Needing 13 - Johnny Kavanagh

FORTY

MARCH 19TH 2004

TARA

"Psst," Erin whispered, poking me in the back with her pen. Ms. Murphy was droning on about integrals and derivatives, but her words were distorted, muffled, like I was submerged underwater.

"Tara, turn around for fuck's sake."

With a heavy sigh and a roll of my eyes, I turned to face her. "What the fuck do you want?" I snapped, my head throbbing painfully.

"Chill, bitch," Her brown eyes darted nervously from my back to my face. "I don't want to freak you out, but you're bleeding. Your shirt is fucking soaked."

My stomach dropped as I processed her words. Without drawing too much attention, I quickly slipped on my maroon school sweater, hoping the dark color would mask the blood.

"Ms. Murphy," I called out, raising my hand urgently to get the teacher's attention, "can I go to the nurse's office? I'm not feeling well."

"I'll walk her," Erin added quickly, grabbing both our backpacks."Womanly problems, Ms. Murphy. You get the idea."

Ms. Murphy arched an eyebrow at us but finally nodded. "I hope you get better soon, Miss Lynch."

"Thank you," I managed to say, my voice strained. The room was starting to tilt around me.

Erin grabbed my arm, almost dragging me out of the classroom. We hurried down the hallway to the girls' bathroom farthest from our class. She slammed the door shut behind us as I staggered into a stall and collapsed to my knees.

Sweat dripped from my forehead, and my vision blurred. This wasn't supposed to happen. Shite. Panic surged through me as bile rose in my throat. With a monumental effort, I leaned over and vomited, the bitter, metallic taste of blood filling my mouth.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Erin's voice broke through the fog in my head, frantic and terrified. "Is that fucking blood? Are you throwing up blood, Tara?"

"I'm... okay," I slurred, wiping my mouth with a trembling hand. My vision was a blur, and I could barely make out the tiles on the floor in front of me. "I'm... okay, Erin."

"You're not fucking okay! You're throwing up blood, and you're bleeding from your back." I could hear her frantically rummaging through her backpack. "I'm calling Joey right fucking now."

"Don't," I snapped, turning my head weakly to see her pacing back and forth. The room wouldn't stop spinning, and I felt another wave of nausea hit me. "Joey..." I gasped, fighting the urge to vomit again. "Joey can't find out."

"He's your fucking brother. You're bleeding out in the bathroom, Tara. You're scaring me."

"Darragh," I spat out more blood, the metallic taste overwhelming. "Call him."

"Okay, okay," I heard Erin say, her voice shaky and strained. "Darragh—We're in the girls' bathroom near the exit. Tara's bleeding out, and I don't know what to do—Calm down? Our best friend is fucking bleeding out, and you're telling me to calm down?— Fuck you, O'Shea—Come quickly. She looks pale as a fucking ghost."

"Tara, can you hear me?" She knelt beside me, her hands trembling as she placed her sweater under my head for support. Her voice wobbled, and I could hear her trying to choke down a sob. "Darragh's coming. You're okay."

You're okay, my head repeated over and over. You're okay. I'm okay

"Tara!" The bathroom door flew open with a bang, and through my blurred vision, I saw the silhouette of Darragh rushing in. He dropped to his knees next to me. "Fuck! Erin, help me turn her over, and then go get a fucking mop and bleach."