Nao Summers hates drama, but life becomes full of it when he's paired with the school delinquent on a film project. He's also in dire need of a way to break up with his girlfriend who wants to have lots of sex, while Nao would prefer to die. To crow...
In that endless moment, I forgot all about Halloween, about Seth, and about Lily's sad smile under the limelight. At that moment, when the smell of alcohol permeated the air, and the ugly grin of a foolish football player threatened to tip my moral scales, I was no longer Nao Summers.
My fist ached as soon as it connected with the guy's jaw. The resounding smack was so loud it disturbed even the people inside the cafeteria. The music continued to blare on, a constant drum that settled in the pit of my stomach. I watched as the guy sank to the ground, seemingly in slow motion, and then I was out of there. Nao Summers existed somewhere in the back of my consciousness, but the person that sprinted up the stairs and down the hallway was in no way me.
My feet carried me through the corridors, my arms propelled me onward, and my ears ignored the shouts and protests from the people I passed. Halloween lights and decorations exploded as I crashed into them, almost like my body had no control over what it was doing anymore. I didn't even stop to collect my jacket from the impromptu wardrobe department. I was out the main doors in a heartbeat, feet still running, heart still hammering in my chest.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. I tore down main street, nearly colliding with an unsuspecting couple. Storefronts and curious people flew by, just dots of color in my vision.
The hospital was just across Neon Bridge and past the public university. Hopping on a bus would have been faster, but the thought of sitting still on a bus seat was more than I could handle. Instead, I sprinted over the bridge, ignoring the angry yells of an elderly woman I had bumped into in my haste. My stupid hat was beginning to irritate me, so I yanked it off and threw it off the bridge, abandoning it to the vicious riverbanks below. Who cared about a stupid costume now?
I arrived at the hospital in much the same way I had left December High: panting and crashing into things. A nurse began to chastise me for running her over, but I was already at the reception desk, heaving for air and gasping at the poor man before me. The scruffy-looking guy raised his eyebrows in puzzlement, scanning my defeated form from top to pointy toe.
"Montgomery," I tried again, lungs screaming behind my ribcage. "Axel... Montgomery..."
"Sir, it's past midnight, visiting hours are—"
"Please," I wheezed, resting my head on the desk. "It's important. I need to..."
A conflicted noise escaped the man, but he turned to his computer and clicked around for a bit. He sent me worried glances every now and then but kept searching his database for another minute.
"I'm sorry sir," the man said after a while. He was scratching the back of his neck. "The records show no patients with that name. I'm afraid you're mistaken."
I straightened and gave the man an incredulous stare. He was squirming in his seat.
"What?" I said. "But— Are you sure?"
"Certain, sir."
I turned around, heart stuttering more than beating now. Where was he, then? Wouldn't Axel be at the hospital if he was as hurt as the jerk from earlier implied? It had sounded like his injuries were serious...
Cold realization washed over me. I remembered Axel in his bedroom, hunched over and hugging himself, protecting himself from the world. I remembered his shaking body, his bloody hands, and how nonchalant he was about treating his wounds. I remembered Axel's brother, and how his life had ended long before his time. In a hospital.
He doesn't like hospitals. My body felt like ice as I staggered away from the reception area and out into the streets once more. The nurse from earlier was speaking with security, but I was long gone before anyone could apprehend me.
He doesn't like hospitals. Of course he didn't. Of course he wouldn't let the ambulance take him to the very same place his brother had died. It all made sense then, and I felt like a fool for heading there in the first place. It felt like time was running out, and I was wasting it in the wrong places.
He had to be home. It was the only place I knew Axel escaped to. With this knowledge in mind, I phoned for a taxi, knowing full well I'd be using up the last bit of my allowance on it.
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The city was a cold, unwelcoming place on that first night of November. Halloween festivities were still ongoing, even as Tuesday bled into Wednesday, and my cab passed by numerous flocks of partying students. The university clubs jumped on every opportunity to dress up and party. It was almost like an unspoken rule, written down in their student codex.
My hands were trembling in my lap. The cab driver would look at me through the rearview mirror every now and then, probably calculating the odds of me paying vs dashing upon arrival. I clutched my wallet and my phone in two clammy hands, leaning my chin against the cool window glass. He's got to be okay. The thought of Axel being not okay was impossible to bear, for reasons I didn't want to name. If his injuries were as serious as the guy had said, Axel would be far from okay. He might even be...
I shook my head, willing the chills and anxieties away. I had to keep it together. Nothing good would come out of me freaking out in the back of a taxi. If there was one thing I didn't need, it was to be escorted away for acting like a lunatic. All I could do was close my eyes and internalize the worries, praying that the taxi found Axel's apartment complex sooner rather than later.
My prayers were answered, and within minutes I'd paid the man his fare and escaped the prison-like inside of the vehicle. I probably looked stupid as I crossed the street, got honked at by angry drivers, and stopped outside Axel's building, all dressed up in my forest green costume. I vaguely recalled the last time I encountered something unexpected in this place. It seemed like drama and danger was attracted to Axel, almost drawn to him.
Or was that me?
I sped through the doors and slammed my fist against the 23rd-floor elevator button. This trip was always a long one, but tonight it moved at the speed of a sleepy snail. Every time I hit a new floor, the corresponding button lit up, bringing me slowly but surely in the direction of Axel.
10th floor now. Why didn't it move faster? If Axel was in danger, every second counted. Every second I spent in this elevator was a second lost to helping Axel. I was convinced of his fate now, and sweat streamed down my back. 16th floor. Come on. 19th floor. Hurry up. 21st floor. Shit. 23rd—
I slid through the doors as soon as they separated, throwing myself into the corridor and its shiny surfaces. Golden details glittered in the light, but my mind was on Axel, and on getting to his apartment as quickly as possible. My feet carried me over the carpets, around the corner, and finally in front of his door.
It was locked today, yet no relief presented itself at that. My finger shook as it pressed against the doorbell, firm and sweaty, vibrating with anxiety. What if he doesn't answer? What if he's unable to? What if... What if?
Relief nearly choked me when the door did open, and it seemed like an eternity between the creak of the door and the reveal of the person behind it. I decided to speed up the process myself, grabbing hold of the door handle and pulling the thing towards me. I was halfway through the door when I came face to face with Axel.
I blinked. Axel blinked.
He was standing upright, wearing a cozy-looking hoodie, and was absolutely, undeniably unharmed.
