In Your Corner | ✓

Twenty-Three

I kick into action immediately, rushing towards this broken boy.

Stopping just short of him, I crouch down to his level, cautious not to touch him until he knows it's me. "Josh? It's Nat. I'm here."

"Nat," he forces out between gulps and sobs. "I – I can't breathe."

Steeling myself, I sit down on the floor next to him, my back against the wall. "Breathe with me, Josh. In and out."

We're breathing together and I twist my head to see a shell-shocked Chase still standing in the doorway. I mouth at him to get us some water and he nods, heading off in a daze.

I'd almost forgotten that no one else really knows about this part of my friendship with Josh. Or just about this part of Josh in general.

As his breathing starts to regulate a little, he begins to cry in earnest. "I'm sorry," he garbles, tears slipping down his face, catching in his stubble. "I'm really sorry, I'm so sorry."

"Hey," I murmur. "It's okay. Don't apologise. Just focus on your breathing."

But now that he's started to breathe a little better, he vomits all over again.

Flinching at the scene in front of me, I will myself to stay put together, because he needs me to be composed right now. "It's okay, just get it out, Josh," I encourage. "I'm just going to move your hair a little."

I push his curls back from his forehead, so that they're not at such a risk of pressing against the basin of the toilet. Pulling a spare band off my wrist, I haphazardly tie the front of his hair back. It only improves it slightly, but it'll have to do.

While he's still emptying the contents of his stomach, Chase arrives back with a couple of bottles of water and that panicked look still on his face.

Shutting the door behind him, he hesitantly makes his way over and passes me the two bottles.

Putting the bottles down next to me, my hand drifts from Josh's hair to his back, rubbing soothingly. Thankfully, he doesn't have a problem with the contact, despite not being able to see me.

Chase sits down next to me, perplexed. "What's going on, Nat? He started panicking and rushed in here, vomited everywhere and started sobbing for you," he murmurs in a quiet tone, probably trying hard not to set Josh off.

Taking a deep breath, I look at Chase with a pained expression. "Long story."

"Nat," Josh cries out again. "I..."

"Hey, it's okay," I soothe him gently, ignoring the increasing confusion painted on Chase, just focusing on him. "I'm right here, okay? Just breathe with me."

Slowly, he stops vomiting and eventually, pushes away from the toilet. His shoulders are still shaking and he sits, his back crashing against the tub on the opposite side to where I am.

Taking one of the bottles, I shift to my knees and twist the cap off. "Have a drink, Josh," I murmur, holding it out of him. "You might vomit it up again, but it'll be good for you."

Hesitantly, his hand reaches out and clasps around the bottle. He takes a small sip, his eyes closed and his head leaning backwards.

"I'm just going to put the other bottle against your forehead, okay?" I check quietly, picking up the other one and do as I say.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, taking the bottle away from his mouth. "I fucked it."

"You're fine, Josh," I assure him, despite my fears after seeing him like this. "You're fine."