Boyfriend Material (Hawthorne University, #2)(50)

“I’m sorry . . . what does all that mean?”

“First, she’s lucky she got here. We got to her quickly and she’s currently in a medically induced coma. We’re going to perform surgery to alleviate the swelling.”

I nod rapidly. “Yes, whatever it takes.”

He pulls out a picture of a human brain and points to different areas with his pen as he talks about where the hemorrhage is and how he plans to fix it.

After he’s done, I can barely breathe. “Can I see her? Please.”

He rises. “Come this way.”

Poppy and Taylor stay behind as I follow him behind two double doors and into an elevator. We get off on the third floor and pass a hub where several doctors and nurses are.

Her room is dark except for a light over her bed. There’s a bedside table and two chairs, one a recliner. The irony isn’t lost on me. This is the nicest place she’s been in a while.

An IV is hooked up and machines beep with her heart rate, blood pressure, and oxygen. Her eyes are closed, but she doesn’t look peaceful; she looks awful and so very frail.

I take her hand. “Mom. It’s Julia. I’m here.” I lean my face close to hers. “Please. Be okay . . .” My voice breaks.

A few minutes later, a nurse comes in, her smile kind. “Dear. I’m sorry. But you’ll have to go now.”

I whisper in her ear that I love her and kiss her cheek.

Poppy and Taylor have moved up to a waiting room on the same floor. They take one look at me and tears burst out of me.

They wrap their arms around me and ask how she is as I reply in broken sentences. I explain about the failed surgeries, how she lost her job and our home. We sit down on a couch and I tell them about Connor.

Poppy squeezes my hand. “Oh, Julia. That’s terrible. I’m so sorry. I mean, we figured something was wrong, but you never wanted to talk about it.”

I nod. “I was too embarrassed to tell you. And now this . . .”

Taylor pets my hair. “We’re here for you. We’re here. That’s the important part.”

“The surgery’s going to be in the morning.” The nurse has followed and waits patiently as I ease away from my friends. “You should go home, get some rest, and come back.”

“What time?” I ask.

“Six. We’ll let you see her before she goes back.”

Taylor smiles. “I can bring you.”

We leave the hospital and get back in his car as my head spins.

I lean against the window and think about her splashing with me in the ocean.

Her giggles when she lit candles on tea cookies.

Even if she never gets clean, I still need my mom.

When we pull up at the house, Eric stands on the steps of the porch. He looks like he’s been there a while. Geeze. It’s nearly two in the morning.

Taylor sighs. “Want me to get rid of him?”

I push open the door. “You two go inside. I’ll do it.”

I approach him, then stop. Tension swirls around him as he leans against the railing as if it’s holding him up. His eye is half-swollen shut, his jawline has a purple bruise, and there’s a spot of blood on his temple.

“Looking kind of rough,” Poppy says tartly as she passes him and goes inside.

“Oh my God,” I whisper. “What happened?”

“A fight with the Kappas.”

“Oh.” I frown as I stare at the ground.

“I’m sorry for being a dick after the game,” he says quietly. “I tend to think people are conditional when it comes to me. They only care about you when you’re a winner. You aren’t like that.”

I meet his eyes. Take in the lost look on his face.

He lets out an exhale. “My life is fucked up. Peel back the layers, and there’s nothing there but rot since my brother died. When I came to Hawthorne, I got good at pushing it back, but I’m weak this year. I’m losing control. My life is spinning in a direction that scares me. Taking things out on you? That was wrong.”

I toe at a piece of gravel on the sidewalk.

“See me. Look at me.”

My eyes rise and capture his golden ones as they search my face. His gaze is subdued, almost resigned, as if he’s looking for something from me but doesn’t know what it is.

He comes down the steps and stops in front of me. “But the last few weeks, being your friend. That was real. With you, I don’t have to act. I can just be me. Because you like me for who I am. Not a single person in my life knows who I am, Julia. But I swear . . .” He rakes his hands through his hair. “You’re the closest. And I don’t—” A ragged sound comes from his throat. “I don’t know what I would do without you. You’re my best friend. I need you. You’re the most important . . .”

“Shut up.”

“What?” He shifts from foot to foot. “I’m trying to say I’m sorry—”

I bridge the distance between us and reach up and brush my fingers over his jawline.

I hate that he’s been hurt.

He leans into the touch and dips his head. “Forgive me.”

“I forgive you.”

How can I not?

He’s bared his heart.

He’s been a friend, one I never expected to find.