Will We Talk?

66- Sick

"You've got me worried." I sobbed down the phone, "What do you mean?"

"Darling- just, please... Please come over." mam's voice was shaky and I could tell she was moments away from crying, "You there?" she asked after a moment of silence.

"Aye." I breathed, teeth catching onto my lip, "Reet, I'm on my way."

"I love you, sweetheart." she reiterated before hanging up.

A heavy hand dragged down my face, smudging the makeup I couldn't be bothered to take off after my meeting last night. My stomach was churning and the automatic mechanism of lip biting had already began, preparing me for a coppery taste later on. Immediately, I tossed my phone on the floor beside me, sliding the moon-boot over my foot, standing from the mattress that lay on the floor. Attempting to move around boxes and binbags, I searched for a clean pair of clothes to toss on really quickly to wear to mam's.

It wasn't the wake up call I needed, nor wanted, as I'd much rather just sleep in on a Wednesday morning I have off. Today was meant to be exciting: the day I get permission to not wear my moon-boot. So why did I feel sick and want to just get over whatever's going on with mam? Why does she want me over so early in the morning?

I couldn't make it to mam's fast enough, though, so I decided it'd be smart to give Sam a quick ring. After all, he did mention that he was only a call away, so I may as well use that call in this dire time of need. My heart was pounding at the thoughts of the worst of scenarios like if my dad had collapsed again or someone was dead. In true Evie fashion, my mind was stirring with the worst cases possible.

"What's all the rush?" Sam worriedly asked as I rolled the window down, "You're looking peaky, you alright?"

"Stop the car." I demanded, but he kept going, obviously not hearing my mutter, "Sam. Stop the fucking car."

That familiar feeling of an overly active stomach and burning throat took over my body as I held my mouth and frantically searched for the handle. As soon as I grasped it, I stumbled out of the car and spewed my guts up. Then I heard another door slam and a sudden hand rubbing my back, another pulling my hair over my right shoulder.

Sam. He was a dream friend. He was the dream boyfriend, when he wasn't all distant and being self-centred, but I have my flaws too and I'm sure I also got the better of him at times. Like him to me. But this moment of him comforting me, not knowing what was actually going on, was special to me. His genuine concern was shown in the increasingly fast pace in his breathing, and hand rubbing my arm even faster and more vigorous.

"All done?" I nodded and he guided me back to the car, clicking my seatbelt in as he returned to his seat, "Want to tell is what's gannin on?"

"Mam rang." I muttered, "Told me to come around hers' as quick as I could."

Sam said nothing, just nodded and let me do all the talking- a good habit of his that seemed to work in getting me to open up.

"It's probably nothing bad- well... hopefully... but, it's just like, I don't know." I waffled, "In my head, all of these worse-case scenarios are picking at me. Like has she hurt herself, has someone died, has dad become unresponsive- you know? I'm just stressing." I explained, "I know you think I'm being overdramatic, or that I'm hungover- which I'm not- but... please, try to understand where I'm coming from."

My eyes were teary as I looked at Sam, who was concentrated on the murky morning roads ahead, as he pondered on what to say to comfort me. I didn't care if he said nothing, but if he hadn't, I think I'd have felt like a fool for pouring my heart out and him just stamping on every feeling I expressed. However, Sam isn't like that: he has a big mouth and likes his opinion voiced, so of course he'd comfort me, right?

"I don't think that lowly of you." he scoffed lightheartedly, "I mean- not that I do... erm... think lowly of you." he looked at me with frantic eyes, making me laugh slightly, "You know you mean a lot to me, I couldn't think of you in such a bad way. To me, you're perfect."

With that, a nest of butterflies freed themselves around my stomach, and I felt my ears- that were fortunately covered- tinge a slight red. My top teeth had to bite down my cracked lips in the hopes that he didn't notice my childlike shenanigans. That was the proof I needed to know I liked him again. Like, like him like him, not just like him. Perfect? I could get used to that.

I hummed a melodic response, allowing him to continue with his alleviating tirade.

"You're going to be alreet, y'kna that it will, you're just an over-thinker. Maybe you should talk to Cassie about that, let her know about it." he suggested, "Listen, Evelyn, I know it was tricky and I was a prick, but I always took the time out of my day to see if you were fine. I know about your sessions with Cassie, and I can tell you now: they're doing you a world of good." he quietened his voice, as though he was guilty or remorseful for what he did.

"Thanks for everything, Sam." I lightly kissed his cheek before making a beeline towards the front door of mam's house, bursting in and sprinting to the living room.

In front of me, both of my parents were sat solemnly and Bradley was sat on the three-seater, so what was actually going on? Why wasn't Bailey here?

On mam's cue, dad turned off the telly and coughed back what I assume was a cry. I gripped onto Bradley's hand and hugged into him, preparing for the worst. The tension in the room was eerily intense and that didn't make me feel any better.

"So, we do have some bad news." mam started, immediately blubbering after she spoke, "Erm- I don't know how to... how to say this."

"Yvonne has cancer." dad spat out, blinking his eyes thoroughly to fight tears.

Suddenly, I felt sick. I wanted the sofa to just swallow me whole and take me far far away from where I was. I wanted to be transported to a universe where everything actually went good for me and not like shit. Just over two weeks ago we were all out getting smashed, so why was it so sudden? My stomach performed flips and my eyes poured and poured, Bradley and I cuddling on the settee. He was equally as heartbroken by the news, sobbing onto my shoulder.

By the end of us crying, my throat felt dry and gritty, making me whizz upstairs to the bathroom and throw up again- that familiar feeling taking over my body. However, my vision began to darken as I went to walk back downstairs. I walked around the corner to return to where I was before, then everything just went blank and a deafening screech filled my ears- distracting me from the world.