He nods, taking another sip of his champagne, and then sighs. “I wish I could walk you back to campus, but I can’t leave these assholes here alone.”
There’s a soft knock before Rippley enters the room. “I’m on my way out if you need a ride?”
That sense of familiarity with him gives me some reassurance. “I’m at Cornell…”
“Yeah, it’s on the way.”
JJ gives me a quick hug and whispers, “You were the best surprise this party had.”
I don’t know how to take that. Was it meant to put me at ease for showing up uninvited to get my backpack, or does he think of me as more than just his friend? Like I’m starting to see him?
It’s quiet as I walk side by side with Rippley to his black Porsch. I sheepishly wipe away the dirty mark my shoe left earlier, which makes him laugh.
It effectively breaks the ice.
As I climb into his car, a crushing pain strikes my head beforeI’m looking around the inside of another vehicle with plush black interior. “You can trust me. You know that, right?”
Relief floods me at the sound of his voice.
I nod with a smile, but I can’t see him as I turn to look at the back seat.
I glance back at the open door. He squats down, “Don’t leave with him… stay. Stay here with me.”
The purr of the engine and slam of his door jolt me back to the present. He adjusts the heat since it’s gotten dark and there’s a chill in the air.
“Music?” He cocks his head to look at me. “Or not? I listen to everything.”
I nod, while he turns the radio on.Missing Youby John Waite comes on. The song wrings a deep sadness out of me. Silenttears fall as I turn away from Rippley to look out the passenger window.
Seeing the campus up ahead, I mutter under my breath, “Five minutes tops, then I can sleep this away.”
Rippley turns the radio down. “Sorry, did you say something?”
That’s all it takes. I open my mouth, and my groan of agony is followed by, “Coming to New York was my last chance. What was it all for? Getting poked, prodded…. why bother?”
I don’t do a thing to stop my meltdown.
Startled, Rippley pulls over in the first available parking spot. He turns to me. “Oh boy, context is so important.”
Through tears, I give him the rundown of my life over the past year. He holds my hand, nodding occasionally, once or twice starting to ask something before changing his mind. The more I dump my problems on him, the tighter his grip on my hand becomes.
I may have misjudged him.
He’s not giving me any snobby vibes. In fact his soft brown eyes glisten with tears as I wipe my face with the sleeve of my sweater.
“Dr. Fraine is at Rockefeller Amherst because he’s exceptional at what he does, but it doesn’t mean he can’t be wrong.” He tells me he interns for Dr. Fraine as a pre-med student, detailing how conscientious the doctor is and how he won’t give up searching for answers to help me.
Deep down, I feel foolish for telling a perfect stranger about my problems. JJ would have been a better option, but it came more easily when I had no expectation of seeing the person again.
Now I know we could run into each other at Dr. Fraine’s office.
“Do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions?”
Why stop oversharing now?
I shrug and sniff. “Sure.”
“You said you have hallucinations? Do they make sense to you?”
