Everett - Age 27
“Oh my god! Help! Somebody please help him!”
I hear the shouted words through the closed doors but think nothing of it. This is the ER, after all. However, when my fellow nurses, Josh and Brittany, burst through the double doors, pushing a gurney, I rush to my feet. A slight figure lies in the bed, having what appears to be a seizure. Rushing over, I dive right in. “What do we have?”
Brittany gives me the rundown. “Twenty-six-year-old male, came in complaining of stomach pain. Abrupt onset. Vitals were stable when he checked in, so we left him in the waiting room, but it’s been like five or six hours. It’s been a madhouse out there all day.”
“How did we go from stomach pain to seizure?” I search the board for empty rooms.
“I have no clue,” Brittany’s frustration is clear to see in her jerky movements. “He genuinely seemed fine. I would havelabeled him as a drug seeker if he hadn’t looked so calm. Best I could tell, he appeared healthy.”
Even from what little I can see of the man, with his face turned away from me and partially covered by his hoodie, it’s clear as day that he no longer looks healthy.
“He’s pale and diaphoretic now. Get him into bay one,” I instruct.
We move the man from the gurney to the hospital bed and begin to undress him. His pants go first. While Josh works on the rest of his clothes, I pick the joggers up off the floor and check his pockets, looking for any clues to his condition. A cell phone and keys are in his left pocket. His right pocket reveals the answer we need. An empty prescription bottle with a fill date of only twenty days ago sits in the palm of my hand.
“He’s overdosed on venlafaxine,” I announce to the room.
“Shit,” I hear Josh say as I look up and get my first real look at the man in the bed. He’s got a slight build, and his black curls are plastered to his sweaty forehead. He looks so familiar, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. I move to the head of the bed to get a better look. My coworkers are busy moving around me, getting him hooked up to the monitor, placing an IV, and administering medications as I stare at a face that for some reason makes me think of summers and pancakes.
“Excuse me, Everett,” Brittany shuffles around me to place a nasal cannula on the man’s face to deliver oxygen.
Her words bounce off of me, my mind too busy trying to place him. “What’s his na—” The man’s eyes open abruptly, and he struggles to focus on me. Their tawny brown color steals my breath as effectively as a punch to the solar plexus.
“Teddy? Is that you?” A smile starts to spread across his face before his entire body slumps, and the monitor changes from the chaotic beep of his heartbeat to the shrill hum of a flatline.
“Cooper?! No. NO!” My shout echoes around the room. “Please. Don’t go. Open your eyes for me, LB. Please. Please don’t leave me. Hold on. Fight, damn it! Don’t you dare give up.” My voice fails on a sob. I’m cradling his face when I feel one of my coworkers pulling on my arm, attempting to drag me from the room. I rip away from them. “I’m not leaving. I’ll stay out of the way, I promise, but I won’t leave him. Not again.”
I move to stand above his head. In a daze, I look on, watching the buzz of activity around me as my coworkers fight to save the life of the boy, now a man, who was once the center of my universe. I can’t lose him again. The loss of him has been an ache in my heart for the past thirteen years, but at least I knew he was out there somewhere.
Over the years, I had fantasized about how his life had turned out. In every fantasy, he always wore the smile that used to light up my life. Looking down at the shell of a man in front of me, I’m forced to face the reality of how inaccurate my childish dreams had been. I’m not sure what happened to Cooper, but I do know that I won’t let this world take him from me again.
I lean down, pressing my forehead to his, and I rasp out one word. “Please.”
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The steady rhythm that meets my ears severs the control I had over my tears, and my knees hit the tile.
Cooper
“Where is he?!”
I startle at the screech coming from down the hall and grimace. Thankfully, I manage to fix my face just as Maxine storms into my room. She stands at the end of my bed, glaring daggers.
Despite traveling across the country to reach me, Max looks as beautiful as ever. She rarely dresses up but somehow still manages to look like she should be on the cover of a magazine. Her glossy blonde hair trails over her shoulder. Her simple white long-sleeve shirt and dark-wash jean ensemble is completed by her favorite pair of beat-up Vans. When her hands land on her hips and her foot starts to tap, I know I’m in for it.
“Cooper Gray Sorenson, what the actual fuck were you thinking?! I’m so angry that I can’t even be appropriately thankful that you’re still here! I could straight up just murder you right now.”
As her words register with both of us, she releases a strangled giggle. This triggers my own, and soon we’re filling the room with the sound of our inappropriate laughter. A minute passes before her face falls and a sob rips from her chest. Sobering instantly, I open my arms as she flies at me. She crashes into me and buries her face in my neck, sobbing as I rub her back.
“Seriously, Coop. What happened? We spoke. You know I would have left if I had known you needed me. Why? Why didn’t you tell me? I was right there. I was right there, and I blew you off. I’m so, so sorry, Cooper. I promis–”
“Stop, Max.” Her words cause an avalanche of guilt to slam into me, but I won’t let her blame herself. “You know this isn’t your fault. How many times have you answered that call before? How many times have you dropped everything to come running when I needed you? How many jobs have you turned down because you couldn’t move away from me? How many of your relationships have ended because your best friend is ‘too needy’?”
“How many times have you made me laugh?” she retorts. “How many living room sleepovers have we had? How many pints of breakup ice cream have you bought me? Who saved my life in that alleyway eight years ago? Who is the one that makes sure all of my milestones get celebrated? Who is the only one that always makes sure I have cake on my birthday?”
“But you know it’s more than that, Max. I’m so tired. Tired of hurting. Tired of being the storm cloud that darkens your life. I can’t make the memories go away. He’s in my head. Right here.” I tap my temple. “The good gets lost, but there’s always a reel of black memories playing on a loop in my mind. Make it stop. Please just MAKE. IT. STOP.”
