Page 42 of So Long, Honey

Her house was dark, and for a moment, I thought I was wrong, that maybe they weren’t home. But as I shut off the engine and the moon's light spread across her yard, I saw her.

Her face was pressed to the telescope just like that night, her messy short hair stuffed under a beanie to keep her ears warm in the breeze. Her face was more hollow than before, and I couldn’t tell if it was the moon playing tricks or the pale color of her skin, but she looked sick. The desperate feeling to fix everything seeped into every crack within my body as I climbed from the car and started the slow walk up her driveway.

“What are you doing?” The wind threatening to steal the sound of my voice as I asked her the same question I had the first day I saw her. Her body stiffened, and she looked up at me.

FIELD

“Go away,” I said. But there was no malice or fight to my words. Not that time.

I hadn’t expected to see him. My shaky fingers found the knob of the radio and silenced it before the game even started because I was so heartbroken that I couldn’t be there.

But now he was standing on my driveway in his pinstripe baseball uniform, dirty strands of hair sticking out the bottom of his backward-turned hat and that stupid nervous grin on his face. My brows furrowed as I did the math.

It was nearly three hours from Perrin.

There was no way he had played in that game and stood here with me.

It wasn’t possible.

“No.” He shook his head and reached up to pull off his hat, tucking it into his back pocket.

“You shouldn’t be here if my dad—” I started but the soft shake of his head told me that excuse wasn’t going to work.

It had been a very rough few days. I’d collapsed on Monday, unable to carry the weight of my own body, and it wasn’t asecond thought for us to end up at the hospital doing tests. The inner corners of my arms were still sore from all the needles they had shoved under my skin, and my muscles were still stiff from the confinements of a hard hospital mattress.

Food had become more unappetizing again, and the siren call of my bed was echoing in my head every time I made a move to work out the cramps forming. I’d taken a long shower, the steam forcing me to sit on the edge of the bath until the dizziness passed.

But when Ryan showed up on the driveway it returned tenfold, rushing through my tired body like an unstoppable tidal wave. The sight of him was enough to make me cry.

“I don’t give a shit about your Dad, Starlight,” Ryan chuckled and stepped forward until he was at the foot of the stairs, his balance uneasy and his shoulders pinned back with nerves. “Are you alright?” He asked me casually as if he could solve whatever issue left my lips next.

“No,” I answered honestly, even though it's probably not what he wants to hear at the moment.

“When did you get home?” Ryan asked. It was clear that he wanted to come closer and desperately needed to close the gap between us, but he wouldn’t do it unless I asked him to.

“This morning.” I knotted my fingers around the hem of my sweater. It wasn’t overly cold outside, even with the breeze. June’s heat was starting to settle around the town, and all summer flowers had bloomed, making the air sticky and floral. But my body didn’t care what temperature it was outside. My bones were frozen, and my circulation was shot.

“Is it bad?” He asked.

“It could be. I have an infection that’s not healing on its own…” I trailed off. “You don’t want to know all of this crap, Ryan.”

He surged up the steps at my dismissal. “I want to know everything all the time," he argued, his hands flexing at his side from the incessant urge to touch me.

“They have me on medicine.” My voice was tight and quiet to keep the dry, cracking sound from reaching him. “If it works, I’ll be okay,” I said, not looking away from him.

“If,” Ryan repeated, his eyes glassy from holding back his emotions. “If it doesn’t?” He asked.

“Then I go back in for more tests and treatment. The hospital is sterile. It's the best place for me, but I hate it there. It’s so quiet except for this low hum that my brain knows is the machine but for some reason, I associate the sound todeath.” I swallowed hard and finally looked away from him.

“But being here, being home, might make you sick?” He questioned.

“Yeah,” I nodded, “But that chance exists anywhere. It’s just easier for my mother if I’m there, where she barely has to look after me.” I sighed, trying to fill my lungs with air, but they were sore, and each breath was precious energy.

I could see the anger behind his eyes as he registered what I was saying to him. “You left the game…” I said next, my brows coming together in a tight line. “Everyone was there foryou.”

He was quiet for a moment that felt like forever, no doubt running the information over more than once. When he finally spoke again, I flinched at the sound. “I couldn’t find you tonight,” he said with a little shake.

Guilt ate at me, gnawing at my racing heart.