“God, yes, I’m fine.” Waving Hansen’s hand away I sat up again, breathing evenly to keep the dizziness from crawling back up. “Just fatigue, I think.”
“You fainted because you’re tired?” said Hansen, and it didn’t take a genius to know that my uncle was doubting me. Hell, I was doubting myself.
“Anemia,” I said, as if that explained everything. “I’ve struggled with it forever. My iron must be low.”
Hansen said nothing to this as I sat all the way up and placed my feet firmly on the ground. He offered his hand to me, but I refused it, and instead made my way shakily to the kitchen for a cold bottle of water. I still felt nauseous, like I might still puke, but I shoved the sensation down and chugged some water instead. It didn’t seem to help.
“I’m going to go home early,” I said, capping the bottle of water. “Are the next medics already here for their shift?”
“They should be,” said Paisley. “Addy wanted to take you into the ER when you hit the floor, but Erik said you’d be pissed if you came to in the hospital.”
I glanced at my uncle, grateful, and not the first time, for his clever thinking. “Thanks,” I said, but he didn’t nod back. Didn’t even smile. He was worried, I knew he was. He was always worried about me.
“I think I made the wrong decision,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. “I think you should go in and find out why in the hell you passed out.”
“I already told you. I’m anemic.” Practically cowering down under my uncle’s sharp gaze, I gathered up my school bag and my jacket in the back room, then headed to the door. Paisley followed me, but Hansen didn’t, and for that I was glad. I knew that this moment would not just vanish; he would become overbearing and intense, stopping at nothing to find out what was wrong with his precious niece and why.
“Get some rest, Mace,” Paisley said, giving me a quick hug. “Keep us updated if it happens again, yeah?”
I met Hansen’s gaze over Paisley’s shoulder, but I couldn’t hold it. He knew I wouldn’t. I knew I wouldn’t.
“I will,” I lied, and then walked to my car, refusing to look back over my shoulder to face the worried gaze of my uncle. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do it because, truth be told, it had scared me, too.
Chapter 25
Jayce
Macey called me thenext morning to let me know that she wasn’t feeling well, and that she might stay home from classes today. She ignored my pleas to skip practice and take care of her, insisting that she’d get better faster if she could just sleep, even if that meant sleeping alone.
“I might have to cancel dress shopping, too,” she said, and even across the phone line, I could hear the fatigue—no,exhaustion—in her voice.
“Are you okay?” I asked, grabbing a protein shake from the fridge. “How did you know you were sick? Did you leave work early last night?”
“Fatigue,” Macey said. “Nausea. And yes, I did. I came home and crashed and didn’t wake up until about four minutes ago. I’m so freaking tired.”
“The flu, maybe?”
