"He was on the beach?"
"Yes, and now he's left. I think he might be sick."
"Whoa. Start again. Slow down," she said slowly, giving me a chance to say what I meant clearly instead of raving.
"He seemed all right when he arrived at the luau, but then I saw him go down to the edge of the water and just sit there on his own. I felt guilty that he might not be having a good time, so I went over there. We talked for a few minutes, but then he started acting weird."
"Weird how?"
"Fidgety. He started sweating and sounded out of breath. I think he might be ill or something. When I asked him, he said he was fine and just left, practically running away from me."
“I wouldn’t be that worried. If he came in the first place, then I wouldn’t say he’s that bad. Maybe he just wanted to lie down.”
“Who just wanted to lie down?” Joseph’s sharp voice asked cutting into our conversation. Makani looked at me to tell him.
“Nate. Mr. Stone. The guy in the Hulopoe suite,” I explained. “He left the luau saying he felt a little ill.”
“Where is he now?” he asked.
“He went back to his suite,” I said, glad he was stepping in.
“Go check on him. Make sure he’s okay.” What? Go check on him? That would have been what I had done as Abby the person, not Abby the employee. Wasn’t that a little weird? Nate was an important guest, but this sounded a little like an invasion of privacy.
“Okay, I can do that,” I said, keeping my concerns to myself, figuring he knew what he was doing.
“Take some meds up to him. He might need something,” Joseph instructed. Nurse Abby, reporting for duty. I told Makani I’d be back and went back to the main building. Wouldn't it be better to call a doctor? I thought.
Maybe it wasn't anything serious. I'd go and check on him first so we didn't end up calling one for nothing. What did I need? I went into the staff changing room and hunted for the first aid kit. There wasn't much to choose from in there. Antacids, antihistamines, painkillers, Pepto, and cough medicine. I frowned. I'd just carry the whole thing.
I got nervous going up to his suite. It was probably nothing. He had made it all the way up himself. Maybe it was food poisoning or something. I got to the door and took a deep breath. I raised my arm to knock, but noticed it wasn't closed. It was ajar like he'd walked in without realizing he'd left it open.
Go inside, I thought. No. I couldn't do that. That was so unprofessional. This wasn't a supermarket, I couldn’t just walk in. I knocked the door gently so it didn't swing open. I waited before trying again, a little harder. Still nothing. Was he asleep? Was he even in there? Okay. I had knocked, so I wasn't just barging into a guest's room uninvited. I pushed to door open slowly.
"Hello? Nate?" I called. He wasn't in the living area. I checked the bathroom before finally deciding to check the bedroom. The door was wide open, so I walked in. The sliding double door to the terrace was wide open. I thought about going to close it before the sight of Nate stopped me cold. I dropped the first aid kit, causing it to pop open and everything to spill over the floor.
My hand went over my mouth, and my mind went blank. Nate was on the couch near his bed. He slumped over one side like he was asleep. The hoodie he had been wearing was on the floor. One of his arms was tucked under him and the other was hanging loosely off the side of the couch. The skin of his arm was pockmarked red with inflamed scars and stuck in his arm, precariously hanging, was a syringe.
Oh, my God. Nate. I walked over to him, petrified that he wasn't sleeping and something worse had happened. I was shaking as I stood over him. I watched his body, finally seeing the slight rise and fall of his chest, breathing in and out. I didn't know what I was looking at. All I knew was that I wanted to get out of there. I rushed back to the floor, haphazardly reassembling the first aid kit.
What had I just seen? I tried to forget the worst part of the image. I thought I knew so much about him. I knew he liked to drink and that he was a troublemaker, but this?
I let myself out and closed his door for him. Nobody else needed to see that.
Chapter Nine
Nate
I was awake a little while befor
e I got up. I opened my eyes and squinted because of how bright it was. I raised my head and looked around. I'd fallen asleep on the couch. I didn't have a headache, which was good — I wasn't hung-over. I didn't feel dope sick, either. I sat up, hearing something falling on the floor.
It was a needle. Right. I'd bailed on Abby's luau to come here and shoot up. I picked the needle up and checked my arm. No pain, no swelling. I hadn't botched it. I tossed it in the trash as I hunted for my phone to figure out what time it was. It was on the bed. Noon, as usual, it seemed. That was just when I seemed to get up no matter how early I'd passed out the night before.
Speaking of that night before, it had almost gone well. It probably would have been more fun if I'd shot up before I went, but still, I could think of at least a hundred ways it could have been worse.
I drank some water and got under the shower feeling strangely good, good compared to the way I usually felt, at least, which was horrible. I got out and got dressed, searching for where I'd left the in-room dining menu.
It was lunchtime, right? Why didn't I just go out and eat? I ate in my room all the time. It was getting charged to the room either way. I had like five different restaurants to choose from; it might even be fun.