Cross My Heart

Chapter Eight

CROSS MY HEART: CHAPTER EIGHT

After we went out for ice cream, we spent the rest of the day together, just talking. We walked around town a bit, and did rent that paddle boat. We were in the park when I finally gathered up the courage to ask him about the bracelet he was wearing. He hesitated, and then took me to a bench to sit down. I could see the tenseness he felt; it radiated off of his body.

"I...ever since I was a little kid, I've had really," He took a breathe, and looked away. I patiently waited. "I have really severe epileptic seizures." My mouth went to drop open, but I was sure to quickly close it. He was perfect; he couldn't have something wrong with him. But he did. The first picture that came to my mind was of him suddenly collapsing and jerking wildly on the ground.

"I have to wear the bracelet, because if I do have a seizure, then anyone will be able to know what to do, and who to contact." My eyes were glued to him; I was listening, but not really watching. My mind just kept flashing me images of his eyes going to the back of his head, his body jerking in uncontrollable movements. I guess he realized that I was in a daze from this news, so he said my name.

"Devyn, please. Please don't look at me any differently. I'm still me; I always have been, I always will be." I was obviously in shock; I had just learned that my potential boyfriend has very severe epileptic seizures. But I was also surprised that he had chosen to be so open with me.

I didn't even realize I had been crying when Adam's hand wiped a tear from my cheek.

"But...but," I couldn't get the words to come out. "You're perfect. I mean, you're Adam Clark. You are the most amazing person I know, and I've only known you for four days." He wiped another tear from my face, and tried to console me but I pushed away his arm. "No. You...you can't just tell me something like this and then, and then expect me to be fine. Can you..." I could not say the words. Can you die from something like this? I think he could read my mind because his jaw started to twitch a little, as he swallowed down tears.

"If I have a really bad one, something...bad could happen, but ninety-nine percent of the time, I get back up on my feet, good as new. Please believe me; you have nothing to worry about." There was still that one percent.

I sure as hell had something to worry about. I had so many things I wanted to say, and ask him. How long have you had them? Do they run in your family? Do they hurt you? If they hurt you, they hurt me. I exhaled instead of speaking, and we both sat in silence, for a while.

"How many?"

"What?"

"How many do you get? Are they frequent?" He hesitated; I guess I had gotten used to the silence, too.

"On average, I would say that I probably get one, once or twice a month. I take medication that helps control them. But in certain situations, they are pretty bad. Like, if something really stressful happens, I'm bound to go into a seizure." He had more than answered my question.

Although that day had been a pretty lazy day, I was drained; emotionally and mentally. All I wanted to do was go home and take a nap, so that I could wake up and realize that this was all just a dream. A very unreal dream. But it wasn't a dream; it was a nightmare.

Adam took me home that day, and I realized that I would never look at him the same, even though he told me to. But I wasn't looking at him like he a was a weird kid that had seizures. I was looking at him like he was the bravest boy I knew; that he was his own night in shining armour, it seemed.

About a few weeks went by before I witnessed his first seizure. It was horrible. He had just taken me to his house, to meet his family. We had been sitting down at the table, eating dinner, when his fork went flying across the table. Before I knew it, he was on the floor, jerking. His family immediately got up, and knew exactly what to do, seeing as they had done this a million times before. I, on the other hand, had no idea what to do. Should I call an ambulance, or just wait outside? His older brother seemed to read my thoughts, because he gently took my arm and guided me to the living room. He seemed like he wanted to make small talk, to distract me, but it would be kind of hard when you could hear Adam's body movements in the next room. Instead, we just sat on the couch.