“Sasha,” I say breathlessly as I reach her side.
She looks up at me, and the horror on her face is a reflection of my appearance.
“Oh my God, Mason,” she murmurs. “What happened?”
“Sasha, please,” I whisper. I fall to my knees in front of her, holding both her hands in mine. “I think… I think I might be losing it…”
“It’s the stress,” Sasha acknowledges. “I feel the same way sometimes.”
“No, it’s more than that…” I lower my head. Tears rise in my eyes. I haven’t cried since I was six years old when my cat died. And even then, I tried to hide it because I didn’t want my father to think I was weak. “There’s something wrong with me. I know it.”
“Every medical student turns into a hypochondriac,” Sasha says in a soothing voice. “You’ve just gotta take it easy. Anyway, people who are going crazy usually have no idea they’re going crazy. So I think you’re safe.”
“Is that a rule?”
Sasha smiles and touches my cheek. “You just need to get some sleep, Mason.”
I close my eyes and shake my head to clear it. Maybe she’s right. Anyone would be hearing things if they had so little sleep. I look up at her dark-brown hair and remember how I’d been surprised, the first time I touched it, by how soft it was. I haven’t touched Sasha’s hair in a long time. I wonder how I let myself screw things up with her. If only I hadn’t brought her home with me that night… maybe we’d be something more than friends right now.
“Sasha, do you… do you want to go to the locker rooms with me?” I ask half-heartedly.
She shakes her head. “Youknowwe have our final exam coming up. I need to head home and get some rest.”
“What if I promise to shower first?” I say, flashing my most charming smile.
Sasha laughs and kisses the top of my head. “Go get some sleep, Mason.”
And just like that, I feel better. I feel like maybe I could go home and get some sleep that night. I leave Sasha and walk back out to my car, my eyelids growing heavier by the second. For thefirst time in days, my heart is beating at a normal pace. Sasha is right. I’m just putting too much stress on myself.
Or maybe…
I unlock the door to my car, trying to push away the thoughts intruding on my brain. I have to get home. I have to get to sleep. I have to study.
Or maybeshe’s in on it too.
73
I didn’t even realizeI had dozed off until the phone starts ringing. I open my eyes and take in the darkness of the room. Was it dark when I first went to sleep? I can’t even remember anymore.
I only sleep in snatches of a couple of hours. If I could get a full eight hours of sleep, I’d feel like myself again. I even begged Abe for some pills to help me out, but he pretended he didn’t know what I was talking about, like he wasn’t a drug dealer. Everyone is lying to me.
I glance over at the computer, trying to remember what it is I had been reading when I drifted off. The phone is still ringing, and the sound is like nails on a chalkboard. I gingerly take the phone off the hook and hold it close to my ear, listening.
“Mason?”
It’s my mother’s voice. I try to answer, but my throat feels really dry, and no sound comes out of my mouth.
“Mason?”
“Hello,” I finally manage.
“Oh, thank God,” she says. “Are you all right? I haven’t heard from you in weeks!”
“Yes,” I say.
“How is school? How are your classes?”
“Fine.”
