Have a Heart

by Nashina Makhani

It wasn’t just that Alia had asked me not to; I knew what would happen, knew that they’d all be worried sick. Just like when Rahul uncle’s parents had been ill, the attention would shift from the business, the one that’d only been running properly again for a few years. With their parents being absorbed, it’d fall to Rahul bhai and Anjali di to run the show, putting more weight on them than anyone deserved at such a young age – not to mention what it would likely do to Maya bhabhi and little Zi, having all of it go backwards. Bhaiya had got married only a couple years before things had looked up and Zia had never known things to be any different than they were. The way things had been before, no little kid should have to deal with that.

  If her family were to find out, if any of that would happen, Alia’d be devastated, it’d break her heart – especially if it were to happen because of something to do with her, even if it were beyond her control. She’d blame herself, not caring that there was nothing to be done about it, and she’d just get worse.

  The stress it would cause the Sharma family was still only a part of my hesitance to tell them. Fact of the matter was that keeping it a secret from them was just as much for the sake of Alia’s mental health as it was to keep everything together. By which I mean to stop her from going absolutely stir crazy.

  Her parents just weren’t the type to accept that there’re somethings in this world they couldn’t protect their kids from, that their kid was sick and nobody could do anything about it. To a certain extent, her siblings were the same. They were all so used to protecting Alia, to keeping her in the dark, out of the way of any kind of harm, they were yet to realise she wasn’t a baby any more, that they couldn’t keep her safe from all the horrors of the world. Their intentions were good, that much was undeniable, but the way they went about things, well, it didn’t always come off that way. And with this, if they found out about her condition, they’d try to wrap her up in cotton wool and bubble wrap, treat her like she was made of glass.

  For someone like Alia, someone who’d grown so accustomed to doing things on her own over the years, someone who’d had to learn how to be independent at a pretty young age, being kept at home ‘out of danger’ would drive her up the wall in less than twenty-four hours.

  Which put me in one hell of a position.

  If I wanted to keep my best friend relatively sane, I couldn’t go my usual route of the family approach, leaving me with no sure-fire way of getting her to relax. I kept trying, of course I did, my attempts becoming increasingly obvious as she kept pushing herself harder. But she remained as stubborn as ever, paying no mind to her health as she spent days and nights pouring over textbooks, going through one past paper after another.

  The closer we got to exams, the more obsessive she became, the more frantic, the more obviously dishevelled. And, in turn, the worse her symptoms got and the more I worried. And still, she point-blank refused to hear me out.

  I told her time and again that she’d end up in the hospital before long if she didn’t start taking better care of herself; I did, really. As always, she brushed me off, told me she knew her own limits and she’d take care of herself properly once exams were done with. Over and over again she told me that she didn’t have time for any of it, not yet, not until we’d finished our A-levels because she had to do well – more than well, she had to ace them. Because, if she didn’t, those dreams she’d held and chased for so longs, they’d never be anything but dreams. I could understand that but what she couldn’t understand was that they’d never be more than dreams anyway, not if she was dead before the end of the year.

  It wasn’t until she woke up in a hospital bed, completely disorientated, that she finally realised I was right.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Monday before our first exam, we were in the Sharma house. It was raining, chucking it down, so we had no choice but to stay in and study, sitting at either end of the dining table, taking up one half each with our maths’ textbooks, past papers, notebooks, all kinds of stationary and scrap paper littering the space, overflowing onto the chairs and floor.

  For the first time in months, I didn’t have a single thought about stopping and taking a break, too overwhelmed by the thought of the exam we had to sit in less than seventy-two hours. My own stress had gotten to levels so high that I wasn’t paying attention to anything else; with the exam in three days, my only thoughts were about integration, derivatives and mechanics, my brain chock full of equations and variables that I needed to remember.

  There wasn’t space for anything else see, that’s why I didn’t realise that, across the table from me, the stress was hitting someone else so much harder. For a little while there, I’d been blissfully free of the worry that’d been consuming me for ages, letting myself concentrate on something else for once.

  It hadn’t occurred to me, not even for a second, that the spike in stress would play havoc with blood pressures and the like, especially given that there was every chance she’d have forgotten to take her medicine thanks to exam brain. Hell, even I’d nearly forgotten to take my ADHD meds three days in the past seven days and I got horrible headaches without them.

  But I was so focused on the paper in front of me, trying to make my way through a problem with way too many words and not nearly enough numbers – something that drove my hyperactive, number-inclined brain absolutely nuts. I didn’t have the attention span to focus anything else really, had to give the problem all my attention else I’d lose track of where I was at and have to start it all over again.

  That’s why I didn’t notice that the girl sat on the other side of the room was clearly in pain. I didn’t notice as she winced, paid no mind to the little gasps of pain, the noises sounding so much like the grunts of frustration that were always so common during revision that I automatically just tuned them out. I’d so completely convinced myself that she was simply annoyed with the material she was going through that I didn’t even look up when I heard my name, just responding with a ‘hmm,’ as I scribbled out another equation.

  It was only when I didn’t get a reply that I looked up, my pencil falling to the table with an almost silent thud as I took in the look on her face, pain twisting her features, every shallow breath bringing another wince. ‘Li,’ I tried to say, the word not quite coming out right. I gulped, forcing myself to swallow around the lump in my throat, clearing it with a cough hoping my voice would come out clearer, a little less shaky when I tried again. ‘Lia,’ I repeated, my voice significantly stronger but I couldn’t get anything more out, unsure of what should come next.

  Besides, I didn’t have time to sit around bothering with words. With a shake of my head, I tossed all other thoughts from my head, forcing myself to concentrate. Okay Jai, one thing at a time, I told myself. Assess the situation, find the problem, figure out the solution, I thought, basically switching my emotions off and letting my brain flip back to problem-solving mode, something made so much easier by the fact that I’d spent hours steeped in numbers.

  I let logic take over, taking the whole situation as though it was nothing more than another problem in a question paper. Right, now, what’s the thing here? Pain, that much’s obvious. Apparently significant pain. But I can’t do much about that; she’s not gonna be able to swallow so much as a Claritin with how shallow she’s breathing… wait, breathing. She’s having problems breathing. Breathing problems… she’s asthmatic, Alia’s asthmatic… ‘Inhaler!’ I said out loud, my feet taking me towards the kitchen before I’d even fully got the words out, part of my brain having worked a little faster, gotten there seconds before I realised it.

  It took me less than a minute to get to the medicine cupboard, throw it open and find the little blue pump amidst the rest of the medications, boxes and bottles falling out and clattering to the counter as I shoved them aside in my haste. But still, by the time I got back into the dining room, Alia’s breathing had become even more ragged. I knew, even as I rushed round the table and got the inhaler up to her mouth, I knew that it wasn’t g
oing to be of much help. Despite that, I pressed down on the cold metal tube, letting out the puff of Ventolin that usually worked to help ease her breathing, stop and asthma attack – or panic attack as it might’ve been.

  Of course, the problem was, for it to work, she’d’ve needed to be able to hold her breath, keep the medicine in long enough that it could get into her system. I watched as she tried to, closing her mouth and trying her hardest to keep it in. The attempt was futile and I knew it but I kept on hoping anyway, starting the ten-second count. I barely got to three before her breath left her again, rushing out like it’d been forced.

  Desperate, I tried to get the inhaler back up but my ability to keep thinking logically had flagged, the emotions coming back in and my hands started to shake. I tried to get myself back under control but I’d already let it slip too much and I couldn’t manage it, couldn’t get my hands to steady. Though I suppose, even if I’d been able to get them under control, even if I hadn’t fumbled, the inhaler wouldn’t have been all that much help.

  There was all of fifteen seconds between my attempt to use the inhaler again and it dropping to the floor, fifteen seconds in Alia’s breath became shallower still before I stopped being able to hear it at all. Those fifteen seconds stretched on for an eternity.

  In that small eternity, I looked from my fumbling fingers to my best friend, just in time to see her eyes roll back and her body tilt to the side, slipping off the chair. There wasn’t enough time to process a thing, only a split second for me to make the decision to drop the inhaler, letting it fall out of my hand as I dove forwards, just managing to catch Alia before she would’ve hit the tiled floor. ‘Li?’ I called, shaking her. She didn’t move, didn’t give any kind of response or reaction. ‘Alu?’ I tried again, still getting nothing. ‘Alia!’ I all but yelled, panicked. And yet, still no response.

  For thirty seconds, I let the panic consume me before literally slapping myself back to reality, smacking my hand against the back of my head. The small shock of pain jolted me back to reality and the panic was gone. ‘Come on Jaival, think!’ I snapped at myself. ‘She’s passed out, asthma attack or panic attack or something. And the chest pains. Could be bad. Could be really bad. Hospital, gotta get to the hospital,’ I muttered, the thoughts coming faster than I could keep up. ‘Ambulance? No. By the time I call, if I can even get my head straight enough to explain. Bike. No, can’t. Li can’t. That leaves car.’ I stopped, running a hand through my hair and groaning in frustration. ‘Shit. Shit shit shit. Car, it’s gotta be the car. I’ve gotta drive there.’

  Not going to lie, in that moment, I was terrified. I’d not been behind the wheel of a car since just after I’d passed my practical. I’d got my bike and hadn’t been able to make myself sit in the driver’s since ever since, the thought of how it was the last thing my dad had ever done, drive a car, coming over me every time I even thought about trying.

  But, in that moment, I knew I had no other choice.

  So, I lifted my unconscious best mate into my arms and carried her out the house, grabbing her keys as I went and taking her to the blue Audi A3 in the driveway, placing her in the backseat of her own car before getting in the driver’s seat. For the first time ever, I had no thought of my dad as I got into that seat, too scared for the health of the girl in the back to be scared of the vehicle.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The drive to the hospital passed in a blur; I couldn’t even tell you how long it took to be honest. I don’t even think I remember it, the only thing coming to mind when I tried an overwhelming sense of panic and urgency.

  For the life of me, I don’t know how I’d made it to the hospital without incident. My brain was all over the place, thoughts scattered as they’d ever been but somehow I’d managed to concentrate on the road and find us a spot to park. The how didn’t matter though, not really. All that mattered was that I got Alia inside as fast as humanly possible. She groaned a little as I got her out of the car, the small noise easing the tightness in my chest just a little.

  All the same, I hurried inside, managing to keep up with things up until a nurse came by with a stretcher and took Alia back through the double doors. After that, I lost track of everything.

  I knew what was happening, could see it all, even managing to answer the questions put to me about Alia’s personal information and medical history. But it was like I was curled inside myself, stuck in a corner of my own mind and watching it happen, looking on as though it was someone else.

  Being agitated as I was, it did take a little longer than usual to get the information out, simply because my brain was such a complete mess that it took a few seconds to get the words from my mind to my mouth.

  Once she’d got the necessary information out of me, the receptionist took pity on me, giving me a sympathetic smile and telling me to take a seat, that it shouldn’t be all that long before they figured out what was wrong. I barely heard the words, switching to autopilot as I nodded and moved to sit in one of the stiff waiting room chairs, resigning myself to waiting.

  ***

  Close to three hours later, long after my feet had started to hurt from pacing and my muscles tired of the transitions between sitting and walking, a nurse came through the double doors, calling for the family of Alia Sharma. It took a moment for me to realise that that meant me, looking around for a second to see who reacted before it clicked and I stood up, muscles protesting a little at the sudden movement.

  As I crossed the room, the nurse waiting for me gave me an understanding smile – thankfully not that sad, understanding one that I so hated, dreaded – waiting patiently until I was stood in front of her before speaking. ‘I’d guess you must be Jai?’ she asked. Not realising how odd it was that she knew my name, I nodded and waited for her to continue. ‘Alia’s been asking for you,’ she explained.

  ‘She has?’ I questioned, not having expected her to be awake.

  ‘Yeah, been giving the doctors hell for the past fifteen minutes, insisting that someone let you know what’s going on before she’d let anyone near her.’ I couldn’t help but laugh at how typically Alia that was; seemed nothing could ever have an impact on her stubbornness.

  ‘That definitely sounds like Lia,’ I chuckled as the nurse gestured for me to follow her and began to lead the way through the hallways.

  ‘If she’s always so stubborn, you must have your hands full; difficult to get a word in edgeways with that one, looks like,’ she joked.

  ‘You don’t know the half of it,’ I agreed. ‘But what can I do? I’ve known the girl forever, gotten used to it.’ The nurse gave me a knowing smile in response as we came to a stop outside a room.

  ‘I have to say Miss Sharma,’ she began to say as she opened the door and walked in, ‘your boyfriend has the patience of a saint, waiting out there for so long.’

  I felt my face heating a little as my idiot of a best friend laughed and corrected her. ‘He’s not my boyfriend. Just a guy who got unlucky enough to be my best friend; don’t think he knew he’d end up stuck with me forever.’

  ‘Could’ve fooled me,’ the nurse remarked, sending Alia a teasing wink. Again, she just laughed, shaking her head.

  ‘We get that a lot,’ she chuckled, giving me the same look she did every time, just about refraining from rolling her eyes.

  Clearly feeling a little awkward by this point, the nurse cleared her throat with a cough before speaking again. ‘The doctor’ll be in to see you in a minute,’ she said before leaving the room.

  I made my way to the chair next to the bed, letting out a sigh of relief as I sat in it to find that it was much more comfortable than the ones outside. She reached her hand out towards me and I took it, finally feeling the worry ebb away. ‘You scared the life outta me today,’ I told her, giving her a stern look when her expression changed to that exasperated look, the one that told me she was about to wave away my concerns. ‘I mean it Li. That asthma attack, panic attack, whatever the hell it was, I’ve not seen you like th
at since we were in year nine. You’re lucky there was even an inhaler in the house – not that it did any good. I don’t even know how we made it here! And how you managed to make it here in the back of the car… God, I’m so stupid, I should’ve called an ambulance. You could’ve ended up in a coma or somethin’ with me bein’ an idiot like that.’

  ‘But I didn’t,’ she countered. ‘So why don’t we leave the hypotheticals yeah? It doesn’t matter what would’ve or could’ve happened. There was an inhaler in the house and we did make it here and I’m fine.’

  ‘You’re missing the point here! You’re fine this time but what if it happens again? And what if you’re not. You being okay right now, that’s a bloody miracle; they don’t happen left, right and centre. You need to start taking better care of yourself.’

  ‘Jai, listen to me. I. am. Fine. Nothing’s gonna happen; I was just stressed and I couldn’t figure out the problem I was on, couldn’t get the numbers to go the way they should and the anxiety set in. I was overthinking and I spiralled and I had a panic attack, that’s all,’ she told me, like there was nothing to worry about even though she was lying in a hospital bed.

  But I didn’t get the chance to argue.

  The door opened then and the doctor walked in, starting to go over test results and effectively cutting our conversation short. Silently, I cursed the doctor, shooting Alia a this-isn’t-over look before pretending I was paying attention.

  Chapter Sixteen

  They kept her in the hospital overnight. Aunty and uncle were more than a little concerned and it was left to me to explain why to them, come up with an excuse; my stomach sank when I realised that the lies came so easily to me then, that I could look at them both and tell them that there was nothing to worry about, that their daughter was fine, that the doctors were only worried because it’d been so long since she’d last had an attack.