Page 27 of For the Rest of Forever
“I’m sorry,” he added, lowering his eyes to the computer screen again as he doubled down on his not-quite-truth. “I’m sorry. I’m fine though. I’ll be fine. And the truth is, thisishard. It’s harder than I thought it would be. But I need to stay here while they’re here. I said I would, and so I will.”
Her hand settled on his shoulder and then gave a gentle squeeze.
“Okay, Allen. But if you’re not feeling well, let me know, okay? I can call Greg to come get you, and—”
He didn’t hear whatever else she had to say, because at that moment, the pain in his head intensified, and he sucked in a sharpbreath as his vision blurred. He screwed his eyes shut and reached up to rub the bridge of his nose underneath his reading glasses.
“Yeah, okay,” he agreed, without really knowing all of what he was agreeing to. But it did the job, because Annabeth squeezed his shoulder again and then disappeared, maybe off to go get the rest of the library ready for their Saturday morning.
The pain slowly waned, fading from a sharp stabbing right behind his eyes to a dull throb across his whole forehead. And he waited with his eyes closed for a few more minutes, trying to steady himself using a grounding exercise Dr. Schultz had given him some years ago where he visualized drawing the sides of a square as he breathed in and out. It maybe sort of worked. Or at least, things didn’t get worse.
With another deep breath, he finally opened his eyes again and looked out around the library. The bleariness in his vision had mostly cleared, but the numbness in his hands had not. Nor had that strange detachment he felt. Across the library, he saw the two boys, working quietly in the same row, carefully scanning each of the books on the shelf. As though they knew they were being watched, both boys seemed to sneak a glance in his direction, and Allen had to force himself not to look away. But his stomach dropped, and a cold chill settled over him. Christopher was the first to lower his eyes, shifting his gaze back to the book he had in his hands. Owen kept his eyes on Allen for a few extra seconds, his expression tight, and then the teen bit his lip and gave Allen a weak, hesitant smile before turning back to his work.
Allen let out the breath he’d been holding. He took off his glasses and set them on the desk, then stood to go speak with the boys, since that was something he’d wanted to do but hadn’t been able to convince himself to earlier. He noticed Annabeth glance over at him from the other side of the library, where it looked like she was starting to reorganize some of the items on the display theyhad for local hiking trails and maps. She smiled kindly and looked like she was maybe about to say something.
But then the room around him began to spin. Or swirl. Or tilt. Dangerously. Sideways. And everything seemed to seep out of him—his strength, his breath, his warmth—out of him and downward, into the ground.
He tried to suck in air, but his knees gave out, and slowly, he began to fall. It seemed slow, at least, and he even had time, somehow, to register Annabeth’s eyes widening in fear from the other side of the room.
Then everything went dark.
***
“Mr. Westin! Mr. Westin,please wake up.”
“Move please, Owen. Christopher, call 9-1-1. Allen? Allen?”
He groaned, and pain shot through his back into his legs. His head hurt too. And his wrist.
More voices spoke to him, muffled though, and he felt Annabeth’s hand on his forehead. He forced his eyes open and blinked to clear his vision.
“Oh god, good, you’re not—”
“Ms. Jones, they want the address?”
Allen squinted and slowly brought one shaking hand up to his face, covering his eyes to block the bright light.
“Tell them it’s the library. They’ll know where to come. Allen, talk to me, please.” There was a desperation in Annabeth’s voice, and Allen felt her hand touch his forehead again.
“Wha—what happened?”
“You’re gonna be okay. You fainted or something. How do you feel?”
He’d fainted? Groaning again, Allen set his hands down on either side of him and tried to push himself up, but his wrist flared with pain, and he just had no strength. That, and a strong hand pushed against his shoulder.
“Don’t try to sit up, Mr. Westin.” Allen recognized Owen’s voice, though it sounded shaky. “You probably had a sudden drop in blood pressure, and you should lie still until the paramedics get here to check you out.”
If he’d had any energy, he might have wanted to ask Owen how he knew that much. But he didn’t. He felt more exhausted than he’d maybe ever felt in his life. And weak. Like he could barely lift his own head.
“They’re on their way, Ms. Jones. Is he gonna be okay?” Christopher’s voice sounded far away. And scared.
Allen closed his eyes and brought his hand up to cover his face again. God, he was still shaking. And it hurt. Everywhere hurt. And... and he’d never fainted before. Something like panic rose up inside him, and his chest tightened.Washe okay?
The quiet voices continued around him, and Annabeth’s hand didn’t leave his forehead. He heard bits and pieces of the conversation, and he tried to focus long enough to listen, but it was a massive jumble of words that he struggled to follow. And his head was pounding. And his chest hurt.
“Allen, we called the paramedics, and they’ll be here soon, okay? And—shit, I’ve gotta call Greg. Dammit. Ah, boys, pretend you didn’t hear me say that. Owen, can you go unlock the front door so they can get in? Here’s the keys. Christopher, my cell phone is on my desk in the back office. Can you grab that for me please? Hang in there, Allen. Can you hear me?”
“Yeah,” he answered, but his voice was raspy. He coughed to clear his throat, and his head hurt even more. “Sorry—sorry about this. Sorry, I’m...”
