“A thank you is sufficient enough. There is no need for you to throw a hissy fit. You’re already a snitch in the eyes of every single student and staff member here. Now you snitch on the cafeteria staff by telling the doctor you aren’t being given food?”
“It’s not a lie.”
“It’s a snitch move. Keep your mouth shut. It’s your biggest downfall.” The sound of the chair scraping against the tile floor forces me to drag my eyes open again, and I see Quinton pushing out of the chair.
“Where are you going?” I ask, trying not to sound like I care. He’s obviously been here a while, and I’m fine now, so what does it matter if he leaves?
“If you must know, I’m going back to my room to sleep for a few hours. I’ve been here for hours making sure your ass didn’t die on me before I can get my full use out of you. I have class in a few hours, and I haven’t slept a wink.”
All I can do is roll my eyes.
“Of course, all you care about is my usefulness to you.”
“Shut up and go to sleep before I put you to sleep.”
“You don’t have to be so aggressive.”
“Go to sleep, Aspen,” he orders, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
I watch him walk to the door and then snap my eyes closed, pretending like I don’t give a shit what he does. Really, I don’t. I just don’t like how dismissive he is of me or the fact that the cafeteria is the reason I’m currently hospitalized. I’m not a snitch for speaking the truth, and I didn’t do this to myself, which is what he wants the doctor to believe.
Silence settles around me, and I stay in a temporary state between half asleep and half awake, every little sound startling me. I’m feeling a lot better, which is all that matters to me at this point. I’m not sure how much time has passed or when I finally fall asleep, but the next time I open my eyes, I find Brittney sitting in the spot where Quinton was the first time I woke up.
“Hey, you!” she greets, concern etched into her features.
“Hey,” I croak.
“What happened? You look like someone put you through the food processor.”
A smile tugs onto my lips. “That’s because they did. Apparently, I have food poisoning, and I’m dehydrated and lacking minerals.”
Brittney gives me a stern look. “If you want to tell me what’s going on, you can. I won’t say anything. I just don’t want you to hurt yourself or be harmed by someone else.” I get the feeling she is referring to that night in the hall, which I never fully explained to her.
“If you’re wondering if I did this to myself, the answer is no. It’s also a very complicated situation, so I’ll leave it at the cafeteria hasn’t been offering me good food, and when I say good, I don’t mean delicious.” Brittney’s nose wrinkles. “Whenever I go to get food, it’s expired or near expiration. Sometimes, there isn’t anything at all, and on those days, I don’t eat. Quinton told me to shut up when I went to tell the doctor…”
I realize all too late that I’ve said too much and press my lips together to stop the rest of the word vomit from escaping.
Adjusting her glasses, she asks, “Quinton, as in the guy who I saw you with in the corridor the night we first met?”
I nod, and part of me wants to tell her he’s not really that bad of a guy, a lot unstable and a control freak at best, but I stop myself from doing that because it seems wrong. It seems like I’m enabling his behavior, and I don’t want to do that. No matter how fucked up someone is, it doesn’t mean they can treat people however they want.
“It’s a really long story, and I’m way too exhausted to get into it, but yeah, that’s how I ended up here.”
“I don’t like it. I don’t like that they aren’t giving you proper food.” Anger rises in her features, her cheeks become red, and her brows pinch together. I understand her anger all too well, but I didn’t tell her any of this because I want her sympathy or help.
“I don’t like it either, but there isn’t much I can do about it.” I shake my head, feeling like shit for what I’m about to say. “I don’t want you to feel bad for me either or to try to help. I’ve got enough attention on me for things that are out of my control.”
“Don’t you think your health is important enough to speak up over?” she asks me calmly.
“Yes, but I’m confiding in you as a friend, not a teacher, so please don’t make this into a bigger issue than it is. I’ll talk to the cafeteria. I’ll get it fixed.”
And I will, or at least, I’ll try.
“Now I’m going to worry about you even more.” The words out of her mouth make me still. It’s been so long since I’ve heard someone say they’re worried about me or that they even care about my existence.
“Don’t worry. I’m okay. As soon as I’m out of here, I’ll be back in the library bothering you.”
She nods, looking down at her hands resting in her lap before looking back up at me. The way she’s looking at me with such a somber, open expression is more than I can take, and I dart my eyes away to look at the blanket covering me.