Xander: I’m sure she’ll be fine. She had a gnarly fever yesterday before I took her in, but she was resting when I left her this morning.
Me: Are you at your house now?
“Why’re you staring down at your phone like that?” Shooter asks, my head snapping up.
“Xander’s aunt’s in the hospital with an infection. She had a hip replacement done a few weeks ago.”
“Shit. She okay?”
“I don’t know.”
My phone buzzes with his response.
Xander: Yeah, I am. I’m going to take a shower, make some food, and then head back up there.
Me: I’ll bring you some lunch before you head back up there. I’m at the diner with Shooter right now anyway.
Ginny comes by to check on us, and I put in an order for Xander before she walks away.
“What the hell are you doing?” Shooter asks, brow arched as he watches me like I’ve lost my mind.
“Bringing him lunch.” I shrug. “He’s probably stressed out and hasn’t eaten all day. And it’s his birthday.”
“Boyfriend, remember?”
“I can platonically bring him lunch,” I scoff.
“Riiight.”
Xander responds, the phone vibrating in my hand.
Xander: You don’t need to do that, Cope. I’m sure you have tons of other things to do.
Me: I don’t have to, but I want to. And I already ordered the food, so it’s done. I’ll be there soon.
The text bubbles appear and disappear a few times before a simple ‘thank you’ comes through. Shooter and I finish up eating before Ginny brings us the bill and my to-go order. The entire drive over to Xander’s aunt’s house, my stomach is in knots. This is the first time we’re seeing each other since the bonfire last week. We’ve texted a little bit here and there, but nothing face to face.
Truck parked in front of the house, I take a deep breath, grab the bag of food off the seat, and climb out. Xander answers almost as soon as I knock, neither of us saying anything for a few moments as we take each other in. His black hair is still a little wet from his shower, and he’s in a black ribbed tank top and a pair of red athletic shorts.
“Hey,” I finally murmur, my heart thumping hard.
“Hey.” Xander offers a small smile, stepping to the side. “You can come in if you want.”
We head into the kitchen, where I set the food on the counter. I pull a plate out from the cupboard and unbox the order onto it. Xander pulls a Gatorade out of the fridge, setting it beside the plate.
“You really didn’t need to do this.”
“I know, but I wanted to,” I reply, shoving the plate in front of him. “Besides, maybe I also kind of wanted to see you.”
Xander bites the inside of his cheek, and I take that as a sign I didn’t say too much, or fuck up too badly. He takes a seat on one of the bar stools, and I pull out the one next to him. “Well, thank you. I haven’t eaten all day.”
“I figured you hadn’t.”
He digs in, and in between bites, he tells me what happened yesterday that led to going to the hospital, and he explains what the doctor had said about her infection.
“Do you know how long she’ll have to be in the hospital?” I ask him, stealing a fry off his plate and popping it into my mouth.
He shakes his head, glancing over at me. “No, I don’t really know anything either. Like, all of this is practically a foreign language to me.
