Until We Meet Again

34

Austin's POV

"Wake up!" I yell at Alex, throwing my pillow at his face. It was eight and we both had class in an hour, the good thing though was it wasn't together so I didn't have to be uncomfortable the whole class period. I didn't mean to make it awkward between us when I told him I would wait but it did and now I have no idea what to do to make everything like it was before.

"I swear if you don't wake up this minute, I will come over there and drag you out of bed."

He still shows no sign of life and I let out a huge breath, getting really annoyed now. I slide out of bed and trudge my way over to his. He's facing the wall so I couldn't see his face.

I shake his shoulder roughly. My mother told me the only way to wake someone up who doesn't want to wake up is to be rough with them.

"Wake up or you're going to be late to class," I let out a little louder than I intended to.

He moans under the covers, "I don't feel so good, I'm just going to stay in bed today."

"You can't miss the first day of class, Alex."

"Who made you the boss of me?" His words come out rude.

"No one, someone has to take care of you and it's clearly not going to be you."

He throws his shoulder back, shoving my hand off it. Huh well than, clearly he is in a bad mood.

"Fine," I give up, "but don't come running to me when you're kicked out of all your classes for not showing up."

No response comes from under the covers. I roll my eyes, grabbing my backpack and slinging it over my shoulder.

This is going to be a long day if he stays like this.

Later......

I slide the key into the door, unlocking it. I'm surprised to see Alex still underneath the covers, had he moved at all since I left half an hour ago?

I lay my bag in the desk chair and approach his bed. I almost trip over the trash can beside his bed. My eyes land on bloody tissues and whatever the heck else was in the can. I look up at him and back down at the blood. Something was off here and I don't think it was something good.

I shake his shoulder gently, no response comes from him.

"Alex," I whisper.

He still doesn't answer me and I start to get worried. I wait a couple of more minutes for him to respond but he still doesn't. Finally, I gently pulled on his shoulder, moving his body towards me. He's asleep but what I notice that his skin was very pale, almost a white color, more white than normal obviously.

I do what my mother did for me when I was sick and place the back of my hand on his forehead, he was definitely running a temp and a high one at that.

My instincts kick in and I immediately grab the keys to my car. Whatever was going on here isn't normal. I don't know if I should call 911 or take him to the hospital myself. If I call 911 then there will be unnecessary attention but if I take him myself I'll have to carry him down to the car and that'll make an even bigger scene possibly. I shake the thoughts of carrying him out of my head and decide to do it anyways. Carrying him was better than having a bunch of ambulance workers running up the stairs, that would definitely cause a scene.

I put one arm under his arms and the other under his knees and lift him off the bed. He was surprisingly light for his size. I ignore the looks that I get from other students and place him in the backseat. There was no way I was getting him in the passenger seat easily. He ends up sliding onto his side to where it looks like he's just taking a nap instead of possibly dying.

I close the door and slide into the driver seat. The whole way to the hospital I constantly look in the mirror back at him, when we get to the hospital I could swear that he looked even worse than when I found him in bed.

A bunch of nurses come rushing towards me, one with a stretcher, when I walk through the doors of the ER. I was surprised at how quickly they took him from my arms and laid him on the stretcher. I'm too busy watching them hurry him off behind another set of doors to hear one of the nurses start asking me a bunch of health questions.

"Do you know his name?" She asks me, holding a clipboard with a bunch of papers.

"Alex," I tell her.

She jots his name quickly. "Age?"

I shrug my shoulders, " I don't know, I'd say 19."

She nods her head, writing that down also.

The questions continue, one after another until I'm told to wait with the others. I spend hours waiting, surrounded by crying babies to puking eighty year olds. Finally, a doctor in a pair of scrubs approaches me. I stand up, wiping my hands on my shorts.

"So," I encourage him to tell me what's going on.

He looks at me and I can tell that it's not good.

"Are you his dad?" He asks me.

I shake my head, "no I'm his roommate."

"Do you have any way of contacting his parents?"

I shake my head, "no I don't, I don't get what this has to do with him. Tell me what's going on."

He purses his lips, his eyebrows furrowing and showing the lines on his forehead.

"Alex is appearing to show signs of acute lymphoblastic Leukaemia," my eyes go wide at his words and I take a step back, tripping over my seat and falling into it. "Now we have no idea how serious it is, we expect that we caught it very early."

Leukaemia. This can't be happening, not again. My brother he had leukemia and months later he died from what the doctors described as complications.

Alex can't die....