Because You're Different ✔

24. Insurance card

June

I could still see the flashing lights of the ambulance when I closed my eyes. There had only been space for one other passenger, so mom went with, of course. I had watched until they disappeared out of sight. Then I called Nathan, as that seemed the only logical thing to do. His voice had brought on the tears — before, I'd been fine.

After, I'd walked back outside, taking place on the front steps. People asked me if I was okay, if I wanted to come with them. I didn't need to. I had him.

The car pulled up right in front of me, braking a little more abruptly than usual. He got out, hurriedly, and I threw myself in his arms. "It's okay, June," he said, holding me close, and I hated that I smelled Charlotte's perfume on him. "It's gonna be okay. We're gonna go to the hospital, alright?"

I could only nod, water streaming down my cheeks. He cupped my face, gently wiping them dry with his thumbs. Ocean blue eyes gazed into mine, and for a second, my panic subsided. "Is there anything you could think of that your mom and dad might need?" Thinking was difficult, at the moment. When I did it, I heard my dad grumbling about pain and my mom crying out as he collapsed — I didn't want to see it again. "Wallets, insurance cards, cell phones, anything?"

"I — yeah, probably smart. I don't think we have insurance, though."

"You do," he said, and even through my fear, I managed to be surprised.

While I packed dad some clean clothes, hands shaking, Nathan was downstairs, going through their stuff, trying to find ID's and cards and all that. Time seemed to regularly skip a few minutes, since suddenly, we were driving down the highway again, him throwing me concerned glances every now and then. He asked me which hospital they had taken him, but I wasn't sure anymore. I wasn't sure of anything anymore at the moment.

"You wanna tell me what happened?" He'd grabbed my hand for a moment, squeezing it before moving back to the wheel. It reminded me of the night we fled the high school together. It seemed years ago.

I didn't know if I wanted to. My mouth did, because it started talking without me realizing: "I'd cooked for them. They were both so tired... Dad complained of heartburn. I was concerned, that was how uncle Miguel's heart attack started. He told me not to worry." Worrying is my job, mija. "And then I was doing the dishes, and he — he collapsed."

Nathan nodded. "How long before the ambulance came?"

"I don't know. Ten minutes, maybe?"

"Good," he said, "good. Ten minutes, that's not so bad."

I hoped he was right. I caught a whiff of Charlotte again, and all at once, I wished she didn't exist. "I hope I didn't ruin your night. You were just the first person that came to mind."

He looked sideways, frowning like that was the most insensible thing I'd ever said. "Are you kidding me? You can always call me, June. Always. Especially if something like this happens."

Always. My heart fluttered at the word. Would my dad's heart ever be able to do that again? Was he still alive? When I thought of mom, of the way she would whisper in dad's ear, and the way he watched her like she was the only woman on earth, even if she was dressed in her work uniform, I couldn't help but think that, if dad didn't make it, I'd lose two parents. Or at least, what remained of them after almost a year of being away from family.

Family.

"I should — I should call my family, shouldn't I?" I said. "Tell them what's happening."

"Yeah, that's a good idea. Here, take my phone."

Mindlessly, I selected Valentina's number, one of the few names in his contacts I actually recognized. It took her long to pick up. No wonder, it must've been the middle of the night in New York.