“What’s wrong?” she asks, immediately awake.
“I don’t know,” I say. “I’m shaking, my heart is stumbling and racing, I’m sweating, my vision is blurry.”
“You’re coming down,” she says. “Two choices, you either pull through, get back here, and sleep it off. Or you do another small one. It’ll get you back on track, and when you come back here, we’re sitting it out together.”
“I—I don’t think my body can do more,” I say as I press myself even closer against the wall. “I’m not feeling well.”
“You will be fine,” she says. “Are you on campus? I can tell Alex to get you.”
“Is he still there?”
“Yeah, didn’t I tell you? My dad bailed, just like you said.”
Somehow, talking to El takes my mind off my racing heart.
“Keep talking,” I tell her.
And she does keep talking. About her life, about the world she grew up in.
My heart rate slows down.
She talks about her ex-best friend who betrayed her, about all the foolish things she has done. One of the stories involves herfather’s Bugatti and crashing it into a McDonald’s to piss him off at the sweet age of sixteen.
My shoulders relax, and I can breathe properly again.
“You should have seen me back then,” she says. “You would’ve liked me.”
“I like you now,” I say, and she laughs. She has this rich laughter, so self-assured, so secure, so warm and consuming that it vibrates through my chest.
“You sound better,” she says.
“I do. Coming home now.”
“I’ll be waiting in bed for you. Do you want ice cream or tea?”
“Ice cream,” I say.
“Alrighty. Are you taking the sub?”
“Yeah,” I say as I push my body off the wall and put one foot in front of the other.
El stays on the phone with me the entire time. We don’t talk most of the time, but she’s just there, and it calms me. With her, I am not alone.
And when I reach home, I crawl into bed with her, where she waits with my favorite ice cream for me. I feel so safe that my body can finally relax. I lie down sideways with my head on her belly and pull the blanket over me. A shudder runs through me here and there, accompanied by a sensation of falling down. I twitch every time. It’s like when I try to fall asleep sometimes and suddenly fall down. Every time it happens, I am wide awake again.
“You’re safe,” she says as she brushes over my hair and then steals a spoonful of the ice cream. “I promise you, I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“You can’t promise something like that,” I say dryly, because I’m a realist, and if I have learned one thing in my life, it is that shit always happens. Usually, to me.
“I can,” she says, and I suddenly realize what is happening, what we’re doing here, and my body stiffens.
“El,” I say.
“I know,” she says. “But still.”
No words come out of my mouth, so I close my eyes.
“I’m here,” says El. “I’m here with you.”
