“It’s perfect.” She nods, then glances somewhat vulnerably at Polly. “Right, Pol? You can still come?”
“You’re not leaving me behind. I’ll drive.”
Jordan walks them out, and even though there are still six of us—and Vivi—here, the room suddenly feels a lot emptier.
Blaise joins me, his gaze on Phil. “What did the note say?”
I swallow hard. “It was a threat. Some other crap that made no sense.” Did it? I try to remember the exact wording.
“Fuck. I don’t want to offend you, but does your place have security?”
Not as much as I wish it did, right now. “An alarm system. It’s pretty basic, but it’ll go off if anyone tries to break in. And Vivi barks whenever I get visitors. Even if someone gets past the alarm, she’ll let us know they’re there.” She’s sleeping with us until this is over.
“Good. That’s good. Calla’s going to pack a bag for Phil and bring it back here. If he feels communicative again in the next hour, he can send her a list of what he wants. Otherwise, she’ll wing it.” He pauses, and I get the feeling he’s weighing his words.
“I’m not going to get offended if whatever you want to say is for Phil’s well-being.”
A tiny, sad smile curves his lips. “I’m glad you said that, though I wish you didn’t have to. His anxiety hasn’t been this bad since you two got together, has it?”
I shake my head. “I’m not walking away, if that’s what’s worrying you.” They’ll have to drag me out fighting before I’d leave him like this.
“Yeah, this might be the first time we’ve really met, but oddly, that wasn’t my concern. Has he talked to you about what he needs at times like this?”
“A little. He said if it gets to the point of shutdown, noise-cancelling headphones and home. Anything other than that, he’ll tell me what he needs.” I bite my lip and look at him again. “This is a shutdown, right?”
Blaise nods. “Yeah, it was, but it’s a good sign that he was even a little bit communicative, especially since he wasn’t home with all his comfort stuff. Not so great that he had to face this really shitty situation before he was ready to. You should expect him to be mostly like this for the rest of tonight and maybe tomorrow, as well. Calla will bring the stuff he usually needs—he’s got a weighted blanket that helps, and some fidget toys. Some snacks too. Once he’s set himself up how he needs, make sure he’s got water and snacks. Hot tea is good, too, but he doesn’t like the ones with caffeine.”
I fumble for my phone. “Let me make some notes.”
Blaise smiles again. “You can if you want to, but it should be okay. The main thing is not to intrude on his space. If he wants you close, he’ll let you know—and sometimes he does. Usually,though, he just needs quiet alone time, so go about your usual routine. He might nap, or play games on his phone, or read—or just stare into space. The noise-cancelling headphones are really good, and unless you’re using power tools or something, you won’t disturb him.”
Okay. I can do that. “How long until I should worry? And what about meals?” Snacks are all well and good, but he barely had a chance to eat anything from the grazing platters. If he doesn’t feel like eating by dinnertime—which isn’t far off—that will be two skipped meals already.
“Don’t worry about meals just yet. We’ll check in with you regularly, okay? But if he needs something, food or whatever, he’s still capable of getting it. This is just about you making things easier for him to not be social. He doesn’t need a carer.”
I let out a steadying breath. “I know. He deals with so much in his own head on a daily basis. But I don’t want to fuck this up, and I want to make it as easy as possible.”
Blaise nods approvingly. “You’ll be fine. I’m going to give you all our numbers, and you can call anytime. Seeing him like this doesn’t get easier, but you get used to it. What he needs the most is for us to love and support him.” He hesitates. “I hope you don’t betray our faith in you.”
“It’s Phil’s faith in me I care about.”
By the timeCalla and Polly return a couple of hours later, I’ve gotten to know Phil’s other friends pretty well. It’s not quite trauma bonding, but it feels a little like it. One thing that’s incredibly clear is that they’ll ride or die for Phil, and that’s the most important thing for me.
He’s a little more responsive now—not quite up to conversation, even the nonverbal kind, but he got up to go to the bathroom, accepted another cup of tea and a package of Cheez-Its, and when Jordan told him Calla was going to pack for him and to let her know if he wanted anything in particular, he sent her a text. I’m not sure if he’s listening to us talk, since his attention seems to be mostly on Vivi or his phone, but anything is an improvement on how he was earlier.
Calla comes directly to hover beside the couch, her gaze on Phil, while Polly drops two duffel bags beside the door. I’m itching to know what happened and if there’s any new information, but I don’t want to chance that Phil might hear. Just in case. She studies Phil’s bent head for a few seconds, then exhales and goes to sit beside the coffee table.
“I had to call Kyle to find where he put the card,” she says to the room. “He sends his love. Then Spears talked to half our neighbors, and they were all horrified and send their love too. Melanie said she saw a woman coming into the building when she was on her way out this morning, but she wasn’t paying much attention.”
“I wish your building had cameras,” Polly says, and it’s got the rhythm of something he’s said before.
“Anyway,” Calla continues, ignoring him, “Spears is coming back Monday morning to talk to Phil and the staff. He said if Phil’s not going to be at the showroom, that’s no problem.”
“I guess that’s it, then.” Xera shakes her head. “I hate that I don’t know what to do right now.”
She’s right—this helpless, impatient feeling is the worst. I want to fix this whole situation for Phil. I want answers. I want everything to go back to how it was a few hours ago, because this fucking sucks and isn’t how I saw my first meeting with Phil’s friends going.
But I can’t do or have any of that, so instead, I stand. “Which one is Phil’s bag?”
