“It’s okay,” he said, letting out a heavy sigh.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. I felt like I owed him an explanation.
“I know how important this is to you, but this is just all so new to me. I’m—I’m scared.”
His gray eyes searched my face with an intense focus. Then he nodded, his jaw working slowly. “I know you’re trying. Don’t be scared. Sometimes when you’re in a fight being afraid of getting hit is worse than the hit itself.”
I nodded, my lips trembling. He grabbed my shoulders and held me to him tightly. I rested my face on his shoulder, inhaling his scent. Just being close to him was making me calmer. Whatever Hunter wanted to tell me, I was ready for it. There was no reason to be afraid. After a few more moments of taking deep, shuddering breaths, I felt more composed again and pulled away.
“What did you want to tell me?” I asked, wiping the moisture from my eyes.
Hunter walked over to the small gym bag he had brought. He pulled out a small black pouch and sat down on the bed with a deep breath. His fists clenched and released. “Can we sit down?”
I followed him over to the bed, not taking my eyes off of the pouch. What was in it that would make him react this way? I put my arm around his shoulders and felt his muscles knotted and tight. His back rose and fell with his breathing. We sat there for a few moments. I waited for him to get ready for whatever he was about to tell me, my pulse pounding in my ears.
“I wanna show you something,” he said finally.
I nodded, trying to keep my mind clear.
Hunter unzipped the pouch and opened it on his leg. There was a syringe and a small vial of amber liquid. The curved glass and cruel metal of the syringe made it look dangerous. I held my breath. Thousands of questions popped through the haze of my mind and threatened to spill out of my mouth, but I was determined not to mess it up again.
Whatever this was about, Hunter had chosen to share it with me. The least I could do was be patient and let him take it at his own pace.
“Lorrie, this is my . . .” his voice cracked.
I took his hand in mine, squeezing his calloused fingers in encouragement. His eyes darted around my face.
He sucked in a deep breath before continuing. “This is my MS treatment. I gotta inject it every two weeks. Tonight’s the night.”
I stared at the syringe kit in his pouch for a while, trying to steady my breathing. I could tell that he was studying my reaction carefully so I tried to keep my face neutral, but my heart was in my throat.
Even after he had told me about his condition, it didn’t feel real to me. Hunter still seemed like he was mostly fine, except for the injuries he got from the fight. But now, with his treatment right in front of me, it was suddenly very, very real.
Hunter cleared his throat. “Usually, I get the shots at the health center on campus, but I gotta do them myself tonight.”
I couldn’t think of what to say. I knew that he was showing me this for a reason, but I didn’t want to say something stupid like I had earlier. Even though I could feel his body’s warmth, the silence between us expanded until it felt like we were miles apart.
“Is—”
“Lor—”
We both started talking at once, and then stopped. Neither of us said anything for a few seconds, lost in our own thoughts.
Hunter spoke first. “Sorry, you go first.”
I took a deep breath so it wouldn’t feel like I was suffocating. If I didn’t understand much about Hunter’s condition, maybe the best thing to do was to just ask him about it.
“Will it make you better?”
He shook his head. “It just prevents the episodes from getting worse.”
It was a stupid question and I kicked myself mentally for even asking it. He had said that there was no cure.
I pointed to the pouch. “Does it hurt? I mean, you know, the needle.”
His eyebrows furrowed as he considered it for a second.
“Not as much as being in a fight,” he said. Then his hand gripped tighter around mine. “But afterwards, I feel weak.”
I gave his hand a little squeeze back and looked down into my lap. I didn’t want him to see the tears starting to well up in my eyes. My heart was breaking for him. He had to take a shot that made him feel weaker to keep his condition from getting worse. A helpless fury rose in my chest. This wasn’t fair. None of this was fair.
“It’s kinda one of the side effects,” he added after some time.
His gray eyes were big and soft, and I wanted to say so many things to him, but I didn’t know how to say it, so I just held his hand and leaned my head on his shoulder.
“I wanted to show you,” he mumbled, his voice low. “See if . . . I dunno. I guess to see if you wanted to help.”
“Of course,” I answered quickly. “Of course I’ll help you. Just teach me how.” I hoped he couldn’t hear the shakiness in my voice.
A sad smile broke across his face, and his eyes crinkled. I wanted to hug him and tell him that he wouldn’t have to deal with this alone again, but my throat was too choked up with nerves.
“I’ll fill up the syringe myself, then I’ll need your help,” he said.
I gave him an encouraging nod and Hunter uncapped the syringe and stuck it into the rubber seal on top of the vial, drawing out the liquid.
He flipped the tip of the needle up and tapped the syringe lightly, before squirting a little bit of the amber fluid out of the top. I watched his actions closely. If Hunter and I were going to have a future together, how many times would I have to help him with his injection? Twenty? A hundred? I had to pay attention. He was showing me the reality of his life and I couldn’t mess this up. The gravity of the situation was heavy and suffocating, but I knew I had to do this.
“Can you open up one of those alcohol pads?” he asked, pointing to the the shiny foil packets .
I pulled out one of the packets and tried to rip it open. The packaging seemed to be designed to be difficult. Even after I twisted the damn square every which way it wouldn’t tear. The harder I tried, the more slippery it got in my clammy hands. Every failed attempt was making my hands shake harder.
“Damnit,” I threw it on the bed, frustrated.
Hunter watched me but didn’t make a comment, he just reached into the black bag to give me a new foil packet.
I sucked in air through my teeth, then wiped my sweaty hands on my jeans before taking the shiny square from him. I wasn’t going to give up. This time, it tore open with ease.