I press my lips together thinking back to the other night. Declan has so many demons. So many hardships he’s dealing with. He seems scared to take a chance on us and then there’s the whole issue with his brother.
“What is it?” Holland asks.
I lean forward. “Let’s say someone didn’t have insurance to cover their medical care. Would there be a way for them to see a doctor at no cost?” It’s completely out on left field but Holland wants to be a doctor. She volunteers at the hospital and if I remember correctly, Cole’s dad is dating a doctor. I looked it up and a pulmonologist deals with breathing. That’s exactly what Logan needs.
“Are you okay, Poppy? What’s going on?” Holland asks and I read her alarm.
“It isn’t me. I’ve got basic insurance,” I explain.
“I’m confused,” Holland says.
“This is super private. I know you want to be a doctor, and don’t they have to take on some oath to protect privacy?” I ask.
“Yes,” she nods and answers slowly.
“Declan has a younger brother. He doesn’t have medical insurance and he has really bad asthma. He’s trying to make it onto a Division 1 hockey team for next year, but if the scouts catch on to his health condition it reduces the chances of him getting recruited,” I explain quietly.
“Declan never mentioned his brother.” Her brows furrow and she looks at me again, almost like she is seeing me for the first time.
“Nobody can know about this. If Declan knew I said anything, he would never forgive me. It’s just his mother is a mess, and his brother deserves this chance. I know what it’s like to want to get out of a bad situation. I had to work really hard for my full ride here. Logan deserves a chance too,” I say.
“Yeah, he does,” Holland agrees. “I’m not a doctor yet but a medical professional can choose to provide free treatment. Problem is the cost of drugs in this country. Most aren’t subsidized and if I’m guessing right, then Declan’s brother needs to be put on a course of asthma inhalers. An oral steroid of some sort. Let me see what I can do,” she says, and she looks at her phone. “I’ve got to run but I’m really glad we bumped into each other.” She stands and leans in for another half hug. I’m left wondering if I should’ve shared what I did.
“Please keep this quiet,” I plead softly.
“My lips are sealed.” She makes a twisting key motion with her hand to her lip. “It’s really nice that you want to help Declan. The situation sounds complicated. Cole’s dad owns a pharmaceutical company. There are all kinds of trials going on and his girlfriend, like you mentioned, is a doctor. I’m going to have to go to Cole’s dad on my own about this.”
“I’m sorry to put you in this position,” I say honestly.
“There aren’t too many people who would care enough about someone they’ve never met. It says something about your character, Poppy.” She gives me a half smile that touches her eyes and fills them with warmth.
“Thanks.” Holland takes off to class and I gather my stuff too. If Declan knew that Cole’s girlfriend knew about this he would flip. I feel like I’m walking a tightrope over Niagara Falls and any moment it can snap. All it will take is for Bonnie to open her mouth or for Cole to find out what I just revealed to Holland. My palms begin to sweat. You need to think positive. Wipe out the negative. I had spent senior year of high school reading personal stories about famous people who made it out of poverty. The key message was to believe it’s possible and stay positive. So instead of thinking of my impending doom, I choose to hope that Holland will come up with a solution to help Logan.
TWENTY-ONE
Declan
“You should come with us,” Liam says.
“Seriously, McAvoy, the only time you come to hang out with us is if we’re going to a bar,” Rowan says.
“’Cause I like bars,” I answer dryly.
“Fuckwad. Just come with, we’ll cream their asses,” Ryse says. The guys are headed to a paintball place in town. From what I heard they divide up on separate teams, then shoot each other up with color until the last man standing doesn’t get hit. Sounds like my kind of game but I have something else on my mind, or rather, someone.
“Sounds fun, but I have work to catch up on.” It isn’t a lie.
“You’re no fun,” Ryse says, and I feel bad to let my best friend down. I also feel bad that I’m looking forward to having an empty house so Poppy can come over. Ever since that roommate of hers walked in on us, me going over there isn’t a good idea. Poppy says she’s pretty sure the girl will keep her mouth shut, but I’m not so sure.
“Gotta get good grades. Besides, last night’s game kind of tired me out,” I state.
“It was a rough game,” Leo chimes in.
“Yeah, I still can’t believe we lost on a shootout,” I say. Coach called our asses out after last night’s debacle. We should not have allowed Pittsburgh to score that many times.
“Guys, get over it and move forward. That’s what today is about. Let loose and have fun, tomorrow we bring it to practice,” Liam says, sounding very much like the team captain he is.
“Okay, we’re out,” Ryse announces and he fist bumps me, probably knowing better than to convince me of something I’m not interested in doing.
The guys pile out in Leo’s and Rowan’s cars. I wait a minute and text Poppy.
Me: They’re gone.
The minute I heard the guys planning a paintball outing this morning I texted her and asked her if she wanted to spend the day together. She was kind of hesitant about coming over because her brother lives here, but I assured her that the guys are a good forty-five-minute drive away. When they go paintballing they are out all day and usually drive into the city for pizza afterward.
I wait downstairs by the door and watch her step out of the Uber. She looks gorgeous in a tight pair of jeans and simple Westfall sweatshirt. Her auburn hair falls in waves over her shoulders. I open the door and she smiles when she sees me.
“I missed you,” I say before I can think better of it. I wrap an arm around her and kiss her then close the front door.
“It’s only been five days,” she giggles.
“Ah! So you’ve been counting,” I laugh.
“Maybe.” She squints.
“Get in here.” I take her arm gently and lead her deeper into the house.
“I can’t believe I’m here. You sure there’s no chance of them coming back?” she asks.
“Definitely not. They’ll be back this evening,” I assure her.
“So what are we going to do?” she asks.
“Have you eaten lunch?”
She shakes her head.
“I’m going to feed you. Follow me.”
I head into the kitchen. I picked up some pasta, chicken and fresh vegetables. I may have an Italian mother, but she was never the type to spend time in the kitchen. I googled a recipe for fettucine with chicken breast and walked over to the campus grocery store this morning to buy the ingredients.
“Have a seat,” I say to her. There’s a bunch of stools lined up along a breakfast bar.