by Anna Edwards
“I’ll make sure I tidy up before you come around to mine then.”
“I’d love to come to your place and meet your mum. How did she develop her anxiety?”
“It all relates back to when she split up with my father. He left us with nothing. He was a total waste of space.” Her demeanor changes while she tells me this as anger taints her memories.
“You don’t see him anymore?”
She shakes her head.
“He died shortly after I finished university.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.” She sits up. “Is there any more cake?”
“We’ve finished the one piece. I’ll go and get the other from the kitchen.”
I lean forward and press a kiss to her lips before I get up. She tastes of chocolate cake and Chiara. A lethal mixture to my senses.
“Hurry back.” Chiara snuggles under the blanket and turns back to the film. I pick up the empty plate and head to the kitchen. My head is feeling a little woozy as I place the dirty dish into the sink before retrieving a clean one for the other piece of cake. I need to check my sugar levels. Opening one of the kitchen drawers, I pull out a sugar monitor. I turn it on and set it to check my blood. On the side of the little black device is a needle safely caged away that’s designed, at the press of a button, to puncture the tip of my finger and draw blood. I place it over my finger and press down. Even now after nine years, I still want to curse when it bites down into my skin. I wait a moment for the blood to float to the surface and then place it onto the testing paper. It whirls around into the machine, and I wait for the results….
‘14’
Shit, that’s high. The cake must have had more sugar in it than I thought—either that, or I was being delusional that the fudge icing was healthy for me...probably both. I place the monitor back in the drawer and retrieve a NovoRapid dispenser from it. I keep one dispenser in the drawer in the house and the other in my medical case. I forgot my medical case once when I was out, and when I got home, I had to start a new dispenser. Since then I’ve found it easier to have two dispensers on the go: one to use when I’m at home, and the other when I’m elsewhere. They last a month when taken out of the fridge and used for the first time, so I’m not wasting them in the long run. I screw the needle on top of the dispenser and release the air. Leaning back against the counter, I do a quick mathematical calculation to work out how much insulin I’ll need. I factor in another bout of strenuous sexercise with Chiara and potentially some more cake. Pushing the needle into my stomach, I shut my eyes and allow the drug I administer, the drug that saves my life, to flood into my system.
“What the fuck?” Chiara’s voice fills the kitchen, and my eyes flash open. “No,” she exclaims. Her eyes are filled with shock and horror.
“Chiara?”
I pull the needle out and step toward her, but she quickly backs away from me.
“No, not you.” Tears fill her eyes.
“Chiara, listen to me.”
“No,” she interrupts and runs back into the lounge. She grabs her bag from where it was left on the floor, and before I have a chance to stop her, she’s out of the door and has disappeared into the darkness of the night.
Chapter Five
Chiara
This weekend has been the worst one of my life – and not just because of the half-naked ride home I’d had to get my best friend to give me. Now it’s Monday again, and I have to face Alex. He called me several times over the weekend, but I never answered. All his text messages were deleted unread. I eventually got so furious with him I threw my phone across my bedroom, and it smashed into a wall, so now it’s not possible to use it anyway. Jerk! Bastard! How could he be doing drugs…why did he have to be just like my father? Am I a magnet for addicts or something? I must have a sign slapped on my forehead saying I’m available to be abused by drug addicts because I’m a stupid fool. He didn’t even have any of the indicators. Fuck, he works with kids.
I bang my head on my desk as my first class of the day files into the room. It’s Bethany and Luke’s year group. Someone hated me when this schedule was developed. Last thing on a Friday and first thing on a Monday…the two times when as a teacher you are destined to get the least interaction with your students.
“Good morning, class.” I try to muster a smile. I’d traveled in early this morning and have been hiding in my classroom ever since. Thankfully jerk-face hasn’t tried to come and see me. Let’s hope he hasn’t come in today—maybe even left the school for good.
“Morning, Miss Romano,” my class chants.
“Can you open your textbooks to page one, two, five, please? We’ll continue where we left off on Friday.”
“Miss.” Bethany puts her hand straight up in the air.
“Yes, Bethany.”
“Can’t we do something a bit more interesting, please. Flowers are so boring.” She finishes her sentence with a pop of gum. Rule breaking again. I don’t have the energy to argue with her though. I’ve barely slept the last few days.
How can I have found the man of my dreams, and he turns out to be a drug addict? Tears pool in my eyes, I just want to go home and curl back up in a little ball again. It doesn’t help that I can still feel him between my thighs after the best sex ever, and it’s probably as a result of a drug induced high. I wonder if he even remembers it. Thank fuck we used a condom. I’ll still get checked though because accidents happen.
“How about you ask me anything you’re not sure on, and I can go over it?”
“Yes. That!” Bethany claps. Luke blows her a kiss, and she scowls at him. Little does she know men are all jerks…might as well get used to it. They’re all the same as Luke and Alex. Humanity is doomed.
“Bethany, do you want to go first?” Having stood up when they’d first come into the classroom, I now sit back down and slump into my chair.
“Yes, Miss. Why does semen taste so salty?”
The entire class erupts into laughter at her question, and I wish I could die. I don’t need this today.
A knock at my classroom door interrupts my torture until I realize it’s Alex. I wave him away, but he enters the room anyway.
“Hi, Mr. Underwood,” Bethany calls out. “Miss Romano was just going to explain to us why semen tastes so salty.”
Alex gives me a questioning look. He looks as tired as I feel. Obviously, a heavy weekend spent injecting.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Underwood?” I ask politely, no need to make a fuss in front of the class. Calling him a dickwad will only encourage these particular pupils.
“Can I have a quick word outside please? It won’t take long.” He’s carrying a bag in his hands and is tightly clutching it. He looks nervous, probably scared I’m going to rat him out to the headteacher, and he’ll lose his job. Serves him right. I’ve no intention of giving him the time of day.
“I’m very sorry, but as you can see, I’m teaching at the moment.” I give him another polite smile and turn back to the question from Bethany.
“It’s alkaline…that is why. It needs to be, so it can survive in the acidic vaginal environment,” Alex answers before I have a chance to say anything. I glare at him.
“Thank you, Mr. Underwood.” I’ve had enough…I need out of here. “As you seem such an authority on the topic my class wants to discuss, then maybe you can teach it.” Getting to my feet, I stomp from the classroom, ready to head in the direction of Mrs. White’s office. Our headmistress needs to know if one of her teachers is doing drugs.
“Chiara, wait.” Alex follows behind me and grabs my arm. “Will you listen to me?”
“There is nothing to listen to, Alex. I’ve seen it all before. Want to know why I hate my father? He was a heroin addict. Shot himself up until the day he died.”
I pull away from my fellow teacher, and he stumbles back. I hadn’t noticed before, but he’s sweating all over. Another symptom of drug addiction.
“I’m not. I mean. You think I’m doing dru
gs?”
“I don’t think. I saw on Friday night.”
A collective gasp comes from my classroom door, and peering over Alex’s shoulder, I see several of the pupils including Luke and Bethany standing at the door, observing what’s going on.
“Chiara, I’m not doing drugs.” Alex can barely get the words out. He’s swaying on the spot now. “I’m… I’m diabetic.” He inhales a deep breath and then collapses to the ground, unconscious.
Shit.
Fuck.
Diabetic.
I kneel down beside him, and his skin feels clammy. His breathing is shallow.
“Miss?” Luke stands over me.
“You got your phone on you?” I ask him.
He nods.
“Call an ambulance. Bethany, go get Mrs. White. The rest of you back in class.”
Luke dials the number and stands next to me, shaking. Bethany’s heels echo down the hallway as she disappears in search of the head teacher.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I nag at Alex who is slipping into a diabetic coma in front of me.
“Yes, it’s our teacher…he’s collapsed. I’m not sure if its drugs or…” Luke talks into his phone.
“It’s not drugs,” I snap. “He’s diabetic, and I think he’s gone hypo.”
Luke repeats what I say to the dispatcher.
“They say to check if he’s got a glucagon kit.”
“Of course.” I remember learning about this when studying. If a person is in an unconscious hypo, you can’t give them physical sugar to revive them, not even a liquid, because they could choke. They should carry an injection with them to administer. I scramble around next to him for his bag and open it. It contains his sugar monitor, spare needles, insulin pens, and sweets in the event of a hypo. As I dig deeper, I find the glucagon kit I’m looking for.
“Ask them what I need to do with it.” I get Luke to relay my message.
“They say you have to release the powder into the bed of the needle which contains water and let them mix together. It needs to be done slowly, or it will fizz up too much.” I do as instructed, taking a full minute to get the liquid mixed together. All the time Alex is unresponsive on the floor. Mrs. White and Bethany run up to join us.
“Have you called for an ambulance?” Mrs. White instantly asks. “He’s diabetic. He didn’t want anyone to know because of trouble he’s had in the past.”
“He told me just before he collapsed.”
I squirt the air out of the needle and prepare it for injecting. I don’t really know what I’m doing, but I’m going on instinct and what I’ve learnt from the biology I’ve studied.
“Where do I put it?” I ask Luke and once again he relays the question to the dispatcher.
“Into his thigh. Don’t worry about pulling his trousers down. The needle’s strong enough to go through the material.”
I take a deep breath to steady myself before pushing the long and rather scary looking needle into Alex’s thigh. I administer the liquid, and we all sit back and wait for it to work with the sound of the ambulance approaching in the background.
Chapter Six
Alex
The thumping headache and achy body tell me I really should have eaten something after I’d injected my insulin earlier, but all I could think about was speaking to Chiara. A big mistake that fortunately a few hours in hospital will fix together with a check-up and more injections to stabilize me.
“How are you feeling?” I instantly recognize the soft feminine voice as that of the angel who I spent a lot of Friday night inside and the rest of the weekend stressing over. I should’ve told her as soon as we sat down to the table to eat. I’m so stupid to have worried about what she would think because the reality is, she thought something a lot worse.
“Ok,” I reply weakly. I’m sure the whole school knows by now I’m diabetic. I bet I won't have a job to go back to tomorrow.
“I’m sorry, Alex. I jumped to the wrong conclusion.” Chiara leans forward over my hospital bed and takes my hand. “I should have listened to you.”
“No, I should have told you and not hidden it.”
She lets out a sob…a combination of emotion and shock.
“We’re both idiots then.”
I shake my head and instantly regret moving it.
“No, just affected by the past. Your father?”
“I was the one who found him. I’d gone to see him because I wanted to try one last time to save him. Even though I’d told myself countless times it wasn't worth it because he was already too far gone, I just had to try again. I don't know how long he’d been dead, but the smell will stay with me forever, and I’ve smelled some disgusting things as a biologist. I remember his face was serene like he was just asleep. He looked so peaceful. Well, as peaceful as someone can be with a needle sticking out of their arm and decomposition setting it.”
I hate the thought of Chiara finding her father in that state and instantly understand why she reacted the way she did when she saw me injecting my insulin. I can't feel upset any longer about her thinking I was a drug addict. It’s a perfectly logical conclusion to jump to when you consider her past experiences with needles, and the fact I’d never given any indication that I was diabetic. I change the position of our hands and wrap my large one around her tiny fingers.
“I’m sorry I never told you about my diabetes. I should have told you the second we became closer. I had issues when I was first diagnosed, and it’s left me secretive about my condition. You asked why an Oxford graduate isn't working for the government…well I was. My job was to use coding and mathematics to try to break various secrets of vital importance to national security. In the wake of advances in terrorism, a whole new warfare was born, and I was welcomed with open arms because of my degree and abilities.” I reminisce within my head about the fun I had cracking the codes and preventing plots from succeeding. I still develop codes for myself sometimes just to try and break them—it’s not as much fun, but a darn sight easier. I’m the quintessential math geek at heart. “When I was diagnosed, I found myself being passed over for certain jobs and promotions. Spending more time stuck at my desk doing mundane work. When I queried it, my boss was upfront and said some of the agents had declined to work with me because of the risks involved with trying to ensure my sugars remained constant. In the end, I gave up trying at the job. I hated it, so I left and fell into teaching, accidentally. Wherever I’ve worked, I’ve never informed anyone but the head of the school of my diagnosis.”
“That’s awful.” Chiara leans forward in her chair and brushes her other hand over my brow. I shut my eyes and enjoy her soft touch, remembering only too well how she caressed my dick and balls a few nights ago. “You shouldn't have to hide something that’s a part of you.” Her fingers touch the tips of mine. “I wondered why they were rough the other night.”
“Nine years of testing can leave the skin a bit damaged. They have a new device out called a Libre meter. A sensor is inserted into your arm and you change it once every two weeks. It allows you just to wave a scanner over your arm to monitor your sugar levels. I’ve wanted one for a while now, but I was concerned people would see it and question me about it in the summer months when I wear shorter sleeves.”
“You should get one,” she replies adamantly. “Can we get the nurses here in this hospital to give you one?”
“They’re only available in certain areas, at the moment. I’d have to check.”
We both fall into silence, and I eventually pluck up the courage to break it.
“What happens now? I really like you, and before the incident the other night, we seemed to be getting on really well.”
“It was fabulous.” She giggles. “I’m still sore.”
“Don’t get me excited. I’m sure they’ll want a urine sample at some point, and that isn’t the easiest thing to do with a hard-on.”
Chiara throws back her head and lets out a long laugh, which warms my slightly jaded soul. Our
insecurities and past experiences nearly tore us apart, but we have a chance now.
“I want to still see you, if that is ok?” Chiara nibbles nervously on her lip.
“Thank fuck!” I exclaim, pulling her toward me and into a passionate kiss. “One rule though…no more secrets. If something happens to one of us that’s going to affect the other, we have to tell them and be completely honest. Don’t sugar coat it!”
THE END
About Anna Edwards
International Bestselling Author
Thank you so much for supporting this amazing charity. It’s because of readers like you that we can do these incredible things, and if you liked the content, please consider leaving a review.
You can follow Anna on any of the social platforms below:
Profile: TheAuthorAnnaEdwards
Group: http://bit.ly/2UMqycy
Newsletter sign up: http://eepurl.com/cwxJ6v
Email: [email protected]
Dedication
To all of the heroes who help make our world a safer place to live, who help others when they need it, and who shine love and light in the places that need it most. I just want you to know, I see you. I respect you. I’m thankful for YOU.
Chapter One
Chase
“What the fuck is this, Dawson?” I tossed the file onto his keyboard and folded my arms. “A babysitting mission?”
He arched a dark brow, his square jaw clenching. “I’m going to need to call you back, Senator.” His deep tenor held an apology, one his piercing blue eyes said I owed him for the blatant interruption.