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Me: I feel like death. Can you bring me food?
I was forced to ask for help around day three. I’d run out of basic things to keep me alive, so I had no choice.
Heath: Sure. Saw your status about being sick. Do you need anything else?
It wasn’t often I went to social media to gripe, but I did that week. I was glad I did, and I was triple glad when my former roommate, Heath, did pull through. He brought me meds on top of food the night I asked, and I was surprised to see that wasn’t where his help ended. The next day, a light tap hit my door, and when I opened it, I was surprised to find a bagel with avocado spread. I often got those on campus, which was why I was surprised.
There was no Heath in sight, but there hadn’t been the previous night either. I figured he hadn’t wanted to catch my germs and left.
I received the bagel quickly that day, and that was when I noticed the notebook underneath. It was filled with notes from the previous day’s classes. Heath and I were pretty much in all the same classes, but I was still surprised he helped me out by doing that. I certainly hadn’t asked him to.
Thanks for the grub and helping me out, I texted him, and his response was quick.
Heath: No problem. Feel better.
Heath and I had always been cool, and I did consider us friends. I mean, we’d been roommates, but I always did hold him at arm’s length. It was nothing he did. I held everyone at arm’s length.
Because I’m guarded as fuck.
It was hard with emotions for me. I felt things hard when I felt them, and after losing my dad, I just put up a brick wall. My school friends picked up on that after a while, and though we were all cordial and hung out, I didn’t really have strong connections with them. At least, not outside of the basic sense. I had friends, but I never let them in. Not really.
Days of coughing, fever, and me filling up trash bags with tissues befell me over the next few days. I still was having a hard time getting up due to my body aching and just, well, the overall feeling of death. It really fucking sucked, but the bright light was Heath’s supplies. For some reason, they didn’t stop after the bagel day, but I certainly didn’t turn them away. It was a nice contrast to a day filled with coughing fits and blowing my nose out, and I knew his reinforcements were there by the short tap at the door. Sometimes I didn’t answer right away. Actually, I never answered right away. Again, I felt like death, but he was long gone by the time I answered anyway. He always brought me food, typically groceries or something I could microwave, and a set of notes accompanied whatever he delivered. They’d be from the previous day’s classes, which I was grateful for.
Heath really was going out of his way. The notes were always handwritten, and because of that, I made sure not to sneeze all over them. I figured he’d want them back eventually.
I felt bad but I barely did look at the notes. I spent more time on the couch aching and wallowing in my feelings. Bru and my mom and stepdad checked on me from time to time upon seeing my social media status too, and I finally did start to feel better the following week.
I was fucking grateful, and when Heath knocked on the door that week, I finally had the energy to answer. Honestly, I kind of wanted to catch him in the act since he’d been so stealthy about his deliveries. I also wanted to thank him and intended to when I opened the door that day.
Except I didn’t catch him at my door.
“Sloane?” I angled out of my dorm, staring at the back of a tall girl in a thigh-length hoodie. It was so long because it was big on her. She always wore big hoodies. My mouth parted as I closed the door. “What are you doing?”
I was only seventy-five percent sure it was her. She didn’t stop right away, but when she pivoted, I saw clear as day I’d been right. She had her hair up, and the words Pembroke Football were stamped on her hoodie. She was obviously wearing her boyfriend’s stuff. She came back slowly. “Hey.”
“Hi,” I returned. She stopped in the middle of the hallway and glanced down.
I did too, seeing a brown bag. It had what I assumed were groceries inside. They always came in the same bag, but I saw no Heath in sight. I mean, I never did see him, but that was how he left things. A notebook was even beneath the bag like always. Notes…
I didn’t understand what was happening here, and Sloane only came so far. She might believe I was still sick, but how did she know? “Sloane—”
“You weren’t supposed to see me doing this,” she said, her knuckles tapping together. She appeared anxious, worried. “I should go.”
No, she shouldn’t actually, and she did stop when I called her. I wanted her to explain why she was here and sneaking stuff in front of my door. “You brought these things?”
She’d already confirmed, but again, this didn’t make sense.
She angled around slowly, but didn’t come back. She stayed there. “Yeah, and please don’t be mad. He…” She played with her hair. “He didn’t mean any harm.”
He didn’t. Mean. Any. Harm.
Alarm bells went off, and they were so freaking familiar. I raised a hand. “Are you saying Ares asked you to bring this stuff?”
I heard the words coming out of my mouth, but even still, they felt weird. They felt ridiculous. Especially because I asked her to ask him to back off. He shouldn’t even know I was sick. Let alone be helping me…
Reality started to hit around the time Sloane came closer. I started to walk away, not wanting to hear it.
“He asked me to bring things today, but he stopped by on the other days.”
