“You never told me you loved me,” I looked into his cool, ocean blue eyes.
“I do.”
I started to feel really woozy and I could barely keep my eyes open any more. It was going to be the end. I was blacking out.
“Robinson!” Tay gasped, catching me from falling over. He shook me to wake me.
“I don’t want to puke in front of you,” I mumbled, just barely conscious. “It will be gross.”
“It will be beautiful,” he said sincerely, leaning me over the toilet.
Tay stayed with me. He didn’t let me sleep. He leaned me up against the cold white tub and washed my wrist with cold water. He asked what happened, but I couldn’t bear to tell him. Every time I puked, he rubbed my back and held my hair away from my face, but he didn’t make me feel pathetic. In a way, it was all more romantic than all the times we sat by campfires or had picnics put together. It was painfully obvious that I could have died.
It was morning, and I still wasn’t well. I had problems standing up, and I was weaker than I’d ever been throughout all my blood pressure problems. Taylor helped me get undressed and turned on the water for the shower for me. He helped me into the tub and stood just outside the shower curtain in case I needed him.
I did need him. I was too tired of standing when I got out of the shower, and he had to lift me, my wet, naked body pressed up against him. It was somehow completely intimate but not sexual. At some time apparently Ike or Zac had brought in some clothes for me. Tay helped me dress, and then helped me walk back across the hall to his room.
“I’m going to tell my parents you came over in the middle of the night because you were home alone and you’re sick,” he kissed my forehead as I lay down in his bed. “Sleep,” he ordered, smiling, and went out of the room.
I woke up because I felt something cold and wet on my face. It took me a few seconds to gather up the strength to open my eyes. Mrs. Hanson was sitting on the edge of the bed, patting my face with a wet towel.
“How do you feel, sweetheart?” she smiled gently.
I couldn’t answer. My throat was dry and raspy from the hours of puking that has occurred the previous night.
“My sons told me what happened.” Did they tell her what really happened, or the ‘being sick’ lie? I tried not to respond. “It’s all right, honey,” she kissed my cheek. “We all go through hopeless times.” They told her the truth. My body went cold. She knew. She’d tell my mother. She thought I was even worse than before. Tears began to leak out of my eyes, and I tried to look away from her. “Want to hear a story?” she smiled, seeing my tears. I didn’t nod, but I was able to make eye contact with her again. “It’s about two kids who were so afraid to tell anyone that they were in love, and so they kept it a secret. Then, when the evil Mother found out, they broke up. The girl was so distraught that she thought everything was hopeless… Sound familiar?”
The tears returned, stronger this time, “Romeo and Juliet,” I half-whispered.
“Are you hungry or anything?” she asked.
I nodded. I’d vomited up everything possible, and so I felt weak and light headed.
“Well, Juliet, would you like me to bring up some food for you?”
I nodded, knowing I wasn’t going to be able to make it down the stairs.
She left the room, leaving me alone and still crying. I couldn’t believe she liked me. I’d thought she’d hold a grudge against me forever. I felt free in a lot of ways… except right then I remembered what I’d said to Dave. I made fun of his son and his mother. I told him I didn’t love him. I told him I used him. I was SUCH a bitch.
The door creaked open, and through soggy eyes, I smiled at Ike. “Hi,” I propped myself up on the pillow so I was sort of sitting.
“How are you?”
“Thank you,” my eyes were still flooding over. I don’t think he knew what to say. “Thanks for coming to pick me up without even asking why. I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he came and knelt next to the bed, “I am glad I could help.”
“I’m sorry I’m f*cked up,” I sighed, trying to stop the constant rush of tears, “I never wanted to get any of you involved.”
“I’m glad we all got involved.”
“I am too,” I admitted, not able to hide my eyes from him.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Never better.”
“My mother is going to make you some food.”
“I know.”
“Want some water?”
“Sure.”
Ike patted my hands wand went out to get me a drink. I looked down at the hand, at the place he had just touched. With those same hands, just a few hours before, I’d tried to kill myself. With those fingers I took the pills. I pulled them from Dave’s pocket, and then shoved them down my own throat while looking at the stars. It seemed surreal and amazing. These were the same hands that held Jeremiah and wrote letters to my mother and held onto the cold metal pole on the subway and held the microphone so tightly that my knuckles turned white. These hands that tried to take my life. It confused me.
When the door opened again, it wasn’t Ike, but Taylor with some water. “How are you?” he asked.
“How are you?”
“That depends on how you are,’ he smiled.
I sipped the water and smiled at him.
“So how are you?” he repeated, laughing slightly.
“Thanks, Tay.”
He blushed a little at my tears, which I had decided would never stop. “Don’t worry about it.”
“At least your mom doesn’t hate me anymore,” I shrugged, kind of cough-laughing since I didn’t have the energy to do either one.
“She never hated you.”
“Taylor, I just… I don’t want you to think-” I stammered.
“Robinson, all I want is for you to feel better, to be happy.”
“I’d give anything just to be like I used to be. Back when we were in New York… I knew who I was then. I knew what was going on. I knew how to handle myself. Now, I’m just a mess. I can’t handle everything. I always promised myself I’d never let you see me cry.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t,” I paused to gulp back some sobs, “I didn’t want you to think I was weak and pathetic.”
“I would never have thought that. Do you realize how much I…” his voce trailed off and he got uncomfortable, “I could never think you were weak and pathetic because you’re not weak or pathetic,” he took my hand in his
“Your mom called us Romeo and Juliet,” I smiled.
“Except we’re going to have a happy ending, right?” he squeezed my hand
“Right,” my voice wavered.
