Andrew is a notoriously difficult person to buy birthday or Christmas presents for, which is not helped by the fact that they’re so close together.
I quickly write a message in his birthday card, seal it, and head to his bedroom.
“Andrew?” I knock loudly on the door asGood Luck Babebegins playing for the third time.
I wait a few seconds. When he doesn’t answer, I hedge my bets, closing my eyes as I open the door and hoping I don’t walk in on him having sex with some guy, like I did with one of his exes when we first moved in together.
“Andrew?”
My heart starts beating rapidly as I take everything in. A bottle of wine sits on the bedside table. Two of his prescription pill bottles are turned sideways, both empty. Andrew is lying motionless on the bed, face down, his arms spread out.
“Andrew!” My scream is loud enough to wake even the deepest sleeper.
I drop his card and present and run straight to the bed. I turn him over and slap his cheeks, but he’s completely unresponsive. His eyes are rolled backward.
“Talk to me, Andrew. Talk to me.” Time slows down as I slap his face.
I slide my fingers to where his jawline meets his neck to check for a pulse. A short exhale leaves my lips when I make out a faint beat, before terror crashes back into me.
“Stay with me, Andrew. Stay with me.”
I reach into my pocket for my phone to call an ambulance, but come up empty.
Where the fuck is it?
Ugh! The image of me dropping my phone and keys in the bowl upstairs flashes in front of me.
“I’ll be right back!” I shout at him as if he can hear me.
I dash up the stairs, climbing them two at a time to get to my phone as quickly as possible, and punch in 911 as soon as it unlocks.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“I’ve just found my friend unconscious in our apartment. I need an ambulance immediately.” My foot nearly slips as I make my way back down the stairs and into his room.
This cannot be happening.
“Okay, sir, can you give me your address please?” The woman’s tone is calm and collected as I put my phone on speaker and lean over Andrew, checking his pulse again.
“It’s 1129 North Larrabee Street. Please hurry, his pulse is barely there.”
“Is there an apartment number for your building, sir?”
My chest tightens and my eyes begin to mist over.
Quit fucking asking me questions and send the goddamn ambulance already.
“One,” I manage to answer in a blunt tone.
“Okay, an ambulance has been dispatched and will be with you…”
“Thanks.” I cut her off and hang up.
I slide my phone into my pocket, slide my hand behind Andrew’s head, and pull him into my chest.
“Please stay with me, Andrew.” I whisper gently into his ear. “Please stay with me.”
21.Alexander
