Can you just lay with me? I feel real fuckin bad right now.
He grabs my hand and places it on his heart. It pounds under my palm, which makes my own kick up another notch. Fear grips me in a chokehold so intense I bite the inside of my cheek so I don’t cry. This motherfucker is about to be my undoing.
He needs a doctor. What am I supposed to do if he dies on me? Vomit curls in my stomach. Hecannotdie.
He leads me to the bed and climbs on. I lie next to him. We’re facing each other, my hand still pressed to his heart. I need to know it’s beating.
“You should go to the hospital. You could be overdosing,” I say quietly, nibbling on my lip hard enough to taste blood. He taps my lip and shakes his finger at me, telling me no. I go back to reading on my phone, but the internet is a scary place. Some articles assure me he probably ishaving a heart attack, or at the very least doing irreparable damage to his heart and brain. Others say he’s fine and the effects will wear off in a day or two, especially if it was only one line of coke.
I can tell it’s hard for him to sit here, too. He’s fidgeting and sweating, and breathing so damn fast it’s making me nauseous. This is the bar incident all over again, only worse because I know he did something and there’s nothing I can do to help him.
He sends me another message, forcing me to stop reading the articles on Reddit that are freaking me out.
Travis:
Put your phone down
“Tell me about your symptoms first, and answer honestly or I’m calling Penn,” I threaten and he tenses, glaring at me. “Do you have a fever?” He shakes his head. I press the back of my hand to his forehead. He’s sweaty but doesn’t feel hot. “I already know you’re nauseous. Any hallucinations?” Another shake of his head. I’m not sure I can even trust his answers, but he doesn’t seem to be experiencing that one. “Do you feel thirsty? Like you’re dehydrating? Experiencing vertigo or tremors?” Another “no.”
“You’re awake, so not unconscious. No seizure. Oh my God, you could have a seizure!?” I nearly scream. “I’m not equipped to deal with that, Travis. I’m calling someone.”
He wraps his arms around me, rubbing his hands up and down my back, as if he’s trying to soothe me. Somehow, we went from me taking care of him, to him calming me down. I start hyperventilating. He squeezes me harder. I can feel his heart beating wildly against my cheek, and it makes my nerves skyrocket. He cradles the back of my head, stroking my hair.
I push him back. “I’m ok. You’re the one who’s not ok. You need a doctor or?—”
“St-o-p,” he wheezes.
“Hey! Don’t talk!”
He rolls his eyes and aggressively yanks his phone from his pocket.
Travis:
I’m feeling a little better. No doctor. No Penn!
“But—”
He gives me a hard look and continues to type.
Travis:
I’m already on probation. If they get wind of this I’m out of the band. I can’t be out Ellie. This is all I’ve got. They’re all I’ve got. I swear I won’t do it again. It was stupid but I’m ok.
I stare at him. He looks remorseful and slightly scared. I want to believe him, but I’m not sure I can. I don’t think they’d really kick him out of the band. They wouldn’t be the same without him.
“Fine, but the minute I notice something funny, I’m calling an ambulance.”
He nods and we place our phones down. He kicks his shoes off. I slip my heels off, then get under the blanket. I rest my head on his chest, continuing to monitor his heart. Grabbing the remote, I put on Animal Planet, hoping somehow that will cure him. I know it’s not logical thinking, but it does seem to calm him down after a few minutes.
I’m notsure how much time has passed. Travis is sleeping. I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse. I’m lying on my side, watching him breathe, my hand firmly over his heart. It’s slowed to a more steady rhythm, but I refuse to move my hand.
A few minutes later, there’s a knock at my door. I carefullyslip off the bed and Travis doesn’t stir. I check the peephole and see Penn on the other side. Oh, shit.
I crack the door and poke my head through the small space. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Have you seen Travis?”
“Uh…” I start to drum up a lie, but his eyes slide past me. There’s not much space he can see through, but he manages to make out Travis’s body on my bed. He looks back at me. There’s not an ounce of emotion on his face. No surprise, judgement, or anger.
