“I was just going to.”
“Should I fetch something?”
“No, it’s fine.”He doesn’t look at me, just digs in his jeans pocket and pulls out some dextrose tablets.His fingers shake as he tries to get the wrappers off.I don’t know if that’s because he’s still drunk or already too low.Probably a bit of both.I remember the website I was reading after I found out about his diabetes.Alcohol can make your blood-sugar level drop quickly.Always be extra careful if you have been drinking.
“Let me.”He doesn’t reply as I take the sweets from him.“Got any more of these?”
“No, I...I thought I did, but those are all there are.I already had to eat a couple, back in the greenhouse.Alcohol always makes things tricky.”He swallows.“Do you have anything else?Cookies, a soda, anything like that?”
He’s really struggling to form coherent sentences, and that sets my heart racing.
“Wait here.”I stand up.My mind is blank.
I bought that bloody tablet yonks ago at Irvine’s, only to be unable to find it now.This can’t be happening.I dig through my schoolbag until I remember giving it to Gideon when Grace was feeling rough.I open my desk drawer, but my emergency chocolate stash hasn’t magically refilled itself since my bout of eating my feelings last week.There’s nothing left.
“I’ll go and look in the wing kitchen.”
Colin’s leaning both elbows on his knees and only briefly raises his head.If possible, he looks even whiter than before.He doesn’t speak, just nods and shuts his eyes.
This is the moment I start to panic.He doesn’t argue.That can’t be a good sign.I take a step toward him, hesitate, stop.Can I even leave him here?He doesn’t look good, he really doesn’t, but staying to hold his hand is definitely not going to help.His blood sugar is way too low, he’s been drinking alcohol, and the only thing that’ll help him now are carbs.
“I’ll be right back,” I promise.He blinks.“Or should I wake Ms.Barnett?”
“No,” he murmurs.“I’ll be all right.Just...just be quick, OK?”
“OK.”I turn and open the door.
I don’t know how I manage to repress everything that happened earlier as I flit through our dark wing.It doesn’t matter now—this is way more important.
I open the fridge in the wing kitchen.Butter, a jar of pickled gherkins and chilies, a limp lettuce and a couple of carrots in the salad drawer.There’s one sole pot of yogurt—I reach for it, then groan.Sugar-free diet stuff.God, this can’t be true.Then I see the bottle of orange juice.I grab that and shut the door.I open the cupboard at top speed and find a bit of bread.There’s a bunch of brown bananas in the fruit bowl on the table too.I break two off and run back to my room.
Colin’s crouched on the bed.He’s pulled up his knees and rested his back against the wall; he looks like he’s about to boak.He glances up as I come in.His eyes wander over to the food in my hands, but I get the feeling he’s not all there.
“Is any of this any use?”I ask, heading over to him.
“Yes.”His voice sounds miles off.He lifts a hand and points at the bottle.“That’s...Thanks.”
If I was in any doubt about how shit he’s doing just now, the fact that he can’t even break the seal on the bottle would have banished it.
“Wait.”I reach for it.“Let me...”It’s easier than I expected.Colin takes it, not looking at me.I want to help him, but all I can do is sit beside him as he drinks.Little sips.It looks knackering.
“Want a glass?”I ask, but he doesn’t hear me.I shiver as he puts it down.He props his head on one hand.
“Colin.”I shake him by the shoulder.“Keep drinking.”
For once he does as I say.Tiny sips, slowly, so slowly, as I pray that the sugar will hit his body fast.I wish I didn’t have to force him, but I have no choice.If he doesn’t get something inside him now, I’ll be in real trouble here.
We don’t speak.I just sit beside him in silence.Until Colin leans his head against the wall and shuts his eyes.His face has now taken on the color of the white walls.
“Getting better?”I ask tentatively, but he doesn’t respond.“Colin?”
I budge closer.His head slumps to one side, my heart skips a beat.
Fuck...My stomach drops away—it really feels like that.
I grab for the bottle in his hand before it tips over as his grip loosens and he loses consciousness.
“Colin, shit...Stop it.Look at me, Fantino!”
