the hell, Ash?”
It was all the warning I got before I felt a foot being planted in the middle of my back, pushing me the inches required to remove me from the bed. The bed was low to the ground, so it wasn’t much of a drop. Just enough to sting my hip and bring me fully awake.
I scrambled up and looked at a scowling Marc. His eyes were clear. His cheeks weren’t flushed. The fever had fully broken.
“What are you doing sleeping on my bed? Not cool. Does your father know you’re here? That alone could get you in trouble.”
