All the While (Senior Semester #3)

by Gina Azzi

  I take the stairs two at a time to the second floor, my eyes scanning each door for number sixteen. When I get to her dorm, I take a deep breath and tap my knuckles gently against the door.

  It opens immediately.

  Maura’s eyes are wild and unfocused when she sees me. She reaches out and clasps my hand, pulling me into her room and letting the door click softly behind me before locking it.

  “Hey.” I watch her guardedly. She’s wearing a pair of baggy black sweatpants and a red hoodie. Her hair is piled on top of her head. Her fingers seem to shake each time she mindlessly raises a hand to tuck a curl back into her bun. Behind her, her bedroom sheets and comforter are rolled into a ball, half-hidden in a black trash bag. What the hell is going on? “Everything okay?”

  She looks at me then and her eyes widen, almost as if she’s surprised to see me. Almost as if she forgot she called me. And then tears well up and spill over, tracking down her cheeks. A sob rips through her chest. And she crumbles.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Maura

  When I open the door and see Zack standing there, concern in his eyes, tension rolling off his shoulders, worry in the thin line of his mouth, I feel ashamed. And guilty. What is wrong with me gallivanting around town, sliding under any warm body I can find, drinking myself into oblivion, when I have people, friends, who care about me so deeply? I care about Zack; I’ve known that for a while now. And the fact that I have to share with him that I was pregnant—and I don’t know who the father is—makes me want to curl into a ball and die. And God, how I already miss the feeling of knowing I was keeping my little one safe and secure. My newly discovered life purpose is now just as lost as I am.

  I pull Zack inside my room and lock the door behind him, suddenly fearful that the girls on my floor will think I called him over for a booty call and have additional nasty things to say about me.

  He’s asking me something. I can’t even hear him over the pounding of my heart sounding in my ears, in my temples, in every fiber of my being. My cheeks feel wet and my lower back aches in excruciating tempo with my pulse. Zack’s face grows blurry, the edges of my vision turn black, and suddenly I feel weightless.

  Like I’m floating away from all the pain, all the guilt, all the sadness that weighs me down with each inhale.

  * * *

  The walls of the hospital are the color of crushed eggshells, an off-white with tinges of gray. The steady beep of my heartbeat fills the quiet room. I sense someone sitting next to me, off to my right, but my eyelids feel too heavy to lift. Instead, I inch my hand over to the right side of my bed. It must be Adrian. He would sit in quiet and give me peace while I tried to process my own thoughts, gather my memories, assemble the puzzle in my head. My mom would be crying for sure and my dad would already be asking me a string of open-ended questions. But Adrian, he would know just what I need. Twins are like that, always getting each other without having to say anything out loud.

  A warm hand encloses my fingers, squeezing them gently. I breathe out in relief. As long as Adrian is here, it can’t be that bad. Sleep finds me once more.

  * * *

  “Yeah, Coach, everything is fine.” A deep voice breaks through my scattered thoughts. Or am I dreaming? “No, I should be able to make practice tomorrow.”

  The team. Adrian’s team? But that’s not Adrian’s voice. Still, it’s familiar. And somehow comforting.

  “I’ll confirm later,” the voice says.

  I start to nod before I grasp that the voice isn’t speaking to me. Who is it? Frustration tugs at my memories as I try to match the voice to a face. After several failed attempts, I give up and force my eyelids open. My eyes feel dry and burn when they connect with the light in the room.

  Looking toward my right, toward the voice, the muscled back of a tall guy with blond hair held back by an Adidas headband greets me.

  “Zack?” I croak out. What is Adrian’s roommate doing here? Did Aid go to get something to eat?

  Zack turns sharply, relief flooding his features as he smiles at me.

  “Okay, thanks for understanding.” He ends the call, dropping his phone onto an empty chair and reaching my bedside in two strides. He perches lightly next to me and reaches out a tentative hand, stroking sticky curls away from my forehead.

  “Maura.” He breathes. “God, I’m so happy you’re awake. Are you okay? Does anything hurt?”

  I shake my head to clear my confusion. Zack interprets the gesture as me letting him know I feel fine and a sigh filled with obvious relief falls from his lips.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask him. “Did you come with Aid? What happened? Are my parents here?”

  Zack stills as if I struck him. He removes his hand from my hair slowly and rests his fingertips lightly on my forearm. “Maura,” his voice is steady even though his eyes are unsure, “what do you remember last?”

  I close my eyes, focusing to recall my memories of the past few days. And weeks. And months. Adrian’s passing. He’s gone, really gone, and not just to the cafeteria. That realization rips through me as freshly as the day of his accident, causing me to gasp. The fallout of his death: drinking, partying, lots of sex. Positive pregnancy test. Fear, purpose, a spark of happiness, pain. The cramping and aching. Bleeding. Calling Zack. Loss.

  “Oh God.” Realization slams into me. I’m here because I lost my baby. “I lost my baby.”

  Zack’s eyes level with me as I force myself to meet his gaze. Now he’s kneeling next to my bedside. Strange, I didn’t even feel him shift his weight. He clasps my fingers in both of his hands and looks right into my eyes. “You’re okay. Everything is going to be okay. I didn’t call your parents. No one knows you’re here. No one. You need to tell me what you want to do. How can I help you? I’m here, Maura. Whatever you need, I’m here.” He’s so sincere, so sweet, so caring, I can’t even stop the tears that well up in my eyes. “Shh, don’t cry.” He wraps an arm around my shoulders, awkwardly managing a hug. “I’ve got you.”

  I nod into his upper arm, my forehead resting against his shoulder. “Okay.”

  “Are you thirsty? Hungry?”

  I nod again. Now that he’s mentioned it, my throat feels dry and cracked.

  Zack pulls away, standing up and reaching for a cup and straw on my nightstand. “Here.” He positions the cup just below my chin, angling the straw to my lips. “Have some water.”

  I sip slowly, letting the cool water coat the inside of my mouth and throat. After several mouthfuls, Zack places the cup back on the nightstand and sits next to me once more. He picks up the remote control attached to my bed and pushes the call button for the nurse. “Let’s see about getting you some food. And talking to your doctor.” He tries to smile but it’s forced.

  And in that moment I know that I’ve hurt him too.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Zack

  Pacing the hallway outside of Maura’s hospital room, I try to relax but adrenaline is still running through my veins. That and caffeine. I’m on my third cup of coffee in eight hours. It’s 10:00 AM. I missed practice this morning, blatantly lying to Coach as I texted him about an elusive “family emergency.” Finally, Maura woke up and I can’t even describe the relief that short-circuited my nervous system when I realized she is going to be okay. For a moment, I thought I lost her and that guilt and pain was nearly as paralyzing as losing Adrian.

  She’s okay. She’s fine. Everything is alright.

  I take a sip of coffee. It’s cold. It’s been cold for the past hour, but I drink it anyway. The cafeteria is on the second floor, and I don’t want to leave this hallway in case Maura needs me. She’s speaking to her doctor now.

  Fuck. She lost so much blood. When she collapsed in my arms, I was so startled I almost missed the wetness seeping through her sweatpants. When I lifted her onto her bed and my hand came away red, I knew something was really wrong. I quickly thought about taking her to the hospital myself but the wet patch on her sweats kept expandin
g. I dialed 911.

  Thirty minutes later, Maura was in surgery, and I was sitting in a freaking daze in a cold hospital chair. Just like I did nearly nine months ago. Damn these Rodriguez twins. They’re going to be the death of me.

  The door to Maura’s room opens, and I practically collide with the doctor in my attempt to check on Maura.

  “Is she okay?” I ask the doctor, a thirty-something woman with stylish glasses and kind eyes. Her white coat reads Williams.

  Dr. Williams smiles gently. “She’s suffered a loss. Physically, she’s going to be just fine. I gave her some painkillers and a sedative to ease the pain. She’ll likely be tired and may not have much of an appetite for the next few days. Emotionally, she needs time to heal.” Her smile fades as her eyes fill with compassion. “I’m truly sorry for your loss. You can go in now.” She holds the door open for me.

  I open my mouth to tell her that I’m not—wasn’t—the father, but the sight of Maura stops me. She’s lying in the hospital bed, her hair piled on top of her head. Her eyes are wide, too large in her face. Her skin is pale. And she looks like someone just cut her heart into a million tiny pieces. “Thank you, Dr. Williams,” I say instead, stepping past her and taking the seat next to Maura’s bedside.

  The door closes softly behind Dr. Williams. I reach forward and clasp Maura’s hand lying lifeless at her side in my own. “Maura?”

  She looks at me, but I’m not sure if she really sees me.

  “I’m here. And you’re okay. Everything is going to be okay,” I tell her, hating the uncertainty that fills me even as I utter the only words of comfort I can think of.

  She closes her eyes then. And I think we’re both grateful when sleep claims her.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Maura

  I feel so empty, so barren, so fragile I’m almost scared I will collapse in on myself. Some moments, I wish I could. Every fiber in my being is leaden down with extra weight, a heaviness that permeates my limbs, making even my skin ache. Exhaustion takes on a new meaning as even the thought of getting out of bed to pee seems like too great an effort. I just want to sleep, to sink into a black hole of oblivion, and not wake up until I feel whole again.

  “Do you have keys?” Zack’s voice breaks through my hazy thoughts as we stop in front of my dorm room.

  The hospital discharged me earlier this morning, all intact, minus one fallopian tube. Dr. Williams assured me that I will still be able to conceive children in the future. Although it will be a hell of a lot harder now, it’s not impossible. But really, who the hell would want to have a baby with me? So I’m not holding out much hope on that. Besides, my little wonder, my little love is gone. And nothing, no one, could ever replace my baby. Brokenness is the state of my heart. Looks like I’m getting an A in Photography.

  “Never mind, I got them.” Zack pulls my keys out of the overnight bag he packed for me three two days ago. My keychain, an oar, dangles and taps against the door as Zack unlocks it and pushes it open for me to enter.

  I walk past him, squinting as the bright sunlight streaming in through the windows assaults my eyes. Ugh. I groan out loud, flopping facedown onto my bare mattress and burying my face into my pillow. I need to make my bed with clean sheets. I disregard the idea as it requires too much effort and pull my duvet sans cover up over my shoulders instead. Sleep begins to creep behind my eyelids, numbing my senses, beckoning me into the darkness.

  “Do you need anything?” Zack’s weight settles next to me as he sits down on the edge of my bed. He places his hand on the center of my back and for a moment it feels nice to receive comfort, warmth, a connection with someone else.

  “No,” I say into my pillow. It comes out muffled and dejected. God, how I wish people would stop asking me that. Even the cashier at the hospital cafeteria asked me as Zack paid for my coffee this morning. Of course I’m not okay. My entire purpose for living, the one aspect of my life that gave me a sense of hope for the past few weeks has just ended. And now, I feel devastated.

  Oh my God. Maybe I’m depressed.

  Self-help, here I come.

  “Maura?” Zack’s voice cuts through my thoughts again, his hand rubbing my back gently. “It’s going to be okay.”

  “Is it?” Can’t hide the snarky cynicism there.

  Zack sighs. “I can’t even pretend to imagine how you feel right now, Maura. Or understand what you’re going through. But yes, you are going to be okay. It may not seem that way now but as time passes, you will heal. Maybe not next week or next month but eventually.” He leans closer to my ear, his hand resting in my hair. “You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met, Maura Rodriguez. And this too will pass.” He places a light kiss to the back of my head.

  I don’t know. I don’t say anything. I just try and hold in the tears that threaten to flow.

  “Why don’t you go take a hot shower and let me put some sheets on your bed? You’ll be a lot more comfortable that way.”

  I think this over but reject his proposal. I don’t want to move. “It’s okay,” I tell him.

  He sighs. “If you need anything at all, call me. Otherwise, I’ll be back later to check on you. Get some rest, okay?”

  He pauses for several seconds, and then I hear the click of the door.

  Only then do I allow the tears to come.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Zack

  “Yo, man, what’s the deal with you and Adrian’s sister?” Hunt asks me the next day around half the slice of pizza jammed down his throat. He’s sitting at the kitchen table, his left foot propped up on a chair with a bag of ice resting on his knee, rummaging through the box of last night’s cold pizza still resting on the table.

  “You know you could heat that up, right?”

  Hunt grins. “Tastes fine cold. Day-old pizza is the shit.”

  I walk over to the coffee maker and pour a mug, grateful that there’s still coffee left and miraculously, it’s still warm. Popping it into the microwave for a minute, I rest my back against the counter and cross my arms over my chest. “What happened to your knee?”

  Hunt shrugs. “It’s acting up again. Swelling a bit. I’ve got an appointment with my doctor tomorrow, but I just want to make it through tomorrow morning’s practice.”

  I nod. “Make sure you stay on that. Don’t let it get out of hand.”

  Hunt rolls his eyes. “Okay, Mom. So Maura?”

  I sigh. “Nothing, Hunt, we’re just friends.”

  He laughs. “Yeah right. No guy could just be friends with a girl who looks like that. You tappin’ her?”

  His words cause a flood of anger to pulse through my veins. I whip an orange at his head, glaring as it hits him in the left ear.

  “Fuck, man, what the hell?” Hunt looks up, placing a hand over his ear.

  “Don’t talk about her like that. I’m serious.”

  Hunt shakes his head. “Jesus, Huntington. What the hell has gotten into you? You never had a problem before talking about how great Lauren is in the sack and she was your fucking girlfriend.”

  Striding over to Hunt in three steps, I lean down so we’re eye level. “Maura isn’t Lauren. I swear to God, Jeremy, not another word about her better come out of your mouth.”

  His eyes widen as realization dawns on his face. He holds his hands up in surrender. “Okay, man, relax.”

  The timer on the microwave dings, and I move away from Hunt, still pissed as fuck at him for talking about Maura like that and pissed as fuck at myself for reacting like a deranged lunatic. Taking my coffee from the microwave plate, I turn and walk out of the kitchen.

  Upstairs in my bedroom, I take a few deep breaths to try to calm the fuck down. Why the hell am I about to knock my best friend’s teeth down his throat for asking if I’m hooking up with Maura? It’s not a crazy question. Of course the guys must have noticed that Maura and I are kicking it lately. Are my feelings for her that freaking obvious?

  Clenching my hands into fists, I sit on the edge of my b
ed. Maura’s face appears in my mind, pale and scared and devastated. Jesus, she broke my heart at the hospital. The tears she cried, the anguished sobs that ripped from her throat when she thought she was alone, the hiccups that wouldn’t recede for ages. I stood outside her door and wished that I could just waltz into her hospital room, gather her into my arms, and let her soak my shirt and skin with all her pain.

  But I knew she would be horrified. No matter how many times I reach out to her, regardless of the connection between us, Maura has a hard time letting me, or anyone really, in. She’s used to suffering alone, to bearing the burden of Adrian’s passing by herself, to checking her emotions and pasting a smile on her face because it’s easier that way. Easier for everyone except her.

  I sigh, letting my head fall into my open palms, my elbows propped up on my knees. What a disaster. I want to help her heal, support her, be there for her. And I don’t know how to do that.

  Damn, I got to sort my shit out. I need to be honest with Maura and tell her I’m not going anywhere. That I’m here for her, always, no matter what. And not just because Adrian was my best friend and I’m looking out for her out of respect for my friendship with her brother. Nope, I need to tell her the truth. That I’m looking out for her because I care about her, want her in my life, and never want to lose her the way I did Adrian.

  “Hey, dude.” A double knock on my door in quick succession is followed by Bilson’s head appearing around the door frame. “You good?”

  I look up from my hands and sigh. “I snapped at Hunt.”

  “I heard.” James takes a step inside my bedroom and closes the door behind him, leaning against it and crossing his arms over his chest. “What’s the deal?”