Research On You

Chapter 16 : The Things She Started Noticing

The first thing I noticed was his hands.

They were always cold now. Even in the afternoon sun at Rel’s. He would wrap both hands around his tea like he was trying to borrow warmth from it.

"Are you okay?" I asked on a Monday.

"Yeah," he said. "Just tired. Hospital was late last night."

"Lolo?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said. "Lolo."

He didn’t look at me when he said it.

The second thing I noticed was Sera.

She stopped sitting with us. She would come to Rel’s, buy coffee, and sit at the bar with Rel. But her eyes were always on our table. On Theo. On me.

Like she was waiting for something to happen.

"Are you two fighting?" I asked her one day.

"What?" she said. "No. Why?"

"You’ve been weird," I said.

"I’m just tired," she said. "Med school."

But Sera wasn’t tired. Sera was scared.

The third thing I noticed was the bruises.

They started showing up on his arms. Small, purple ones. On his wrists. On the inside of his elbow.

He always had long sleeves now. Even when it was hot.

"What happened to your arm?" I asked on Wednesday, reaching for it.

He pulled back. "Nothing. Bumped into the door at the hospital."

"Which door?" I asked.

"The... the IV stand," he said. "Clumsy."

I nodded.

Across the room Sera dropped her spoon.

By Friday he was gone again.

"Hospital," his text said at 7 AM. "Lolo."

I replied. okay. take care

Seen.

That was it.

I went to Rel’s anyway. Sat in our corner. Ordered two teas. Drank both of them.

Sera came in at 10. She saw me and stopped walking.

"You’re here," she said.

"Yeah," I said. "Where else would I be?"

She sat down. "You should go home."

"I’m waiting," I said.

"For what?" she asked.

"For him," I said.

She didn’t say anything. She just stirred her coffee until it went cold.

"Did something happen?" I asked.

"No," she said. "Nothing."

"Liar," I said.

She looked up. "What?"

"You’re lying," I said. "About something. And so is he."

Sera’s face went pale. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Yes, you do," I said. "Ever since that day in your room. Ever since the folder."

"What folder?" she asked. Too fast.

"The one on your bed," I said. "The manila one."

Sera stood up. "I have to go."

"Sera—"

"I said I have to go," she said, and she left.

I sat there for an hour.

That night Theo called at 1 AM.

"Hey," he said. His voice was rough.

"Hey," I said. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he said. "Just... can’t sleep."

"Is Lolo okay?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said. "He’s okay."

"Can I come tomorrow?" I asked. "To the hospital?"

Silence.

"Theo?"

"No," he said. "You can’t."

"Why not?"

"Because he doesn’t want visitors," he said. "He’s really sick, Ana. He’s embarrassed."

"Oh," I said. "Okay."

"Don’t be mad," he said.

"I’m not mad," I said. "I’m worried."

"I know," he said. "Me too."

We didn’t talk much after that.

The next week I started paying attention to everything.

How he flinched when someone touched his arm.

How he never ate anything at Rel’s anymore. Just tea.

How he would disappear to the bathroom and come back pale.

How Sera would follow him with her eyes.

On Tuesday I went to his dorm. He wasn’t there.

His roommate said he left early. "Hospital," he said. "Again."

I sat on Theo’s bed. The folder was still under it.

I pulled it out.

THEODORE ALISTAIR was written on it. In black pen.

My hands were shaking.

I opened it.

It was empty.

Just old notes. From last sem.

I put it back.

But why was it empty? Why was his name on it if it was empty?

That night I couldn’t sleep.

Wednesday Sera and I ended up in the library together. Alone.

"You’re following me," she said.

"No, I’m not," I said. "I just study here."

"Bullshit," she said. "You’re watching him. Watching me."

"Because something’s wrong," I said. "And you know what it is."

Sera put down her book. "Ana, stop."

"Stop what?"

"Stop digging," she said. "You’re going to get hurt."

"Hurt by what?" I asked. "The truth?"

"You don’t understand," she said.

"Then explain it to me," I said.

"I can’t," she said. "He asked me not to."

"Who?"

She didn’t answer.

"Sera," I said. "Is Theo okay?"

She looked at me. Her eyes were full. "I don’t know."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I don’t know," she said. "Okay? I don’t know."

She packed her things and left.

I sat there and cried in the library.

Thursday he came back to class.

He looked worse. His cheeks were hollow. There was a bandage on the inside of his elbow.

"What happened?" I asked.

"IV," he said. "For Lolo. I was helping the nurse and I got stuck."

"Oh," I said.

He smiled at me. "Don’t worry so much."

"I can’t help it," I said.

"I know," he said. "I’m sorry."

Friday he was gone again.

Hospital.

This time he didn’t even text.

I went to St Luke’s. I sat in the lobby for three hours. I asked at the information desk if Theodore Alistair was visiting a patient.

"I’m sorry, miss," the lady said. "I can’t give out that information."

"Is he here?" I asked.

"I can’t say," she said.

I left.

Saturday Sera showed up at my door at 11 PM.

"Can we talk?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said.

We sat on my floor.

"I’m sorry," she said.

"For what?"

"For lying," she said. "By omission."

"So you do know something," I said.

She nodded.

"Tell me," I said.

"I can’t," she said. "Not yet. He made me promise."

"Promise what?"

"That I wouldn’t tell you," she said. "Until he’s ready."

"When will he be ready?" I asked.

"I don’t know," she said. "He’s scared."

"Of what?"

"Of losing you," she said.

I laughed. "That’s stupid. I’m not going anywhere."

"I know," Sera said. "But he doesn’t."

We sat in silence.

"Is he dying?" I asked quietly.

Sera’s head snapped up. "No. I don’t— I don’t think so."

"Then what is it?"

"I can’t say," she said. "I’m sorry."

She left after that.

Sunday I went to his dorm.

He was there. On the floor. The folder open next to him.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," I said.

"How are you?" he asked.

"I’m tired," I said. "Of lying."

He looked at me. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I know you’re lying," I said. "About Lolo. About the hospital. About everything."

He went still. "I don’t know what you’re—"

"Don’t," I cut him off. "Don’t lie to me anymore."

He looked down. "I’m sorry."

"Sorry for what?" I asked.

"For not telling you," he said.

My heart stopped. "Telling me what?"

He didn’t answer.

"Theo," I said. "What is it?"

He picked up the folder. Closed it. "I can’t. Not yet."

"Why?" I asked. "Why can’t you tell me?"

"Because I’m scared," he said. "Because once I say it out loud it’s real."

"But it’s already real," I said. "Whatever it is. It’s already happening."

"I know," he said. "I’m sorry."

I sat next to him. "You don’t have to do this alone."

"I know," he said. "But I want to. For a little while longer."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I’m selfish," he said. "Because I like pretending we’re normal."

"We can still be normal," I said. "Even if—"

"Don’t," he said. "Don’t say it."

"Okay," I said.

We sat there.

The folder between us.

The truth between us.

And neither of us said it out loud.

Monday at Rel’s he ordered tea. Again.

"How’s Lolo?" Rel asked.

"Stable," Theo said. "Thanks for asking, Rel."

Rel looked at him. Then at me. Then back at him.

She didn’t say anything.

Tuesday Sera didn’t come to school.

Wednesday Theo had a fever.

He texted me. can’t go to class. sorry

I went to his dorm. He was asleep. Sweating.

I stayed with him. Gave him water. Changed the towel on his forehead.

When he woke up he looked at me. "What are you doing here?"

"Taking care of you," I said.

"You don’t have to," he said.

"I know," I said. "I want to."

He cried that night.

"I’m sorry," he said. "I’m so sorry."

"For what?" I asked.

"For all of this," he said. "For lying. For being sick. For—"

"Stop," I said. "Just stop."

He did.

Thursday he was better.

Friday he was gone again.

Hospital.

I didn’t ask where.

Sera still wasn’t talking.

And I was still pretending I didn’t know that I knew.

The bruises got worse.

The tea got colder.

The silences got longer.

And the folder stayed under his bed.

Unopened.

Unspoken.

But always there.

One night he texted me.

i love you

i’m sorry

please don’t hate me

I replied. i could never hate you

He didn’t reply after that.

I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling.

Something was very wrong.

And I was running out of time to figure out what.