“How’d it go?” Leo’s cheerful voice asked on the other end of the line. I grinned as I looked down at my newly activated screen while meandering along the busy sidewalk. The rest of my day open and free, and I hadn’t yet decided what I was going to do with it.
“Good, I think? I mean, the thing works, and I have the whole weekend to play with it,” I said. I wedged my phone under my shoulder and tapped at the screen like he’d shown me two days ago. It felt like I was just touching my own skin, and it was…weird seeing a sudden glow come from what looked like my body. Yesterday there had been a slight sheen to my arm while it was still calibrating. Now when the screen was “off,” it perfectly matched my skin tone, the only indicator it was there a slowly flashing light that I didn’t know the meaning of.
“Your weekend off?” He could never remember which four days I had off in an eight-day week, even though they never changed.
“Yeah. I took today as a sick day for the activation appointment, so I’ll probably raid the used bookstore and be a homebody.”
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re no fun?”
“It’s not my fault that books are better than people.”
His eye roll was almost audible. “Does that include me?”
I hummed, pretending to consider. “You’re okay,” I decided. I could give him shit, but I was feeling generous today.
“Come on, Callie. Why not try something new?”
“Being a social hermit takes commitment. How else will I avoid accidentally making new friends?” I was teasing, but there was a layer of truth to my words. Leo likely had picked up on them at some point, but had never pushed me on it before.
His answering sigh told me that today was finally the day.
“Callie, there’s nothing wrong with making friends. Why won’t you?”
It was my turn to roll my eyes. “You seriously have to ask?”
It was quiet on the other line for a moment until Leo cleared his throat. “I get your hesitation. But why let a few bad instances ruin other possibilities?”
Leo’s words stewed in my head as I aimlessly walked another half a block, looking at windows and watching my reflection. My shoulders were tight and my expression was blank or maybe guarded. I didn’t look like someone who was happy.
Finally, the words assembled themselves in some sort of order in my brain. “I hear you. But, Leo, it hurt. All three times. In a row. I can’t keep putting myself out on the line like that. When they eventually learn about it, whether I want them to or not, they shut me out.” I bit my lip, willing the tears back. “You’re the only friend I’ve managed to make here and keep. That’s enough for me.” It had to be enough, I added silently.
Leo coughed before answering, “There are others like me out there, you know.”
“Yeah, but you’re also dying. Remember? You’re just as likely to leave me as I am to leave you. When other people find out, they stop opening up, slowly stop inviting me to things, and think that we just grow apart because they don’t want to deal with someone terminally ill. They don’t want to deal with their feelings or worry that I’m going to start asking them to run an errand here, or help me get there. I’m not loaded like you. You can afford to pay someone to care for you if you ever need it. You’re also better at hiding it, with your big, fancy degree and job. No one expects that much success from people like us, and you blend right in with the rest of them.” The rest of them being everyone without a terminal disease.
Leo was quiet. Sure, maybe I gave him a lot to think about, but he was always quick with his responses. I pulled the phone away to make sure the call was still connected. It was, and I pressed it back against my ear and listened carefully.
“Leo...?”
No response. Then, a wet, hacking sound.
I stopped in my tracks and almost got run over on the busy city sidewalk. I glanced around, finding an alcove for a business to duck into. I covered my other ear with my hand.
There. I could just barely make out the sound of Leo’s wet cough, muffled into a pillow or his sleeve or something.
My legs were moving before I my brain caught up to what was happening.
I put Leo on speaker phone to pull up directions to his apartment. Of all the days for my earbuds to finally kick the can, this was not a good one.
Finally, he rasped, “Callie…”
“Are you at your apartment?” I demanded, pulling up his address with tingling fingers. If I’d been paying more attention to where I was wandering, I likely wouldn’t need directions. Right now was so not the time to accidentally get lost.
“…Yes.”
“I’m already on my way.” I was only about five blocks away. Not far but…not close enough, not with how quickly this was escalating already. I memorized the route, which was thankfully simple, as my feet picked up the pace. “Stay on the phone with me. Try to get to your medicine.”
He only coughed again in response, this one sounding even worse than the last. Any hope of a mild episode evaporated.
“Shit,” I swore, breaking out into a run. I debated just calling the paramedics, but by the time they’d reach him, I would probably already be there, and I didn’t need to wait to be buzzed up like they would. I just needed to make sure he got his meds. We both kept recovery meds on us that would halt the episode long enough for it to calm down on its own or get to a hospital. It was easier to recover in the comfort of your own home if the attack was mild, or if meds were taken soon enough.
I made it to his apartment building in record time. My hands were shaking, fingers vibrating, and I punched in his code wrong twice before getting the green light. The elevator seemed too slow, but I was out of breath and panting with my hands on my knees. I was not an athlete.
Leo’s doorpad to his apartment was biometric instead of numeric, and I’d been programmed in two years ago. I wiped my hands on my shorts and clumsily placed my right one on the pad. As soon as the door buzzed, I shoved it aside and dashed in.
“Leo?” I called out in a panic. I found him laying awkwardly on the couch, a leg lying off the side like he had tried to get up, failed, and had been unable to get himself fully on the couch. His eyes were bloodshot as they lazily found me. His breathing was raspy, which told me he’d probably been getting worse before our phone call and hadn’t told me.
I fought the tears that sprung to my eyes. Now was not the time to talk about it or get upset. Leo needed me. I quickly uncapped my own pill bottle I always had with me and shook out two pills, bringing them to his mouth and slipping them past his lips. He had a cup of water nearby, which I held to his mouth. Carefully tipping it to his mouth, I watched Leo take a swig, swallowing the pills.
And we waited.
It took about five minutes for the medicine to start kicking in. It was some type of fast-acting blocking medicine, one that would knock a person down for at least a few hours, stopping the body’s overreaction to…something, almost like allergy meds or an immunosuppressant. Unfortunately, it had its own slew of side-effects. Leo’s tended to be brain fog, which he hated the most, and nausea. Mine gravitated towards fatigue and loss of appetite, though sometimes I was lucky and got full-body chills.
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I maneuvered him as best as I could to get him more comfortable while we waited for his body to relax and the episode to pass. I didn’t look away from his face, not once, as I laid a discarded blanket over his legs and propped a pillow under his head. Once his breathing became easier, I could take a breath myself. I sat down on the floor next to him and rested my head against the edge of the couch.
“What the fuck, Leo?” I breathed. Tears finally spilled down my cheeks. I kept my face hidden.
“Sorry,” he apologized quietly, voice slightly raspy. He cleared his throat. “I didn’t think it’d get so bad so quick. They never have.” He placed a hand on top of my head, slowly stroking my hair. He got a bit affectionate with me on the meds, which I didn’t mind. This felt nice. I had very few people—two—in my life who ever offered me any sort of physical touch. I took it whenever I could.
“You’re getting worse.” The words hurt to say, to admit that the man who’d become my best friend was dying. Not today, or tomorrow, but maybe in a year or two.
“Yeah, well, that’s life. Or, really, it’s death on its way.”
I ignored him. “It’s not enough.”
“It has to be.”
I sighed and lifted my head. It was no use arguing when the meds were still coursing through him.
“Let’s get a bath going. You’ll feel better.”
After Leo had bathed and was dressed in his version of pajamas—sweats and an old t-shirt—we sat on his couch, staring at the television but not actually watching what was on the screen.
I’d had time to contemplate my idea while he bathed. He’d offered before, over half a year ago if my memory served, but my pride hadn’t let me accept. But now that it wasn’t going to only be me benefiting from that arrangement…I felt little guilt for taking him up on it.
“So,” I began slowly. “I don’t know that it’s safe for you to keep living alone.”
Leo’s eyes snapped to mine, full of fire. “I’m not moving back in with my father.”
“No, that wasn’t my—”
“And I’m not hiring a nurse, either.”
“Leo, that’s not—”
“If you think I’m going to voluntarily goes into one of those homes, then—”
“Leo, stop.” I demanded. “Just…wait a second. I wasn’t saying any of those.”
His brows lowered in confusion.“Then what are you saying?” That brain fog had to be hitting him hard for him to not know what I was getting at. It had been his idea in the first pace. Every so often he would hint at it again, testing the waters, but I always shot him down.
“I mean…” I hesitated. It was a bit awkward to be the one to bring up, but it needed to be said. “I think that maybe I should move in with you.”
Leo didn’t say a word. He just stared at me, probably working through the words that just came out of my mouth.
When Leo had first proposed the idea while I was looking for an apartment, I had told him I didn’t want to rely on his charity. I needed to make my own way in the world and support myself to prove that I still could. I’d been, and remained, stubborn on that point, just like my own father was about the house he currently lived in. It was a mark of accomplishment to him, and I had internalized that same sentiment, too.
But, things change.
“Look, neither of us are in the best place health-wise, and it makes sense that it would be good for each of us to have someone who looked out for us,” I added. “What would have happened today if I hadn’t been on the phone with you? You’d have ended up in the hospital, recovering for days instead of hours. This way, we can hopefully better avoid worse episodes because if I don’t see you moving around in your own home, I’m going to know to check on you. We can look after each other. Mutually beneficial.”
Leo looked back at the television and didn’t say anything for several minutes, his brow slightly furrowed as he contemplated. I was about ten seconds away from seeing myself out from embarrassment when he finally spoke.
“Okay.”
My head snapped in his direction. “Just…okay?”
“I mean, it was my idea in the first place. And I can’t ignore that this could have been a really bad episode if you hadn’t gotten here.”
It was true. If I had gotten here only a few minutes later, I had a feeling that Leo would be recovering in the hospital instead of in his own home.
“I hope you know that I’m not going to allow you to split rent with me,” he added like an afterthought. “You’re not paying for utilities, either, so don’t even try. I don’t mean this to sound offensive, but I don’t need your money. This arrangement benefits both of us, keeping us healthier and out of hospitals.”
“Fine,” I agreed. I was unable to afford half of what his place cost, anyways. I’d been planning on making some sort of deal, like handling the grocery shopping or cleaning his bathroom or whatever to make up for my lack of financial contribution. But if he wasn’t interested, I wasn’t going to worry about it.
“And you should move in today.”
I blinked at him. He turned to look at me, acting surprised when he saw the confused look on my face.
“What?”
“You know, moving takes more than a few boxes and an hour or two,” I pointed out.
“Just get what you need for a few days, and we’ll work on it together when I’m all better,” he answered, like it was an obvious solution. “I already have a guest bedroom furnished. No one’s ever even stayed in it. Its yours.”
“What about Lucie?” I wasn’t about to leave my cat.
He shrugged one shoulder, completely at ease. “Bring her back with you.” When he noticed my hesitation, he added, “It’ll mean you can check on me in the morning without having to come all the way over here or trust that I’m telling you the truth.”
“Fine. You’re so pushy.” Or I was just a push-over when it came to Leo.
He held up his hands in surrender, trying and failing to smother his smirk. His screen on his arm blinked softly in the light.
“Did your bio-screen catch anything?” I wondered aloud. “This was your first attack with it, right?”
He instantly sobered. “Yeah. I’d been pretty lucky the last month. How about this; you go to your apartment, and while you get your stuff together, I’ll sort through everything this thing caught. We can talk about it when you get back.”
“More like a trash bag,” I muttered. I owned no luggage; I could never afford to go anywhere. “As long as you promise to call me at the first sign of something wrong. I mean it, Leo.”
He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
It took longer than I thought it would to get everything I needed loaded up into Leo’s car I borrowed. Lucie was primarily to blame, running to hide as soon as she saw the cat carrier come out of my bedroom. It didn’t matter that I would often leave treats inside to help foster a positive relationship with it. The carrier was evil.
She yowled the entire elevator ride back up to Leo’s apartment, the single backpack and large purse I owned stuffed full of basic necessities. Lucie’s belongings were in a trash bag that dragged behind me down the hall back to Leo’s door. I deposited my stuff and the cat in the guest room, taking a few minutes to throw her things—cat bed, water and food bowls, a few toys—around the room haphazardly. Once all my things were here, I would organize the enormous space to my liking.
Leo waited patiently at the glass dining room table, a mug of tea cradled in his hands. When I sat down next to him, he pulled up his screen with a few efficient flicks, and I leaned closer to get a look at what he had found.
<table style="width: 42.5215%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="width: 51.5163%" valign="middle">
Statistic
</td>
<td style="width: 47.9388%" valign="top">
Reading
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 51.5163%" valign="middle">
Pulse
</td>
<td style="width: 47.9388%" valign="middle">
170
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 51.5163%" valign="middle">
Blood Pressure
</td>
<td style="width: 47.9388%" valign="middle">
65/44
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 51.5163%" valign="middle">
Oxygen
</td>
<td style="width: 47.9388%" valign="middle">
96%
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 51.5163%" valign="middle">
Cortisol
</td>
<td style="width: 47.9388%" valign="middle">
46 mcg/dL
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
“These are the ones that were out of the norm for me,” Leo explained. “I compiled them together here, so if you’re not seeing something like my iron levels, that’s because it was perfectly fine.”
“Sure. Makes sense,” I answered distractedly, still perusing the information. I pointed at the first two, touching his arm lightly. “Those do not look good.”
“No,” he agreed happily. “But now one thing that I can try is to lay flat and elevate my feet, or wear compression socks, eat salt, and other stuff. I have to look into it more, but that should help limit or prevent any fainting that could result in a hospital stay. It’s some great information to have.”
Being such a science nerd, I wasn’t surprised by his excitement.
“Do you think that’s the norm for an episode for everyone, or just you specifically?”
He shrugged, his shoulder brushing against mine from how close I’d gravitated toward him. I pulled back, wondering what my own statistics would look like.
“It could be either, honestly. We’ll know more information when you get your first episode and when I get another one. It would suck if it was different every time.”
“Yeah,” I mused, lightly stroking my own screen idly. I’d barely looked at the thing, but I didn’t really have a reason to. Yet. “Being able to have a treatment plan in place on top of the meds would probably make a huge difference.”
Leo’s eyes met mine as a possessed yowl sounded from the hallway. He raised his eyebrows at me, and I just shrugged. Lucie was…Lucie. Maybe she saw a bird outside. Or her own tail offended her. I wouldn’t apologize for my cat’s personality.
“Anyway,” Leo continued, deciding to ignore Lucie’s outburst, “Had I known I should lay the hell down and have a sports drink, I’d probably be feeling better right now.”
I heaved a resigned sigh. “Hopefully this is some positive progress.”
“Hopefully,” he agreed. Lucie sprinted into the room, her tail twice its usual size, and attacked the maroon tassels of the area rug.
“I should sequester this one. She needs to adjust to being here in smaller increments so she doesn’t pee in a corner.”
He grinned. “I’ll trust your judgement. I don’t mind watching her running around.”
“Oh, you say that now. But you’ll regret those words at three in the morning when the shadow of a mouse passes in front of the window and she very vocally demands to hunt like her ancestors.”
“We don’t get mice here.”
I scooped up my cat and detangled her claws from the strings. “She doesn’t know that, though.”