One More Time (With Feeling)

7

PART TWO

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The call comes at seven in the morning. You slowly wake to the sound of your ringtone, groggy, reaching over and knocking your phone to the ground.

"Shit," you murmur. You prop yourself up on one elbow and squint, bleary-eyed, trying to follow the sound.

Weeks with Chayton turned into months, turned into a year, turned into more, and you're still together in a way that feels both brand new and old and comfortable. Things have gotten much better for you, financially. You can afford to have a fully furnished room and buy extra, unnecessary, but nice to have supplies for your work. And your life with Chayton is so much more complete, because your friends are so awesome, but you need that emotional connection in your life, too, with just the right amount of physical contact.

You fumble your phone and finally slide the answer bar to the side.

"H'lo?"

"Sorry. Were you sleeping?" It's Chayton.

"I was, but I'm awake now. What's up? It's kind of early for you to be calling."

"I know."

As you start to wake up and the fuzz clears from your head, you start to realize his voice sounds off. Something is wrong.

"So you know how I had that doctor's appointment?" he asks.

You're awake. You jerk up straight and slide on your glasses. "What's going on?"

"My T-cell count is low." His voice is soft, choked. "Like, really low."

"I don't understand."

"I'm dying, March."

Your hand shoots to your mouth. The world stops. The bed jerks from underneath you and you plummet to the floor fast and hard as a freight train. Your chest constricts. You can't breathe. Suddenly you're cold and sweating and your stomach churns.

Words finally come.

"Oh my God. Chay."

"Yeah." His shuddering breath is audible.

"How did this happen? You were fine!"

"Somewhere along the lines my medication stopped being as effective as it needed to be," he says. "And since I was doing so well for so long and didn't feel sick, we weren't checking my levels frequently enough to tell until it was too late. I should've pressed to get them checked more often but... I didn't think I needed it, either. I'm an idiot."

"No, you're not." Your voice is gentle, like he needs to be gentle with himself.

All he responds with is a noncommittal "Mm."

For a while, you sit silently on the phone, listening to each other breathe. Finally, he asks, "Is everyone else home?"

"Let me check. I just woke up."

You pull on a t-shirt, awkwardly maneuvering around your phone. First you peek into the kitchen. Kyle and Lola are there.

"Hey, do you guys work today?"

"I do, at noon," Kyle says. Lola shakes her head. You nod. She starts to ask,

"What --"

You hold up your hand. When I'm off the phone. She falls silent.

"And is Cricket here?"

"Sleeping," she says.

You nod and take your phone back to your room.