Mrs. Weston bursts out laughing, shaking her head.
…
We’re in the waiting room.
That awful plastic light buzzes above us, the kind that makes your skin look sick even if you’re fine. Vending machines hum louder than they should. Rava’s next to me, my leg touching his. Lorenzo paces in slow circles. Rava’s mom flips through an old magazine without reading a single page.
I hear footsteps before I see her. A nurse, early thirties maybe, holding a clipboard. She looks straight at me. I stand before she even says anything.
"She’s stable. But her oxygen levels are still low. They’re adjusting the treatment. She’s resting now, but…there’s no real improvement yet. It’s still early. We just have to wait and see."
That phrase.Wait and see.
I fucking hate that phrase. I nod, but everything’s blurry for a second. "Thanks," I manage. My voice sounds fake to my own ears. When the nurse leaves, I sit down hard.
Rava already has his hand on my back, rubbing slow circles without saying anything. I’m trying to breathe but it’s like my ribs are too stiff.
I hate this. Ihatefeeling like this. "I really thought we’d hear something better," I mumble. Rava leans in and pulls me closer, until his lips brush just behind my ear. "I know. I was hoping too. But we got you, okay? Give it some time. You’re not going through this alone." His arm wraps around my shoulders, and I let myself sink into it.
"Well…" Lorenzo starts, "at least she’s not—"
Rava’s elbow hits him. Lorenzo jerks his head toward him. "What?" Rava doesn’t even look at him. "Don’t."
Lorenzo shifts gears, deadpan. "Anyway. Look. I found a vending machine that sells chocolate milk two days past the expiration date. Thinking of chugging it, going full martyr mode. If I end up in a hospital bed next to your mom, you’ll feel less alone. Hero shit, really."
Rava lets out a breathy laugh through his nose. His hand slides up and down my back again. Lorenzo continues, still straight-faced.
"Or we both end up in the ICU and start a band. I call bass. Your mom can be lead vocals when she wakes up."
Despite myself, I let out a quiet sound that might be a laugh. "Thanks," I mutter, not looking at him. He shrugs. "Don’t thank me. I’m still drinking the milk."
I snort. It’s pathetic, but God, it helps. Rava’s mom sets her magazine down and looks right at me. "Gio, you’re doing good," she says. "Better than you think." I shake my head. "Doesn’t feel like it." She reaches across and grabs my hand.
"That’s because you’re inside it. But from here? You’re showing up. You’re staying. That’s brave."
I don’t know what to say. So I don’t say anything. I just sit there with all of them around me.
Three hours later
Rava’s mom is up front, talking to the receptionist.
She’s trying to control the situation just by standing tall. I watch her for a second, then glance down. Rava’s head rests on my shoulder, perfectly still. He’s curled into me.
My fingers drift up without thinking, brushing through his hair, slow and careful. I trace behind his ear, then run my thumb across the side of his head, where his hair softens near the nape.
He’s so pretty.
Then, of course, Lorenzo ruins it. "Okay, but seriously, is this nap time for couples or am I just third-wheeling at an elite level?" I glare at him. "Shut up, idiot. He’s sleeping."
"I’m not sleeping, Gio," Rava mumbles into my shoulder, completely asleep. I glance down at him. "Sure, angel."
Lorenzo snorts. "Wow. You got the angel, huh? Meanwhile I got Daisy, the human caffeine pill. Isn’t it amazing that we’re seeing two siblings who literally share the same face?"
I smile. "You’re sick. It’s true though."
My eyes stay on Rava. I think about everything he said earlier about love, about how I’m not alone. I replay it in my head, just to make sure I still remember every word. Then I tilt my head down just slightly, resting my head against his. Just to be a little closer.
Lorenzo doesn’t let it go. "Awww. Look at you two. Can I get a little affection too, or is this a closed club?"
