A realization hits me and I squint at the window in front of me, spotting Gracie. Maybe she isn’t one hundred percent invested in me because I have no drive. I’m aimless. Unsure. She’s two years older and about to embark on her new career. I know she’s nervous about it, and that’s half the reason I agreed to go shopping with her earlier.
Maybe in Gracie’s eyes, I’m still just a kid. A boy who’s fucking around and can’t be serious.
I see her inside, chatting with Hannah, her gaze going to the window every few seconds, as if she knows I’m out on the back porch. I stare at her, feeling sulky. Less than. Even…
Unworthy.
But then I really look at her. The expression on her pretty face. The wince. The way her forehead creases as she pauses in her talking, and how she bends over a little.
Almost as if she’s hurting.
Forgetting my beer, I dash back into the house, shoving past people to get into the living room, until I come to a skidding stop right in front of her and Hannah. I reach for Gracie, my hands on her elbows as I pull her close to me.
“What’s wrong?”
She’s frowning. It’s immediately replaced by another wince. “What are you talking about?”
“You look like you’re in pain.”
Her frown deepens. “I’m fine. I just—oh God.”
Gracie doubles over, a cry falling from her lips. A wave of panic washes over me, but I fight it.
“Where does it hurt?” I ask, my tone sharp.
Hannah watches us with wide eyes. “What’s going on?”
“Gracie,” I say firmly when she doesn’t answer me. “Where. Does. It. Hurt?”
She lifts her head, her expression full of agony. “Right here.” She clutches her side. “It’s just—cramps.”
We’ve lived together for almost two months and I’ve never heard her complain about cramps. But Gracie doesn’t complain about much of anything, so whatever is bothering her, it has to be pretty bad.
Without hesitation I gather her in my arms—she’s really freaking light—and carry her over to the nearby couch. There are people currently sitting on it, but they all scramble off when they see me glowering at them.
I lay her on the couch and then kneel beside her, touching her forehead. It’s cool yet damp with sweat. “How long?”
“How long what?”
“Have you been in pain? When did this start?” God, she’s so frustrating. But I need to be patient and get this out of her.
“Earlier this afternoon,” she admits, biting her lower lip. “Before we left for the mall.”
“Gracie,” I say gently, hating that she’s hurting.
“Caleb,” she returns with a faint smile, then winces in pain once again. “Oh man, these are the worst cramps I’ve ever had.”
“Didn’t you just have your period?”
She seems shocked by my question. “Since when do you pay attention?”
“I brought you home tampons, remember?”
She sighs. “Right. Yeah no, I’m not on my period.”
“You on the pill?”
“Yeah. Are we having the sex talk right now?”
I chuckle. “No, G. That is the last thing I want to be having with you right now.”
“So insulting. Aah.” She closes her eyes and presses her hand against her lower belly, pain etched in her features. “God, this really hurts.”
“I’m taking you to the emergency room,” I say, panic flaring inside me, sending me straight over the edge. I rise to my feet and hurriedly look around, spotting Jake first. “I’m out of here.”
He comes rushing toward me, concern in his gaze. “What’s wrong?”
“She’s not feeling well.” I gesture to Gracie, who’s sitting up with her eyes closed, concentrating on her breathing. “Maybe her appendix?”
“Oh shit.” Jake’s frown deepens. “You okay to drive?”
“I barely had one beer and some of her White Claw.” I wave a hand at Gracie. “I should be fine.”
I feel fuckin’ sober as hell right now, knowing Gracie is in pain and there’s nothing I can do about it.
“What’s going on?” Hayden appears, crouching down beside the couch and grabbing hold of Gracie’s hand. “Are you okay, babe? What’s up?”
“I don’t know. It hurts.” Gracie rests her hand on her front. “Right here.”
Hayden glances up, her gaze meeting mine. “Has she been complaining about pain?”
I slowly shake my head. “Not until just now.”
“Are you sober?”
“Hell yes.”
“Thank God,” Hayden says. “Is there an urgent care open up here at this time of night?”
“No,” Eli says with a shake of his head. “He’s going to have to take her to Fresno.”
“Not a problem.” Growing up around here, I know all the shortcuts. I can get her to Fresno quick.
“I don’t need to go to the emergency room,” Gracie protests, her voice weak. “Seriously, I can go to the campus medical center tomorrow morning. I’ll be fine.”
“No,” I say firmly. “You shouldn’t wait. You look pale, G. You need to see a doctor. Make sure you’re all right.”
Her face turns even paler, thanks to what I just said. I don’t mean to scare her, but shit. I don’t want to risk it. She needs medical attention, and I don’t think she should wait.
I grab her hand, giving it a squeeze. “You’re gonna be okay. I’ve got you.”
Gracie’s gaze locks with mine. “You promise?”
I nod, not knowing if I can keep my promise, but I’m going to do my damnedest to stand by it. “Promise.”
Sixteen
Gracie
I thought I was going to die.
Not from the pain—though it’s intense, but it comes in waves.
No, I thought I was going to die thanks to the way Caleb drove.
He was scared. I could see it in his eyes, on his face. He looked petrified. And he drove like a maniac, taking corners way too fast, driving down the mountain like a man possessed. He passed every slow car he came up behind and it didn’t matter if he crossed a double yellow line to do it. After a while, it became easier to just close my eyes and pretend it wasn’t happening. That way I wouldn’t see my impending death upon impact.
Somehow, we made it to the hospital in one piece. And now I’m in a hospital gown laid up on a hospital bed somewhere in the depths of the emergency room, unable to sleep while Caleb dozes in the chair next to the bed, his big body slumped over in the most uncomfortable position I think I’ve ever seen.
He’s still cute though. And sweet. Look at him running to my rescue when I needed him. Hayden and I accused Jackson Rivers of having a major hero complex when it came to his now girlfriend, Ellie. He was always trying to save her, and after a while, she hated it.
But no one has really ever tried to save me before. This is a first. And despite my need to be a strong, independent woman, I have to admit it was really nice to have him swoop in and completely take over.
When you’re in pain, you don’t want to deal. If I’d been at home, I’d have popped a couple of Ibuprofen and gone to bed early. By morning, I would’ve felt better. How do I know this?
Because I’ve been in this exact scenario before. A couple of times, in fact, over the last oh, six months or so. I just never bothered to tell anyone because the pain always stopped by the next day and I sort of forgot about it.
It wasn’t letting me forget last night though. Nope, the pain was shouting at me, making me miserable. Reminding me that I was in a mega bad way and I needed to do something about it, stat. It was like the most excruciating cramps I’ve ever dealt with.
The emergency room nurse told me it could be a number of things, but she wasn’t very specific. Caleb tried his best to drill her with questions, but she would just smile and nod politely, never giving him much information. I’m sure they’re not allowed to speculate, which I totally get, but it was still super fr
ustrating.
“Hello.” A sing-song voice sounds from behind the curtain, just before a woman in scrubs pulls it back, a pleasant smile on her face. “I hear you’re having some pain?” she asks me.
I nod, trying to smile. “Feels like cramps.”
“But you’re not on your period?” She has a clipboard in her hand and she’s scanning my information. “You don’t think you’re pregnant, do you?”
“Ha!” I bark out, rousing Caleb from his slumber. “No.”
“Hmm.” She flips a page up, reading it before she glances over at me. “I’d like to perform an ultrasound on you.”
“What for?” I ask warily. “I don’t think I’m pregnant.”
“We do ultrasounds for all sorts of things.” She smiles reassuringly. “Let me check and make sure the room is open, and then I’ll wheel you on over there.”
She disappears before I can say anything else, and I glance over at Caleb to find he’s already watching me.
“Why do they think you’re pregnant?”
“Probably because they think I’m having a miscarriage. But I’m not.” I can’t remember the last time I had sex with someone.
“I’m glad you’re not,” he says before he yawns, stretching his arms above his head. “I fell asleep.”
“Yeah, you did. You even snored.”
He whips his head in my direction. “I did?”
“No. I’m teasing.” I smile, feeling sleepy. I give in and close my eyes.
“You still in pain, G?” He’s suddenly right next to me, his fingers in my hair, brushing it away from my forehead, and it feels so nice, so sweet, that I can forgive him for nearly killing me on the highway.
“It’s not so bad,” I murmur, enjoying the sensation of his fingers gently raking through my hair. “That feels good.”
“Yeah? I’ll keep doing it.” He says nothing for a while and I revel in the sensation of being taken care of. Knowing this big guy is watching out for me and will protect me no matter what. It’s a nice feeling. One I’m not really used to.
Guys rarely stick around long enough to even want to take care of me, not that I need a man. I prefer to be on my own, doing my thing. I can handle whatever comes my way.
But it’s kind of nice, how attentive Caleb is being. How much he seems to genuinely care about my well-being.
“You scared me,” he murmurs after a few minutes, pulling me out of my sleepy state. “I could tell you were in pain.”
“No one else noticed.” Not even Hayden, and we were hanging out together the entire time.
“Maybe I’m always paying real close attention to you. Closer than anyone else,” he says, his fingers still stroking my hair.
I crack one eye open. “You sound like a stalker.”
“I think you like it.” He chuckles. Even grumpy and tired, he’s sexy. I wish I could pull him into this bed with me, feel that big, hard body cuddled up next to mine but that wouldn’t work. There’s hardly any room on this bed, and I don’t want to seem too clingy.
“I like you,” I admit, tightly squeezing my eyes closed. I’m tired and in pain and feeling vulnerable right now. “Thank you for bringing me to the emergency room.”
Caleb shifts, coming closer to me, and I feel his mouth move against my forehead. “I would do anything for you.”
I take those six words to heart and savor them. Does he really mean that? I want to believe he does.
I want to believe it so badly.
I’m in a darkened room on an examination table, my legs spread wide and my feet in stirrups while I stare at a screen. I’m having a transvaginal ultrasound, which means I currently have a wand up my vagina and we’re looking at my internal reproductive organs.
Not the way I envisioned the night ending, that’s for sure. And I made sure Caleb wasn’t allowed in here. He tried to come in with me, insisting to the nurse that he was my boyfriend, the little sneak, but I refused to let him enter the room.
“Your boyfriend was persistent,” the doctor says to me as she taps at the keys on the computer keyboard.
I don’t bother correcting her. “He’s very determined when he wants to be.” Which is pretty much all the time.
“I’ll say.” She studies the screen, before reaching forward and pointing at a dark spot with her pen. “Looks like you have a fibroid.”
I frown. “Really?”
“Yes,” she says firmly, tapping at the dark spot. “That’s it, right there. You’d be surprised how many women get them, but we never realize it. Sometimes they can grow rather large and cause some discomfort. Even pain. We can even have a lot of them. Looks like I can only see the one, so that’s good.”
“What should I do about it?”
“Remind me again about a few things. Are your periods heavy?”
“They have been lately,” I admit.
“Strong cramps?”
“Sometimes.”
“Anyone in your family who’s had fibroids?”
“If they have, no one’s told me about it,” I say.
“Are you on birth control?”
“Yes, I am. I have been since I was seventeen.” I frown. “Could being on the pill cause this?”
“No, that’s usually not the case.” She studies the screen, her eyes narrowing as she concentrates. “This fibroid isn’t too large. I’m just surprised it’s causing you pain. You do have a few options in regards to treatment, which I will be glad to go over with you.”
I listen as she discusses a few options. I could have an ablation, which I’ve heard of, but then I probably couldn’t get pregnant afterwards.
Like…ever.
Possibly surgery, which sounds scary, but that’s only in extreme situations. She describes a focused ultrasound where they send waves into my uterus that helps break up the fibroids, which sounds like the safest procedure for me.
“I recommend you make an appointment with your gynecologist and have another ultrasound. I’m sure you and your doctor can come up with a proper treatment plan.” She smiles and pulls the freaking wand out of my vagina.
We chat a little more about my options, and what I should do to help ease the pain. Ibuprofen and rest is her recommendation. I should take tomorrow—well, actually today—off of work. Maybe the next day too.
By the time we’re finished and I’ve been released, I’m a sleepy, confused mess. I stagger into Caleb’s arms, who makes me wait on a bench in front of the emergency room entrance so he can go get his car and pull right up to the curb. I let him steer me into the car. I even let him put my seatbelt on me so I don’t have to lift a finger. He’s so attentive, all I can do is watch him fuss over me, murmuring a thank you before he shuts the car door.
“The doctor said I shouldn’t go to work. She even wrote me a note.” I hold it up to show him.
He sends a quick stern look in my direction. “You shouldn’t go to work then.”
“I need the money though. My time is winding down. I’ve saved up a lot of my earnings this summer, but I don’t know if it’ll be enough. I was thinking of asking Michelle if I could work weekends at the fountain until the season ends,” I say, nibbling on my lower lip. It’ll be exhausting, working two jobs, seven days a week, but do I really have a choice?
I don’t think so.
“You won’t be able to come to my games,” he says, sounding dejected.
“Do you really want me there? Would you even notice? Don’t you have enough fangirls supporting you in Bulldog stadium?” I rest my head against the seat and close my eyes, grateful that he’s driving a lot slower than before.
“Damn, you know how to wound a man with just a few choice words.”
I pop my eyes open to watch him rubbing at his chest, as if I actually hurt his heart.
“I’m sorry. It’s been a long night,” I murmur. “I’m tired. Grumpy.”
I don’t want to hurt him when he’s been so thoughtful and caring. Showing me a completely different side of him. He was so quick to come
to my aid, stepping in as if he knew I needed him, which I did.
He proved to me I can depend on him. I can trust he’ll be there when I need him.
No one’s ever really done that for me before.
“Are you still in pain?” he asks.
“Not really.”
“I’ll run you a hot bath when we get home,” he suggests.
I turn to look at him. “You’d do that for me?”
“My mom always liked soaking in her tub after a long, tiring day. It’ll relax you.” He shrugs, seemingly uncomfortable.
Maybe he’s not used to tender gestures toward the opposite sex. I know I’m surprised by it. “I’d like that.”
“Then I’ll do it for you,” he says, shifting in his seat.
“That’s very—sweet of you.” I pause. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
We’re quiet for only a moment before I say, “We’re not very good at this, are we?”
“What?”
“Being nice to each other.”
“Actually, I think we’re pretty good at it. Until we start…dissecting what we’re doing.” He sends me a quick glance. “Maybe we should just stop questioning everything. We’re so busy fighting it when we could go with the flow and let it happen naturally.”
“I think you’re right.” I close my eyes. Practically melt into the seat when I feel Caleb’s hand touch my bare knee and give it a gentle squeeze. “You’re a good friend, Caleb.”
“I try.” He gives my knee another squeeze. “You scared the shit out of me earlier, G. I don’t like seeing you in pain, especially when there’s nothing I can do about it.”
Now it’s my heart’s turn to melt. “I appreciated you forcing me to go to the emergency room. Thank God I’m still on my parents’ health insurance.”
“Soon you’ll be on your own. You’ll be a teacher with your own insurance. And your own class,” he says. “You excited?”
“Scared,” I admit. “Nervous. I’d hoped to live it up this summer, but instead I got too caught up working and worrying over my savings account.”
The Junior (College Years Book 3) Page 15