Page 5 of Hate On

Roman stood up at the side of the bed, politely backing away. He said, “Hello, sir,” as Julianna’s father approached.

The man gave him a polite nod but said nothing as he settled on the edge of the bed, close to where Roman had been just a few moments earlier. “How are you doing, Julianna?”

“I feel better.” She smiled at him. “I hardly cough anymore. Are you going to take me home?”

They didn’t give a direct answer. Roman managed not to roll his eyes about it, but he knew what that meant. She wasn’t going home. Once she was better, she was going back to the boarding school.

Julianna’s mother looked over at him finally and offered him a smile. “Hello,” she said in a pleasant, soft voice. “I’m Mrs. Castle. I hear you’ve been keeping Julianna company—strep throat is making its rounds.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded at her, his eyes straying over to Julianna.

She was trying to still smile, but the glow had left her eyes. Apparently, she knew what that lack of answer meant, too. Poor kid.

As her father looked me over, he remained quiet.

“What’s your name, son?” he asked.

“It’s Roman, sir.”

He nodded at Roman. “Sounds like you’re from the States, just like Julianna. Are you attending school over here?”

“Yes, sir.” Roman offered the name of the school. “I’ve attended since first grade.”

“It’s an excellent school, I hear.”

“Yes, sir.”

They spoke a few more minutes, the polite small talk that adults make with children they don’t know, then Roman rubbed at his head, claiming that his head was hurting. Retreating to the bed, he stretched out and grabbed the blanket that was neatly folded at the foot of the bed.

He wasn’t tired, but he could fake it.

Rolling over onto his side, he tried not to listen as Julianna’s mother fussed over her.

It had been a long time since his mom had fussed over him…

* * *

At the soundof raised voices, Roman jerked awake.

A quick look out the window showed a sky awash with the colors of sunset. Getting late, but not quite night. He wasn’t sure what time it was other than that. He must have fallen asleep. His head wasn’t hurting much at all and he might have been grateful for that, except the sound of a young girl’s labored breathing had him scowling.

Julianna’s asthma was acting up.

She’d been doing so much better.

What the eff was wrong?

He kicked his legs out of bed and stood, ignoring the spinning in his head as he strode to the foot of his bed so he could see around the partially drawn curtain.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “You’re upsetting Julianna.”

“Roman, go back to bed,” his father bit off.

He jerked to attention at the sound of his father’s voice. Earlier he’d been thinking that he’d almost missed his parents, but now he wished his mom and dad were on the other side of the globe. “Hello, sir,” he said politely, ignoring the order. “How are you?”

“Son,” Michael Montrose said stiffly. “I asked you to go back to bed.”

“Yes, sir.” He nodded again, but couldn’t stop himself from looking over at Julianna. Her shoulders were rising and falling rapidly with the struggle it took to breathe. “She’s having trouble breathing. She probably needs the nurse to get her another breathing treatment before she starts to wheeze.”

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