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“Where does it hurt, Noah?” I question while I smooth away the damp hair on his brow as his eyes flutter closed.
This isreallybad.
Tears well in my eyes as the enormity of the situation hits me. Silently, I beg him to be okay.
I’m not ready to lose you, Noah Parker.
“Noah, I’m going to get help. Please.” My voice breaks on the word and I clear my throat, straightening my spine. “It’s going to be okay.”
Standing, I frantically pull my phone from my pocket, turning away to protect him from my panic. My hands shake as I dial 911.
It feels like an eternity before the call connects. The ball of tension in the pit of my stomach, twisting, turning and building with each agonizing second.
“911. What is your emergency?”
“Please, my… friend is hurt. I don’t know what’s wrong. You have to help him.”
The operator remains calm as fat, ugly, silent tears stream down my cheeks.
“What is your name?”
“Savannah,” I hiccup, trying to calm myself.
“Okay, Savannah, is the patient breathing?”
My stomach drops and I spin on my heel, my eyes roaming over the pained look on Noah’s face. Palpable relief coats my words as I find his glassy eyes. “Yes, yes, he is.”
Noah’s voice is weak as he says, “I don’t need an ambulance, Van. I’ll be fine waiting for Jack to get back.”
I ignore him because he needs help and I’ll be damned if we’re waiting for Jack to come back. Who knows how long that will take.
“What is the address of the emergency?”
I reel off our address, answering more questions before the operator informs me the ambulance isn’t far out. “Can you go and open the door for them, Savannah?”
My eyes roam over Noah’s face as I think over the operator’s question. I know I need to go and open the door, but I can’t leave him.But he needs their help.
Noah has always been a strong, lively person, but right now he looks so helpless and it’s breaking my heart. Tears roll down my cheeks unchecked.
His voice is barely above a whisper, but Noah pulls me back into the moment, when he asks, “Angel, why are you crying?”
“Please don’t die,” I wail.
He raises his hand to my face, wiping at the wetness as a weak smile forms on his. “Always so dramatic, Van. I’m not going to die.”
I don’t believe him.
Sirens sound in the distance. And with one last look at Noah, I stand, racing to the front door, swinging it open just as an ambulance pulls onto the street. Jack’s car follows behind and when they pull up outside the house, he jumps from his car, sprinting across the front lawn.
I point the EMTs to Noah, unable to be in there with him while they poke and prod at him.
“Sav, what happened?” Jack asks, his chest rising and falling with his labored breaths.
My voice cracks as I say, “It’s…”I can’t even say his name.If I don’t, it might not be true. “It’s Noah, Jack,” I sob.
His face blanches before he pulls me into a hug. “Shit, Sav.”
Jack’s hold tightens momentarily before he steps back and darts into the house. With a hoarse voice, I call out to Jack that Noah’s in the living room.
