"I don’t think less of you, I could never."
Eli’s breathing was labored, like he was struggling to catch a breath. "I traumatized everyone! I can’t blame any of you for not wanting to be around me. I’m sorry, I really am.”
I hesitated before gently putting my arms around him, his frightened state making me worried to touch him. I hadn't realized how sweaty he was until his body was pressed against mine. The sweat clung to me, sticky and wet. It was disgusting.
The day progressed and the anxiety dwindled down a little, but other things came up. His hands would tremble and he thought he was doing a good job at hiding it, but the way he flinched every time gave it away. It frustrated him that his hands were defying him, and all I could do was pretend that I did not notice.
By the end of the day, he was very nauseated. He did not want to eat dinner, but he hadn't eaten all day because he claimed that he didn't have an appetite. So, by nightfall we had to force him to consume food. I said we, but I really meant my mom. She coerced him to eat a small portion of noodles and to drink some water. That was all she could get out of Eli’s stubborn self.
“It will get worse before it gets better,” my mom told me yet again. She repeated it to get it into my head, to warn me. I heard her.
Day three was by far the worst day there was. It was a Monday, but I was allowed to skip school to stay with him. This was the only day I was allowed to miss which meant on Tuesday he would be alone for the first half of the day. I needed to make the most of it today to make sure he knew that I wasn't going to leave him permanently. One would think that would be obvious by now, but this was Elias Richarson we were talking about.
He spent the first half of the day curled in the blankets with his eyes squeezed shut, though he was not asleep. Alan had gotten him to eat that morning, but it didn’t stay down. Eli refused to eat again after that because he thought it was pointless when he kept throwing it up.
It caused him to try and isolate himself from us while simultaneously attempting to be as close to me as possible. He was conflicted between wanting me out of the room so he could wallow in his own self-pity and wanting to be snuggled up under me.
A couple of hours later Eli and I were watching a movie. Well, I was watching the movie while he was staring mindlessly at the TV. I read online that sometimes a distraction could be helpful, though I was not sure it was working. There was a little distance between us in the bed to give him the space he currently wanted.
When I glanced at him, I noticed the sweat glistening on his forehead. I pulled the covers back to find that his shirt was completely drenched, it was like someone had poured a bucket of water on him.
"Why didn't you tell me you were hot?" I pressed the back of my hand on his forehead that was unsurprisingly warm as well.
My mom had said before that a fever was possible and not uncommon, but if it was too high then he would have to go back to the hospital. It didn’t feel severe to me, just a bit warmer than normal. I decided I would use the thermometer to be sure.Before I went to get it, I sat him up and tugged his shirt over his head so that he could cool down. He let me pull it off of him without a fight.
I was about to get up to grab the thermometer and then I was going to inform Alan about the fever, but Eli stopped me.
"Javi?" Eli said wearily.
I turned around. "What's up?"
He wrapped his arms around his torso and leaned his head against the headboard. His voice was barely above a whisper. "I don’t feel well. I want this to be over.”
"I know, Eli." My heart swelled as I grabbed his hand and held his hand loosely. "What do you want me to do?"
He hesitated, biting his bottom lip hard as he contemplated what he was about to say. “You can’t get mad at me, okay?”
When he started his sentence by asking me not to get upset, I already knew what he was about to say next was not going to be good. Eli had the same look on his face as he did when I caught him with the bottle a couple of days ago. I did not give him the chance to continue speaking before I shook my head firmly. I refused to hear the rest of his request.
I felt his grip on my hand tighten and he looked at me with pleading eyes. "Please? I promise I won’t ask ever again."
Shit, don’t do this to me.
I was not going to enable it. He was having a moment of weakness, it was the only reason he was begging. Eli knew better. When one relies on something heavily and it gets abruptly taken from them, they’re bound to try and find ways to access it again.
I wanted to help him. I wanted to take the pain away from Eli because it was hurting me to watch it and be useless. If I could switch places with him, I would, but that was unfortunately not how the world worked. Giving him a bit, evenjust a sip, would be doing more harm than good. He had to push through.
"No," I said firmly, but still gently. When my back pressed against the door was when I realized I had been steadily backing away.
"You said you love me." He wasn’t yelling at me, I didn’t believe that he had the energy to. Instead, his tone was low and hurt.
"I do."
"Then why aren’t you helping me?" he whispered in betrayal as his hand pressed against his chest with force.
I was not sure if he said anything more because I went through the door and shut behind me. If I had to listen to his words any longer, I was going to lose it. I hurried myself down the stairs and found my whole family gathered round having just made it back from school and work.
I was in a clear state of stress and it pulled everyone's attention. Gabriela had that same fear in her eyes as a couple of days ago when we found Eli unconscious. When I rushed up to her, my mother steadied me. Her hands were holding my shoulder tightly as she willed me to calm down.
