“I called them yesterday… I told them you weren’t eating or sleeping.” I’m about to interrupt but she sees, and speeds up her words. “That was the only phone call, I swear, and Zeek just text me asking if you’re still in pain and I haven’t replied! But I’ll tell him whatever you want, or nothing at all, I’ll just leave him on read if—”
“Breathe, Kacey.” She does, in three quick pants. Then my expression softens, and I lower my voice. “You knew I was in pain… all this time?”
She wets her lips, then nods.
I drop my gaze. “I’m sorry I put that burden on you.”
“It wasn’t—isn’t a burden!” She leaps from the sofa, drops to her knees on the carpet and shuffles towards me. Mr Bear stays behind the sofa but watches her. “But you feel… better, right?” she ventures.
Do I feel better? Maybe. The tightness in my chest has eased a little, and each breath feels fuller.
“I guess.” I shrug. “A bit.”
“Are we going to admit why you feel ‘a bit’ better?” she hedges sweetly, tilting her head.
No, we are not, I say in my head, resolute.
Kacey sighs as she notes my expression, sitting back on her heels. “Do you want me to reply to Zeek?”
“You know him, Kace,” I begin, her features softening at those words. There’s no bitterness, not anymore, not now I understand. “What would happen if you didn’t reply?”
“Well…” She glances at her phone and her eyes bulge. “Oh no.”
“What?” I lean closer.
“His last text was nearly an hour ago,” she mutters. “And now I’ve got…tenmore messages. Fromallof them.” She turns the screen towards me. “The last one says—”
Kane: Reply to Ezekial. You have until 11pm.
I glance at the time, 10:58 PM. What happens at 11?
We both look at one another, we don’t know, but neither of us wants to find out.
“Tell him I’m fine.”
Kacey hastily types out my words, sends, then lets out a long sigh.
A few seconds later, she has another message, and she instantly turns it to me.
Ezekial: I don’t believe you. Why did you take so long to reply?
Kacey’s mouth opens and closes as she looks between me and the phone, trying to form words—
Zeek’s name appears on her screen, flashing.
She flinches, launching her phone into the air. We watch it fall, thudding onto the carpet, spinning as it vibrates.
“What do wedo?!” she screeches, staring at the thing like it’s diseased. “I’m an awful liar, I’m sweating—I can’t breathe!”
“Answer it.”
She turns to me, frantic. “And say what?!”
“That I’m fine.”
“He doesn’t believe me!”
The buzzing stops. Silence reigns. Kacey’s quick breaths fill the room.
