My fever was at 102, and I'd called my boyfriend, Justin Simmons, nineteen times. No one picked up.
So I forced myself up and headed to the hospital alone.
Passing the auditorium, I saw Justin draping his jacket over the shoulders of his childhood friend, Summer Winfield.
She muttered something, complaining; he pinched her cheek.
The two of them bickered, easy and close.
I stood in the rain under my umbrella, and for a moment I forgot what I'd even come out to do.
Justin caught sight of me and froze.
"What are you doing here?"
I opened my mouth, but before a word came out,
Summer had already squeezed in under my umbrella.
"I'm freezing, come on, let's go."
Justin came in after her.
The two of them kept squabbling, one on each side of me.
From high school to college, from the start of us to now.
I'd always thought I was the one this relationship couldn't do without.
But whether I was there or not, their world was already whole.
I handed the umbrella to Summer and let go.
"You two go on."
Summer paused.
"Bonnie Harding, what's wrong?"
I looked at the space under the umbrella, the one the two of them filled so perfectly.
"The umbrella's too small."
I didn't want to squeeze in there anymore.
"……"
Through the curtain of rain came Justin's voice, edged with a faint impatience.
"Bonnie, don't just stand out in the rain. If there's something to say, say it back home."
I didn't turn around.
He came after me. A few steps off, Summer stood holding the umbrella, looking lost.
Justin saw how flushed my face was and reached out to touch it.
"Why are you so hot?"
He paused, then glanced back.
"Grab a cab to the hospital first. I'll drop Summer at her dorm and come straight over."
"Don't bother."
"What is wrong with you today!"
His voice climbed.
"I already said I'd be right there. Do you have to make a scene?"
Summer patted his shoulder.
"That's enough, Justin, stop fighting. Take Bonnie first. I can get back on my own."
Justin looked at Summer, then at me.
Then he turned and walked off fast, pulling Summer along.
"Bonnie, get a cab. I'll come find you in a bit."
Their backs faded into the distance.
The ER was packed.
A message came in from Justin.
"Are you at the hospital yet? Which one? I'll come right over."
I didn't reply. Ten minutes later, another one.
"Still angry? I told you I'm coming."
"Summer keeps asking how you are. At least have a little manners and answer your messages."
My finger hovered over the text box for a long time. Then I set the phone down.
One in the morning, I pushed open the door of the rental apartment.
Justin sat on the couch; Summer was curled up beside him, eating spicy crawfish.
"Bonnie, you're back. Justin went all the way to South Street to get you some soup."
Summer looked up.
On the table sat a bowl of chicken and rice soup, scattered all over with cilantro.
"I don't eat cilantro."
He paused, then frowned.
"I forgot to tell the guy. Here, just scoop off the top layer. There shouldn't be any underneath."
Summer tugged at Justin's cheek.
"Justin, your memory… you really need a smack."
He reached back and tugged hers in return.
"You're the one asking for it."
He didn't look back at me, just said flatly,
"All right, all right, I'll be more careful next time."
"Eat a couple of bites to tide you over. I'll buy you a fresh bowl tomorrow."
I picked up the takeout container, carried it to the trash can, and let go.
Thud.
Justin turned around, his face darkening.
"If you don't want it, just leave it. Why do this? Summer's right here. How do you think that makes her feel?"
