Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“I’ll stay too.”
I shook my head. “You don’t have to. I just can’t leave, not until his parents get here.”
“I have an algebra exam at eight that I shouldn’t miss, so …”
“No. Don’t worry about me. You grab a cab and go back to campus.”
“What about you? Can you afford to miss your classes?”
“I can’t think about that.”
Olivia frowned as if my reply was a judgment on her needing to make it for her algebra exam.
“He’s my family. I’ve known him a long time.”
She studied me with indecision in her eyes before relinquishing a tiny nod. “Okay. But call me if anything changes.”
“I will.” I hugged her.
When she started to release me, I tightened my grip, trying to control my emotions before they broke free.
“He’s going to be okay,” she whispered.
I wanted to believe that. But if we were wrong, I would never forgive myself. When our parents drove Ben and me from Devil’s Head to Ann Arbor before the first day of school, their parting words were for us to take care of each other.
I woke with a tap on my arm.
A nurse with a blond pixie cut smiled. “Are you Gabby?”
I nodded, sitting up in the chair while stretching and rubbing my eyes.
“Ben asked for you.”
“He did?” I hopped up.
If he asked for me, it means he was well enough to make requests.
“Can he hear?” I asked, following her through the doors.
“Not very well. But I have a pad of paper and pen for you to communicate so you don’t have to yell.”
“But he’ll get his hearing back, right?” I jogged to catch up to her.
She was shorter than me, but her legs were quick. “I can’t say yet. Here. We recommend you wear a mask since he’s been on antibiotics for less than twenty-four hours.”
I stared at the mask a second before taking it from her. After looping it around my ears, I stepped into his room.
Ben’s face and lips were so pale. Eyes tired. And I was glad to have a mask covering most of my face to hide my true worry because I couldn’t bring myself to smile even though I tried when he glanced up at me.
I squeezed his hand and fought my tears. “Your parents are on their way.”
He didn’t react, not a single blink.
Stupid.
He couldn’t hear, and to add to the confusion, a mask covered my face, so he couldn't see my lips to know I was trying to say something. I took the pen and pad from the table next to him.
Your parents are on their way.
His gaze rested on the paper for several heavy blinks, then lifted to mine, and he nodded.
My brave face slipped, and tears filled my eyes, so I looked down at the paper again.
I should have taken you to the doctor. I’m sorry.
When he read it, lines formed along his forehead, and he rolled his head from side to side. “No,” he whispered.
I swallowed past the lump in my throat.
He stuck his fingers in his ears like they just needed to be cleaned out. “I can’t hear.”
They think you have meningitis.
Ben nodded.
I underlined my first line and added exclamation points.
I should have taken you to the doctor. I’m sorry!!!!!
He grabbed my hand and rested it on his chest as I lifted my other arm to wipe my tears on my sleeve before writing more.
How do you feel?
“Like shit. I may never hear again. Did they tell you that? This could be permanent.”
I wiped more tears and looked away.
“It’s not your fault.”
Tears burned my eyes.
He squeezed my hand and pointed at his eyes. “Not your fault,” he said. “You should get to class.”
I shook my head, and Ben frowned while mumbling, “I’m tired.”
I’ll go to the cafeteria and be back in less than ten minutes.
He gave me a slight headshake.
“Be right back,” I said, even though he couldn’t hear me.
I didn’t need anything from the cafeteria. I needed to call my parents. After accepting the collect call, Mom’s concerned voice made the lump in my throat swell.
“Gabby, is everything okay?”
I pressed a hand to my mouth to hold back my sob.
“Gabriella?”
I cleared my throat. “Ben is in the hospital. They think he has meningitis.” I swallowed another sob.
“Oh dear. Do his parents know?”
“They’re on their way.”
“We’ll pray for him. God will take care of him.”
“Mom”—my voice cracked—“he c-can’t h-hear.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean he can’t hear.” I choked.
“Oh, Gabby. I’m sure it will be fine. What have the doctors said?”
I sniffled. “They said they don’t know if his hearing loss is permanent.”
“Well, one step at a time. Okay?”
“What if he’s not fine?”
“Where is your faith?”
My faith had cracked and continued to chip away with each passing minute that Ben couldn’t hear.
“I’ll pray,” I whispered.
“Good. Let him know the whole church will pray for him. And if either one of you need anything, just call. Also, I want updates as soon as anything changes or the doctors give you more information.”