Olivia pinches her brows together. “Then why would I pass out?”
The doctor purses her lips in thought. “It could be because of the dehydration. Have you been getting enough sleep lately? How are your stress levels?”
Olivia shrugs. “I guess I haven’t been getting much sleep with finals coming up and the stuffy nose—not being able to breathe at night. Then, finals and medical school application deadlines probably have my stress levels up, more so than normal,” she admits sheepishly.
The doctor gives her a sympathetic and knowing smile. “Ah, I remember those days. Well, we’re just going to give you some fluids to help you feel better. Then I want you to go home and get some rest. The combination of the cold, dehydration, stress, and exhaustion are probably what did you in. Before you leave, I’m going to write you an excuse slip for your classes tomorrow. Stay home and get some rest,” she instructs.
I knew Olivia was stressed about finals, about keeping her 4.0 GPA for medical school—even though she could probably fail all of her finals and still manage to get an A in all of her classes—but I didn’t know it was this bad.
Over the weekend, she had already started cracking down on her books instead of soaking up her last few days of break. I didn’t think much of it. I just thought it was Olivia being Olivia, getting a few hours of studying in a day, but now I wonder just how hard she’s been pushing herself. Not to mention she’s been working ruthlessly on her med school applications too.
With a friendly smile, the doctor exits the room, and Cora gets working on Olivia’s IV. As soon as Olivia gets the bag of fluids, the door opens and both of her parents rush in, looking panicked.
“Olivia,” they say in unison, hurrying to her bedside.
“Are you okay?” her mother says worriedly, checking her over.
“I’m fine,” Olivia says.
Cora steps in. “Why don’t we go grab some coffee and let her rest for a minute. I’ll fill you guys in.”
Her parents nod, and at the same time I manage to catch their eyes.
“Bronx.” Her dad smiles, eyes lighting up with recognition. He comes over to give me a pat on the shoulder. “Thanks for bring her in.”
“Yes,” her mother says, sounding relieved. “Thank you.” The sincerity in her voice and the look in her eyes makes me feel like I’m some big hero or something.
“It was no problem,” I assure them. “I just wanted to make sure she’s okay.”
Her dad gives me a nod of approval. “Thank you. Would you mind staying with her for a few more minutes while we run to grab some coffee? I can bring you back something,” he offers.
I shake my head, stuffing my hands in the pockets of my jeans. “Nah, I’m good. Thank you, though. I’ll stay with her for as long as you need.”
He gives me an appreciative smile before he, his wife, and Cora leave the room and walk down the hall to the cafeteria.
I glance at Olivia, who is struggling to keep her eyes open. She looks so tired and fragile hooked up to all the monitors and with an IV in her arm. Walking over to her, I take a seat on the edge of the bed.
“You don’t have to stay,” she tells me. “I know you have football practice later.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I assure her softly, placing my hand on top of hers, mindful of the pulse reader on her finger. “Get some rest, Finch.”
As if she finally has permission to sleep, her eyes flutter closed, her long lashes resting on the tops of her cheeks. I watch as her breathing evens out and her body relaxes and becomes heavy with sleep.
A little while later her parents and Cora come back to the room. We all wait for her IV to finish and for the doctor to write her an excuse slip before she’s discharged. I insist on following her parents home and carry her up the stairs to her bedroom, tucking her in for the rest of the night.
After football practice I take a quick shower and rush out of the locker room, not wanting to linger and bullshit around with the guys like usual. Instead, I hop in Chase’s truck and drive to Olivia’s house.
When I arrive and throw the truck in Park across the street, its past ten thirty. All the lights in the house are off, so I assume her parents are asleep.
Quietly, I get out of the truck and close the door, then walk around to the back of the house. I look up at her bedroom window and find a light on in her room.
With an annoyed huff, I look at the tree next to her house skeptically, not believing what I’m about to do.
“I thought this shit only happened in movies,” I mutter to myself, struggling to climb the tree.
Finally, I manage to make it to the roof and walk over to her window. I peek inside the room, noticing the lamp bathing the room with a dim, warm glow. I find Olivia at her desk instead of in her bed, her computer screen on, illuminating her face as she stares at it intently.
Sharp and quick, I rap my knuckle on her window. She jumps at the sound, spinning around in her desk chair, her wide eyes locking with mine. Placing a hand on her chest, as if willing her heart to slow down, she scrambles up from her chair and comes over to the window, opening it.
