Page 17 of Ms. Lead

BIANCA

I CAN’T BREATHE

Almost as soon as I pull out of the casino driveway, my brother calls.

“Hey, Enzo, what’s up?” I cringe inwardly, knowing he will want to talk about Oliver. I am not in the mood for this right now.

“Hey yourself, I just wanted to check in on my baby sister. Any…news?” He doesn’t need to say it. I know what, or more specifically, who he’s referring to.

“Nope. No news. I think your wires are crossed, bro.”

He chuckles. “Bro? Since when am I your “bro?” That means something bad happened. Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” The last thing I want to do right now is talk about how wrong he is about Oliver and how disappointed and hurt I am by it all. Dwelling on all of that isn’t going to be productive or help me get over it.

“Okay, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.” That’s what I love about my brother. He knows when to push and when to let things go with me. He’s so intuitive about this stuff. It makes me jealous. I wish I was so insightful. Then maybe I could figure out what’s going on with Oliver. But I’m not so lucky.

We hang up, and when I’m almost back to the depot, my phone rings again, and I see that it’s Connor, the valet at Bliss Casino. I answer with the hands-free.

“Hey Connor, what’s up?”

“Hey Bianca, this is Connor at Bliss.” He sounds distracted.

I shake my head and laugh to myself. “I know, Connor. What’s up? Does your wife know you have my number?”

“Your boyfriend just got carted off to the hospital.”

It takes me a minute to realize who he’s talking about, and when it hits me, my breath catches. “Oliver? What happened?”

“I don’t know his name, but it was the guy you had dinner with last night. I think he was still out when they took him, too, but I can’t be sure.” Connor sounds upset, which isn’t like him. He’s usually a cool cucumber about everything, so it makes my anxiety amplify. But he still hasn’t told me what happened.

“Connor, why was he out? You haven’t told me what happened.” My imagination runs wild with crazy ideas of what could have gone wrong.

“Right after you left, he fell on the sidewalk and hit his head. There was a lot of blood….”

I’m stunned and have to pull to the side of the road. Oh my god, what the hell would make him fall like that? Did he just trip? I need to go to him.

“What hospital?”

“I think St. Rose. It’s closest.”

Disconnecting the call, I make an illegal U-turn in front of several cars. Horns are blaring at me, but I don’t care. I have to see if Oliver is okay. I have to be there for him. It feels like my chest has been ripped open, and my heart was stolen. I’ve never felt like this before, so worried about someone else’s well-being. I’ve been concerned for people, sure, but not like this. This is on another level entirely.

The hospital isn’t far, and I get there in a matter of minutes, thanks to a bit of stretching of the speed limit. I park and sprint to the Emergency Room.

I do not like hospitals. And not just a normal, ‘eww, hospitals are gross,’ I mean, it’s almost to the point of a phobia how much I dislike them. Besides babies, nothing good ever happens at a hospital. It’s an irrational loathing that I fully recognize, but I’ve never claimed to be rational.

When I approach the front desk, I have to wait a full five minutes before one of the intake nurses is free. During that time, my anxiety skyrockets to an all-time high. Knowing that Oliver is in this building somewhere strange to him and in an unknown condition that might be life or death, I have to wait to see him. I am not handling this well, on top of my original anxiety about hospitals.

“I’m here to see about Oliver Bellamy. He was brought here by ambulance not long ago?” I don’t see the point in covering my emotions to this nurse. I’m sure she’s seen it all. My hysteria is nothing new.

“Let me check, hon. One sec.” She’s so casual. Like the end of the world isn’t happening right now. “Are you Normandy Carmichael?”

The name surprises me, and I jerk back reflexively when I hear it. Why would she think I’m Normandy?

“No. I’m Bianca Torino. I was just with Oliver this morning before this happened.”

She studies me briefly with a look of complete disinterest.

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