Frail. Every inch of her screams frail, not the vibrant, feisty spitfire or the sexy siren that keeps knocking me on my ass with one look or a few words.
“Fuck,” Breckin whispers behind me, his hands reaching up into his hair.
Yeah, fuck is right. He should have come over here sooner. This ain’t no ‘just tired,’ ‘doesn't feel good,’ or whatever bullshit. Her body spasms again, constricting everything inside my chest like a black hole. I swear, it’s so tight, it might just explode. Fuck. I should’ve checked on her this morning.
Kneeling down beside her, I gently stroke her side. “Hey, Little Girl,” I whisper even softer, waiting until her teary eyes meet mine, “is there some sort of medication that you need?”
She shakes her head. “No . . . I already –” Her hand flies over her mouth as she dry heaves.“Um . . . Why are you . . .” Her body jolts again.
“Shh, you know you can’t shake me that easily.” I do a quick once over. Nausea, shaking, possibly a seizure, and no medication. That’s more than Breckin or I can handle. “Alright, little one, I think we need to get you to a doctor.”I hope there’s a hospital close by.
She nods. It’s faint, but it’s there. “Yeah.” I glance at her feet, then over my shoulder at my brother.
“Got it.” He nods before darting out of the room.
I find a washcloth on her sink and run it through the hot water. She throws up again in the toilet, beads of sweat coating her forehead.Should I use cold water?
I run my hand through my hair, then switch the water to cold. Fuck, I wish I knew what was wrong or what to do. I feel like a fish with no water just flopping around.
Kneeling back down, I brush her hair back so it’s at least off her face. “Alright, Little Girl, I’m gonna wipe your face off, get you cleaned up a bit. That alright?” The last thing I wanna do is scare her or do something that might make her start puking again.
Her shoulders sag, like she’s got no fight left in her. After a minute, she nods.
“Do you know what's wrong?” I ask as I wipe her cheeks and forehead.
“A-attack,” she stutters as I fold the cloth and glide it across her neck.
“What type of attack?” God, it would really help if I knew more or if I paid attention in all my first-aid classes.
She bites her bottom lip, her head swaying like she’s about to lose her lunch again. “A . . . Bad.”
I furrow my eyebrows. No shit it’s bad, but I can’t do anything if I don’t know what I’m dealing with.Maybe she ate something bad?
“Yo,” I ask Breckin when he rushes into the cramped space holding a pair of sneakers, “you had breakfast together, right? Did it bother your stomach at all?”
He shakes his head. “No. I feel fine.”
From the floor, Asra moans. “Just a bad . . . Flare.”
I glance at Breckin. He shakes his head. Great, he can’t figure it out, either.
“Alright, little thing, shoe time.” I grab the sneakers and slip them on her feet. “Come on, let’s get you up.”
Hooking my arms under hers, I hoist her up. She grunts and pushes me away, using the sink counter to hold her weight.
“I . . . I got it.”
“You sure? I can carry you.” I reach for her again, but she swats me away.
With her arm wrapped around her waist, hunched over, she nods. “I got it.” Her frail body sways a little, like she might topple over at any second.
“Okay, easy steps.” I stay close to her as she wobbles on her feet. Damn, I don’t think I’ve ever been that sick. I’d give anything to trade places with her, help her feel better and see that fire in her again.
She makes her way out of the bathroom, still hunched over with Breckin and I right beside her. One hand glides along the wall, her other stays wrapped around her waist. After three slow, rough steps, she trips over her own feet, nearly falling.
“Okay, Prude, you might not like me much right now,” I bend down and scoop her up, “but we’ve gotta get you to the hospital. And I’d prefer it to be in one piece and sometime today.”
She doesn’t fight or fuss this time. Instead, she leans into me, her head resting on my shoulder. Something settles inside my chest despite my worry. She’s here, in my arms. “I got you, Little Girl.” I kiss the top of her head and hurry out of her house.