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His eyes flickered, and he let go of my hair. “You better be all recovered by Monday night, because I’m going to put you through hell.”
I took a big noisy slurp of apple juice to hide the dizzying throb through my body that had nothing to do with being weak.
There was a brisk knock on the door. The nurse strode in and beamed at us.What a sweet couple.
“You’re drinking! Good girl. Thanks for keeping her on track,” she added to Patrick.
“I try,” Patrick said modestly.
“Just a little more to go.” She nodded toward the juice. I poured the rest in my cup and resigned myself to finishing it. “Are you taking any medications? Or are there any substances in your system right now? I need to ask,” she added, with an apologetic look.
One simple question, and I suddenly felt exposed. Vulnerable under the fluorescent lights, with my hair undone and my legs in Patrick’s lap.
It would be easy to lie. I was so sick of lying.
“Just Adderall,” I muttered. “I took some before the game.”
“Do you have a prescription?”
Silence hung in the room.
“No.”
“How much did you take?”
“A couple.”
She blinked. “Two?”
“Two, three, I don't know. I just grabbed them.” I couldn't look at Patrick.
“That's dangerous.” Her face was compassionate, but her voice was sharp. “It’s a mild overdose, but that explains the headache and nausea along with your dehydration.” She turned to Patrick, as if it was any of his business. “Did you know about this?”
“No.” His voice was chilly. “But I wondered.”
*****
At the front desk, I paid with a check. I thanked the nurse and promised her I’d rest. Jess was gone, and so was the guy who’d tried to show us the video. The tension between me and Patrick was silent. Sliceable. You could serve a wedge on a plate and call it dessert.
He opened the door and took my arm. Outside, a light drizzle was falling. Droplets beaded my hair and collected on his pale forehead. Crumpling the pamphlet on addiction the nurse had given me, I threw it in the trash.
When Patrick unlocked the passenger door, I broke the silence. “It's not a big deal about the pills. I have it under control. I just made a mistake today, that's all.”
“Do you have ADD?”
“Everyone has ADD!” I buckled my seatbelt. “We live in an ADD culture.”
“I don’t.” He reached in back for his leather jacket and started the car.
I leaned my hot face against the cool glass of the window. Rain-soaked pavement streaked past. “What do you mean, you ‘wondered?’”
He turned back onto Campus Drive. In the fogged distance, a line of headlights marked the path from the stadium. The game was over.
“I’ve seen how you are sometimes when you come to me. You can’t calm down until I put my hands on you. The more wound up you are, the harder you need it.”
I turned away to clear my throat. “Yeah, you’re better than a sleeping pill. I can always count on a snooze when I come to your room.”
A grin sneaked across his face. It disappeared too soon.
