17. Something's wrong with Austin

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Time was running out fast. I could feel it from the tingling in my hands to the erratic beating of my heart — why was I suddenly finding it so damn hard to realize the end was near? Probably because she made me feel new—like a new beginning.

~Austin~

I gripped the counter and told myself to keep all the contents of my stomach in, instead of out.

My cell rang.

Ethan.

I pressed ignore and started my typical breathing exercises.

It wasn't healthy for me to panic.

In and out, in and out.

I held my breath and chanced another look in the mirror.

My phone went off again.

This time it was James.

Time for your next set of meds.

Right, like I wanted to take more pills that made me feel shittier, and quite possibly would ruin my date.

I'm fine.

I texted back and slipped the phone into my pocket.

I flexed my arms as I braced the counter and breathed in and out through my nose as the nausea came and went. I couldn't go on like this. The last set of drugs before Christmas were supposed to be the strongest, the doctor's final hat trick, only I was worried they were hurting more than helping. If I had to keep taking them I wouldn't be able to play football. I wouldn't be able to run. I wouldn't be able to live. I'd be lying in bed sick as a dog as the days ran into each other, until finally, I just didn't wake up.

"Hey." The door pushed open.

Dez walked himself right in and shut the door behind him. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Not the time, Dez."

"The hell it isn't!" He grabbed me by the shirt, not a smart move considering I was ready to puke and he was very close to me, but whatever. I was too weak to care.

"What the hell are you taking? Oxy? Meth?"

I laughed.

Not because it was funny, but because for a second I wished it was a drug problem.

Shit, how pathetic was that?

"No." I bit down on my lip. The nausea was finally passing, the feeling returning to my extremities. "Nothing like that."

"You better not be messing with her." Dez released me and hit the door with his hand. "I swear I'll kill you if you hurt her."

"I just want to be her friend. Honest." I lied. I wanted more.

But people didn't always get what they wanted.

The nausea came back full force, causing me to double over in pain as, I swear, knives started attacking my stomach. "Hold on, give me a second."

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