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III.
It was one of those days when everything went right.
For the first time ever, Carlos had scored the winning goal in a tourney game. Judging by the look of shock on his face when the rest of the team slapped him on the back and cheered, even he couldn't believe it. Jay carried Carlos into the Auradon dining hall on his back, laughing as Carlos dug his hands into his long, black hair and held on tight. It was good in a way that couldn’t exist on the island, because Carlos had a plate piled high with pot roast and mashed potatoes and three fresh dinner rolls, because Carlos was surrounded by big, muscular guys who weren’t even thinking about hurting him, because afterwards they’d go back to their shared dorm and play video games until lights-out.
It was good, it was just good, and Jay didn’t know what to do about that nagging feeling in the back of his head that something was wrong. It was almost never justified, not anymore, so he sat there, trying to ignore it, until he happened to glance at Carlos again…
…and saw two fresh dinner rolls on his plate…
…and Carlos about to bite into a third…
…and he tackled Carlos to the ground, knocking the roll out of his hand.
He was distantly aware that behind him, people were shouting and jumping to their feet, but the only thing he could focus on was Carlos. Carlos instinctively pushed back against Jay, trying to wrestle him off, but Jay resisted him easily, even though his head was pounding and the floor felt like it was slanted and the dining hall was spinning around him.
It took him a few seconds to catch his breath, but once he did, he gasped out, “You can’t eat that.”
Carlos’s eyes widened.
“I—I didn’t—,” he stammered, but before he could finish, Ben grabbed Jay from behind and pulled him off.
“You don’t get it,” Jay said, struggling against Ben’s grip. “He’s got, like, this thing that happens when he eats bread or anything, let me go.”
“Hey, take it easy,” said Ben. “Those are gluten-free rolls, all right? I know about Carlos’s wheat allergy.”
“His wheat…what?”
“I’m sorry,” said Carlos. “I actually did some research into the bread thing, and I was going to tell you, but I just…I forgot. I’m sorry,” he said again.
“It’s fine, all right?” said Ben. "Trust me."
Jay, still dizzy, looked down at Carlos, and couldn’t quite make himself believe it.
II.
Carlos sometimes missed a day of school. That happened, when you had a mother like Cruella. If he was gone for more than three days, though, something was probably going on.
Mal and Jay had an arm-wrestling match to decide who had to go check on him. Jay lost (on purpose).
When he opened the door, the smell of vomit nearly knocked him over. Carlos was curled up on the floor, clutching his stomach and moaning. Jay’s heart was pounding so hard he felt like his ribs would break. No no not again no…
“What the fuck did you eat,” said Jay.
Carlos seemed to spasm on the ground, then frantically tried to pull himself to his feet.
“It’s just me,” said Jay. Carlos collapsed to his knees. “What happened?”
“I ate half a loaf of bread.”
Jay wanted to break something. “Carlos, you can't do that,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” said Carlos. “I…she locked me down here, and I couldn’t find anything else to eat, and I got so hungry I wasn’t thinking straight, and…I’m sorry.”
Jay looked at Carlos, who was on his knees with his arms wrapped around his stomach and his eyes closed tightly. He took a deep breath. Then he bent down and scooped Carlos up into his arms. Carlos yelped.
“Relax, okay?” said Jay. “We’re just gonna go back to my place and get you some food that isn’t trying to kill you.”
“I have to clean up,” Carlos protested weakly. “I threw up everywhere, she’ll come back and she’ll see, and—owww.” He clutched at his stomach again.
“We’ll trick Evie into doing it,” said Jay. “Or…or I’ll do it, okay?”
“Okay,” Carlos breathed, then, softly, “thank you.”
Jay squeezed Carlos closer to his chest and closed his eyes. “You’re gonna be fine,” he said, more to reassure himself than to reassure Carlos.
I.
It was one of those days when everything went right.
They’d been caught in a three-way standoff with the pirates and Mad Maddy’s crew, and ended up winning control of the most recent supply dump from Auradon. That meant enough food to eat well for at least a couple weeks, leverage over the other gangs, and, of course, something to show off to their parents. It was good in a way that couldn’t exist anywhere but the island, the vicious glee and the sweet rush of relief and the aftershocks of the adrenaline, Mal’s triumphant smile, Evie chattering about her experimental pasta sauce (she was honestly kind of a shitty cook, but in a comforting kind of way), Carlos gulping down forkfuls of pasta with a huge grin on his face.
It was good, until Carlos started clutching as his stomach, moaning as half-chewed pasta fell out of his mouth.
“Carlos, what’s wrong?” said Evie, looking more closely at him.
“It’s your sauce,” said Jay, flicking a pasta shell at her.
Evie shook her head. “This is different. Look.” She pointed at Carlos’s left cheek, which seemed to be swelling up.
“Poison?” said Mal.
Evie shook her head. “I checked.” She grabbed Carlos by the hair, examining his face. “I think he’s having a hard time breathing.”
“What? Why?” said Jay.
Carlos grabbed at his throat, eyes wide, panicked. “Can’t…” he said hoarsely.
“Carlos?” said Jay, and suddenly the realization hit him like a bucket of cold water: Carlos could die.
Carlos almost dying wasn’t new—honestly, it probably happened about three times a day. The difference was, most of the time, Jay could position himself between death and Carlos. He could steal food and punch bullies in the face and fish Carlos out of the water, but the simple fact of it was that the parts of Carlos’s runty, skin-and-bones body responsible for his ability to draw breath had suddenly shut down, and Jay couldn’t do anything about it.
“Come on, you have to breathe, Carlos, breathe,” he said, grabbing Carlos and shaking him. He could feel his voice breaking, but just for a second, he didn’t care.
Mal shoved him out of the way and started pumping his chest with her hands. Evie and Jay watched for what felt like hours, but eventually, Mal turned to them and said, “I fixed him.”
“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” Jay said, pulling Carlos into a tight hug, pressing his ear to Carlos’s neck and using the beat of Carlos’s slowing pulse to steady himself.
For that moment, he couldn’t bring himself to feel self-conscious, or guilty, or afraid to touch Carlos like this. The only thing he had room for was overwhelming relief.
IV.
“You just jab it into his leg, like this,” said Ben, demonstrating with a small, plastic cylinder. “Trust me, it’s a lot more effective than tackling him.” Ben laughed, a bit awkwardly, the way he always did when things got tense.
Jay just stared. A sort of dull shock had settled over him when Ben led him into the Auradon Prep nurse’s office and starting showing him all the different types of medicine Carlos could take.
“And now you know what to do!” said Ben, slapping Jay on the shoulder. Jay pulled away.
The day Carlos almost died, Jay had been almost paralyzed with the knowledge of his own helplessness. Ben had never been helpless. He simply hadn’t cared until it was too late.
“So, maybe,” said Jay, “do you want to try to get some of this over to the Isle?”
“There’s actually already a shipment of medical supplies,” Ben said with a condescending patience that made Jay want to punch him. “It comes on the second Tuesday of—”
“I know about the medical supplies shipment,” said Jay. “I also know it’s one of the hardest ones to get at, because there’s drugs in it, so a lot of the heavy hitters go after it. So assuming whoever got it didn’t throw anything they couldn’t sell into the ocean, I could’ve maybe tried to steal whatever Carlos needed, or ask if they’d exchange it for a favor and hope they didn’t double-cross me or…or make me hurt someone I didn’t want to hurt, or something. If I knew what Carlos needed. Which I didn’t.”
Sticky-tacked to the dingy grey wall of the nurse’s office was a poster of King Beast, smiling and standing next to a food pyramid. “Stay healthy!” the poster exclaimed in bright green letters. “Eat your vegetables!” With a jolt, Jay realized that he’d seen the same poster on the island, stained and lopsided, but equally condescending, and equally useless.
“Oh,” Ben said softly.
“So, are you gonna fix it?” said Jay.
“I’ll try,” said Ben. “I’ll really try.”
“You’d better,” said Jay. He turned and left the room.
V.
When Jay got back to his dorm, Carlos was there, curled up on his bed.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” said Carlos.
Jay sank down onto the bed next to him. “It’s fine.”
Carlos chewed on his lip, the edges of his blue blanket twisted around his fingers. “I kind of liked it.”
“Huh?”
“I liked the way you’d act when I had a reaction,” said Carlos. “You’d, um, hold me. And stuff.”
Jay laughed. “Come on, those weren’t the only times I held you on the Isle.”
Carlos shifted. “Kinda, yeah.”
“And that’s why you didn’t tell me you got it treated?”
“Kinda. Yeah,” said Carlos, not meeting Jay’s eyes. “It was sort of insurance. In case you, I don’t know. Stopped.”
Jay put his arm around Carlos and pulled him close. “Stop what?” he said, then kissed Carlos on the forehead, once, twice, three times. “This?” He shoved Carlos down onto the bed and started kissing his cheeks, then worked his way down to his neck and collarbone.
“Jay, what’re you—” Carlos said, trying to sound indignant, but his big, goofy grin betrayed him. “You’re not mad that I lied?”
“Nah, that’s just smart,” said Jay, digging his fingers into Carlos’s hair. “But if you think I’m ever gonna stop doing this,” he kissed Carlos on the lips, long and hard, and Carlos made a small, pleased sound, “you’re a moron.”
He kissed Carlos on the chin, and Carlos laughed, and Jay felt the way he always felt when Carlos laughed, like everything was going right.