A sound beyond the line

7

HILLARY

I had managed to listen to the professor with every ounce of strength I possessed. Two full hours of Literature theory—I had survived Professor Woods's class without being called out again. It was time for lunch, but before I could organize my thoughts, my phone pinged.

Bestie 😘🫰🏼😘: I'm done with my class. I'm planning on getting lunch. Do you want to come ???

...

Don't bother. You're coming 'cause I don't think you brought lunch, and if you brought it, I guess you'll be sharing it with your lovely bestie.

Me: Why is your name saved with bestie.

Bestie😘🫰🏼😘: Because I'm your BESTIE, no argument. But do you have your lunch?

...

I'm just going to order and meet you in your hall. I'll be there soon.

I thought this guy only talked and demanded attention in real life; I guess he was just as relentless on his phone. He left me with absolutely no choice.

A minute later, the door opened, and Bro walked in with two paper bags, looking like a ridiculously handsome model for a paper bag company.

"Delivery for you, Brownie."

What was that smile on his face? I didn't trust it. He looked too satisfied.

What did you do? I scribbled instantly on my notepad.

"What do you mean? I just got you lunch, and that's all."

There was definitely something going on.

Are you fine? I questioned.

He nodded, but his eyes looked a little glassy. I decided to let it go—maybe he was just exhausted from being so aggressively extroverted.

He opened the bag. It was burgers and mini pizzas. Simple, but comforting. I reached for the burger he offered, and my fingers brushed his hand.

His hand was burning.

I immediately stood up and placed the back of my hand against his forehead. He was radiating heat. I snatched my notepad.

You’re Burning Up!

He looked genuinely confused, tilting his head.

Your fever is very high! You need to go to the hospital NOW! I was panicking. I had never been in a medical crisis. I started shoving my things into my backpack and frantically packed the food up.

"Calm down, it's not that bad," he said, rolling his eyes slightly.

Did he just say it's not that bad? He was radiating heat, yet acting completely nonchalant. How did he not feel uncomfortable? That’s probably why he seemed off when he came in.

Are you feeling funny? I asked, already picking up my phone to order a ride. I kept looking at him, worried he might pass out. He looked deep in thought, not in pain.

"No, I feel fine."

How can he feel fine? He is definitely not fine!

"I have CIPA."

I raised my eyebrows, utterly confused. The ride notification popped up—it was almost here.

"Congenital Insensitivity to Pain with Anhidrosis," he explained, his voice low. "I can't feel pain or temperature."

Woah.

"The ride's here, let's go." I grabbed my notepad and hurried out, with Chase following closely behind. I didn't want to look at his face, scared of what strange, detached expression might be there.

The ride to the hospital was quiet and intensely awkward. I knew I had to tell my mother. There would be tons of explaining, but I had to let her know. I texted her immediately, letting her know where I was. Of course, she immediately texted back that she was on her way to the hospital, despite my plea for her not to worry.

We got to the hospital, and I rushed into the Emergency Room, Chase trailing behind, looking like someone stole his favorite cookie. I rushed to a nurse, and when I finally got her attention, I pointed frantically at Chase.

He has CIPA and a very high fever! I wrote, placing my hand on Chase's forehead and then onto hers.

She immediately pushed him toward a bed, called on others, and started firing questions at him. I was panicking again. My brain refused to help me process the chaos.

"Baby, are you fine?" I turned around to see Mum rushing toward me, looking immaculate but worried.

I nodded and pointed at Chase. Her attention immediately shifted. She moved toward one of the nurses hooking him up to machines.

"How is he?" she asked the question I couldn't form.

"He'll be fine. He needs to be admitted to get his body temperature back to normal before he's allowed to leave," the nurse explained.

"He can leave as soon as he's back to normal," Chase grumbled, counting the ceiling tiles like his life depended on it. When he finally looked at me, he gave me a strained, polite smile that didn't reach his eyes.

I sat down by his side and gave him a look that probably told him to stop smiling.

"You don't behave like that to someone who's not feeling well, young lady," Mum gently scolded me, misinterpreting my glare.

"Hi there, I'm Hillary's mother. You can call me Natasha." She smiled warmly at Chase.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Nice to meet you, by the way. I'm shocked to find out about my daughter's first friend this way! But you're free to come to our house anytime, any day."

Eiii, Mum, no! We're not that close!

"Yes, ma'am." He did not sound like the Chase I knew, but he was allowed to be like that for now. He looked subdued, hooked up to different machines because of CIPA.

"You need to cheer up, dear. You'll be alright, love. I'll be right outside if you two need anything."

Go home, Mum!

She left, and I sat down, bringing out my notepad.

Are you feeling better?

He nodded. This chatty a*s just nodded. I knew I had always wanted him to be quiet, but it didn't feel nice to see him quiet.

Have you always had CIPA?

He nodded again.

STOP NODDING AND OPEN YOUR MOUTH. I threw him a dirty look.

“I was born with it, and I’ve lived with it and managed it all my life,” he mumbled.

Well, my life has been great for as long as I can remember, but I lost my memory. And, oh, I can't talk. The doctors said I'm traumatized, and my brain shut out my memories, so I can't remember anything up to the fact that I woke up on a hospital bed.

“Wow...”

I shrugged. Sleep. And when you wake up, I want Crazy Chase back.

I left the hospital room to let him rest.

He was finally back to normal and had been talking to Mum for approximately thirty minutes. The sound of his normal, slightly aggressive chatter was a massive relief.

"Did you call your parents?" I wrote, holding up my pad.

"They're in Greece. I don't want to disturb them," he said.

Okay, but I don't think any parent would like to not be informed that their child is in the hospital. But the flat look on his face told me to drop it. I’d try to sneak it in later.

"Baby boy, why not inform them first?" Mum chimed in, and he had no choice.

Ringg.... No response.

He tried again. Finally, there was a response.

"BABYYYYYYYYYY..." The voice on the other end was piercingly loud.

"Hi, Linda," Chase said, clearly mortified.

Linda? As in, his mom?

"Hey! Are you in trouble? Is that why you're calling?"

Chase looked like the ground should just swallow him. Mum rubbed his arm, encouraging him to tell her the reason he called.

"Uhmm, I'm in the hospital. I had a fever, but I had to get admitted to..."

Silence.

"We'll be back in a month. We still have to go to Cyprus and some other places. We already bought tickets, and we can't cancel. You're already doing a good job taking care of yourself. We'll be back in no time... Babe... get over here. I have to go, byeee." Beep. And she hung up.

"See, I told you, no need to call," he said, as if what just happened was a perfectly normal thing.

I didn't even know what to say. What kind of mother was that? I wanted to ask about his father, but I didn't want to complicate matters further.

"Well, if anything—I mean, anything—happens, even if you fall and scratch yourself or you break a nail, call me. And I mean it, boy, you call me right away." I loved my mother. She was overbearing, but intensely loyal.

"You're free to go home today," the nurse announced, walking in with discharge papers. "Soooo, since nobody is home, do you want to come home with us?" Mum suggested brightly.

Ehn? Come home where, Mum? You met him yesterday! He's a stranger!

Chase looked at me, and I just shrugged helplessly. What was I supposed to do after she'd already offered?

"Can I do that, Mrs. Woods?"

Just say yes, drop the polite act.

"You can call me Mum if you want to. You just got yourself a mum, and to be honest, I've always wanted a son. And guess who I found? I can't wait for you to meet Brent."

Why does she keep doing that?

"Yes, Mum."

What?! I was lost. This was looking like I got kicked out of the group chat of my own life.

"Start preparing to leave."

Chase smiled, a small, genuine smile this time, not the forced one from before. He looked at my notepad, then back at Mum, and they continued their dramatic new mother-son bonding session.

Yeghhh. But secretly, I was relieved. Chase was safe, and I finally had a friend who truly needed me.