Fix You (9 page)

He’d lost Zoey to a couple of girls within minutes of arriving at the party, but he wasn’t surprised. She was pretty popular with their classmates. She was smart without being geeky, funny without being obnoxious, interesting without being a gossip. As a result, pretty much everyone liked her. He helped a couple of the other guys keep the big bonfire going by chopping up kindling and tossing it onto the flames. Jackie had driven his truck right into the center of the field and was blasting loud rap music from speakers set up in the bed.

Rob found an empty beach chair someone had abandoned and stretched out next to the fire. He got a kick out of watching his friends get drunker and drunker as the night progressed. A few girls came over and tried to engage him in conversation. Sheila kept leaning closer, accidentally brushing her tits against his arm. She was flying pretty high, sucking down wine coolers like water. For a minute, he considered inviting her to join him in the backseat of his car. Why not? It wasn’t like he’d see her after tonight.

Hell, he thought, as he glanced around, chances were good he’d never see most of these kids again. He’d spent the last thirteen years of his life growing up with them. They’d studied for exams together, pretended to read books for book reports, choked down disgusting school lunches, ditched classes, roughhoused in the local pool each summer, and he’d made out with more than a few of the girls. These kids had been his friends, his enemies, and some were still strangers.

It was weird to think tomorrow they would start to disappear—one by one—to go off to college or join the military or move away to take a job in some far-off city. He wondered if he should be more depressed about that fact. Strangely, he wasn’t upset at all.

There was only one person from this class he never wanted to lose contact with and that was Zoey. They’d discussed their plans for after graduation at length. Both of them intended to remain home a bit longer. Zoey had signed up to take paralegal courses at the community college near their town. It was a two-year program. Meanwhile, Rob was switching his status at the grocery store from part-time to full-time, working to save money for his own place. He was determined to make a career of his music, something his father was finally starting to accept…begrudgingly. He’d stay at home as long as he could, then he and Zoey were going to get a place together. She’d be the perfect roommate.

“So, Rob,” Sheila placed her hand on his knee, moving it slowly along his upper thigh, “why don’t we find somewhere private to celebrate?”

He grinned, ready to accept her offer when something behind her caught his eye. Zoey had joined the circle of kids around the bonfire. She was bleary-eyed and unsteady on her feet. Rob’s gaze narrowed.

Shit. She was drunk. He’d never seen Zoey drink in her life. He stood up. Sheila must have taken his movement as acquiescence because she grabbed his hand, intent on dragging him away to one of the tents set up for kids planning to spend the night.

“Wait,” he said, releasing Sheila’s hand. “There’s, um, there’s something I need to do first. Meet you back here in a little while?”

Sheila seemed a bit annoyed, but one of her friends chose that moment to offer her another wine cooler. She squealed when she saw the flavor and drifted away. Rob reconsidered coming back to find her. Sheila wasn’t exactly the brightest bulb.

He circled the bonfire until he stood next to Zoey.

“Hey,” she said, her voice unnaturally loud.

“I see you’re having a good time.” He gestured to her cup. “What are you drinking?”

“Kool-Aid. It’s really good. Wan’ some?” She offered him the cup, tipping it slightly and splashing some of the red drink on his jeans. “Oops. Shit.”

She reached down to wipe it off, unaware of exactly where she was touching him. He hastily grabbed her wrist before she could stroke her hand along his cock a third time. Damn thing didn’t care who was touching it or why, it began to stiffen. He glanced over his shoulder. Fuck. Maybe he would hook up with Sheila tonight after all.

Zoey giggled when she realized what she’d done. “Oops again.”

Rob took the cup out of her hands before she could spill any more and sniffed the contents. The overpowering smell of grain alcohol caused his eyes to water. “Jeez, Zoey. How much of this shit have you had?”

She frowned, appearing to really think about his question. “Um, two? Or maybe three. Or…” She shrugged and started giggling again.

Great. This wasn’t going to end well. As if his thought provoked the outcome, Zoey grabbed her stomach.

“I don’t feel so good.”

He didn’t waste any time. Grabbing her arm, he dragged her as far away from the fire and party-goers as he could. She’d be mortified tomorrow if she found out she’d been sick in front of everyone.

The sound of the music in the distance faded, mercifully. The silence drove home just how loud it was and he was suddenly grateful for the quiet.

At least, he was until Zoey shrugged off his hand and fell to her knees. The alcohol came up quickly. He leaned over her, grasping her hair to hold it away from her face. She continued to be sick for several minutes more before she finally leaned back on her haunches.

“God,” she said, “I hate being sick.”

Rob grinned. “I know it might not seem like it right now, but I think you’ll feel better tomorrow for what just happened.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Better out than in?”

He nodded. “Something like that.”

She didn’t smile at his joke. Instead, she just looked at him. “Promise me…” She paused and he realized she didn’t intend to finish her request.

“I’ll promise you anything, Zoey. You know that. What do you want?”

The clouds overhead floated away from the moon, providing enough light for him to see there were tears in her eyes. He helped her stand and they walked deeper into the field.

“Promise me our plans aren’t lies, aren’t just silly dreams that kids make up rather than face that things are changing. I don’t want to lose you.”

He felt the same way. There was a bond between them stronger than any Rob had ever forged with anyone outside his family. Hell, he was closer to her than he’d ever be with his brother…or his father. “Our plans aren’t lies or dreams. I mean every word, I swear. We’re going to save our money, get our own place. You’re going to be the best paralegal in town and I’m going to be…” His words faded. He couldn’t speak his true desires because he was afraid they would sound like the foolish dreams of a child.

“A rock star,” she finished for him. “That’s the only part of our plans I truly believe.”

“If you can believe that, you can believe the rest.”

She nodded and smiled. “Yeah. You’re right. Promise me anyway. Promise you’ll always be my friend, no matter where we go or who we grow up to be.”

“Always.” He’d never meant any promise more. “We’ll be friends forever.”

Rob sighed and glanced at the closed bathroom door. Zoey had been quiet for several minutes. He stood and knocked once more.

“Can I come in now?”

“It’s not locked.”

He took that as permission, turning the knob to find her sitting on the floor near the toilet. She was leaning against the wall with her eyes closed. She was the poster child for exhaustion.

“You okay?”

She nodded once, then changed direction, shaking her head. “Nope. I think I must be dying. I’m actually starting to like the god-awful wallpaper in here.”

Rob laughed. Zoey had made no secret in the past about her disdain for the bathroom’s décor. Even after years of redecorating, paint touch-ups, and weekend DIY projects, it was the one room he’d never touched because he loved jerking her chain about it. “Come on. I’m putting you to bed.”

She reached for him, accepting his outstretched hands. He pulled her up and helped her to the sink. Putting toothpaste on her toothbrush, he wet it and handed it to her.

“I feel like a helpless child.”

He kissed her on the cheek. “You’ve never been helpless a day in your life.”

“I hate being sick.”

He nodded. “Yeah. I think you’ve told me that a time or two.” After graduation, he’d only seen Zoey truly drunk on two other occasions. Once was after her nasty breakup with Drake, the asshole. The other was on her thirtieth birthday and he was to blame for her intoxication that night. He’d thrown her a surprise party at a local club. His band was playing and once he’d announced it was her birthday to everyone in attendance, Zoey was the recipient of lots and lots of celebratory shots.

After she finished brushing her teeth, he took her hand and walked with her to the bedroom. He helped her undress, careful not to bother the port, which was still sore. She crawled beneath the sheets and sighed. “I’m so tired.”

“The doctor said that was normal.”

“Yeah, I know, but I hope I’m better tomorrow. I have to go to work.”

Kristen had come through for Zoey, making arrangements for Dottie, a newly retired paralegal, to fill in for her on chemo days. Problem was Zoey was pushing herself too hard, refusing to take off other days when she really needed them. During the last month, he’d waged a constant battle with her about calling in sick. Regardless of her stubbornness, he intended to keep fighting the war, determined that she take better care of herself. If not, she’d work herself to exhaustion and make herself truly sick. He’d recently enlisted the help of the wine girls.

“Kristen said Dottie’s perfectly willing to work more than one day every other week. If you need an extra day or two to recover, I think you should take them.”

Zoey sighed. “I know you think that, but I can’t let this take over my life. Why couldn’t things have stayed the same?”

It was the closest Zoey had ever come to complaining about her fate. “Life moves fast, things change. Sometimes I think our only job on this planet is to hold on so we don’t get thrown off the ride.”

“Hold on,” she repeated in a whispered breath. “What happens when you’re too tired to do that?”

He ran his hand through her hair. “You let someone else help. And you take off from work until you find your strength again.”

She gave him a sleepy smile. “You’re like a dog with a bone.”

“Zoey—”

“Don’t let me sleep long. I only need a little nap, and then I’m sure I’ll be right as rain.”

“Zoey,” he started to persist.

“Let me see how I feel tomorrow, Robbie. If I’m still sick, I’ll call Dottie.”

“Promise?”

She stared at him, the grin tugging at the corner of her lips growing. “You’re starting to sound like me.”

“I’ve made you a million promises in the past. You owe me a few.”

Her grin broke free. “Fine. I promise.”

He was only slightly appeased. After all, she’d promised to
consider
calling in, not that she would definitely take the day off. Freaking semantics. Next time he’d word his request better.

He started to leave the room, then changed course. He closed the blinds to dim the outside light.

“Fuck it.” He pulled off his shirt before kicking off his shoes and pants.

“What are you doing?” she asked, even as she scooted over to make room for him.

“I’m tired too. A nap sounds pretty damn good right about now. What do you say we just hold on to each other for a little while?”

Neither of them had slept well the night before. Zoey had tossed and turned, worried about her second treatment. Knowing what to expect at the center hadn’t alleviated her anxiety so much as compound it. She’d also struggled to find a comfortable position, cursing the port as she tossed and turned.

She’d offered to sleep on the couch around three a.m. when it was clear she was keeping him up as well. He’d refused and pulled her close. They’d lain in the dark for nearly an hour talking. He couldn’t even remember what about now—stupid crap like what they needed from the grocery store and a title for the new song he was writing. It never mattered what they said as long as they were together.

Zoey stretched out on her back as he lay down next to her. She reached over to grasp his hand. He knew she was too sore to cuddle, so he took her hand and gave it a little squeeze.

“Two treatments down,” he said.

“And too fucking many more to go.”

“Yeah. Go to sleep, Zoey.”

“Love you,” she whispered, her eyes drifting shut. He’d known the second she hit the bed that she wouldn’t last long. Her exhaustion had been almost tangible.

“Love you too.” He looked at her briefly, then let sleep take him as well.

Chapter Six

Zoey lay in bed, still drowsy, but not tired. She marveled over the difference. Before chemo, she wouldn’t have recognized it, but now she could. Instead of the usual bone weariness that kept her down for days, this morning she felt rested, lazy, comfortable, warm.

Nearly a month had passed since her first chemotherapy treatment and so far her reactions to the drugs seemed fairly textbook. Dammit. The textbook sucked. She was always thirsty, her hands were numb and she was prone to nosebleeds. She was spending way too much time in the bathroom these days—due to nausea or diarrhea. She felt like one giant blob of disgusting.