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Fourteen-year-old Evan Buckley squinted at the sunlight streaming through his bedroom blinds, and swatted clumsily at his screaming alarm until it was silenced. Groaning, he stretched his arms above his head, frowning at the faint twinge in his lower abdomen. Getting to his feet, Evan tiptoed down the hall to the bathroom, figuring that would solve the issue. When that didn’t fix things, he decided that perhaps breakfast would help. Heading to the kitchen, Evan went straight for the pantry, grabbing a package of his favorite strawberry poptarts, tearing the foil and sticking one in his mouth as he fetched the milk from the fridge, pouring himself a glass. He chewed slowly, but the sticky pastry felt like cement in his mouth and settled heavy in his stomach. If anything, eating made Evan feel worse, and for the first time in his life, he found himself not only not wanting a second poptart, but being unable to finish his first. He tried to at least finish his milk, but each swallow gave him an uneasy feeling and he feared the next wouldn’t stay down, so he dumped the rest down the drain and did his best to breathe through his mouth.
His parents had already been in the kitchen when he’d entered, eating their own breakfasts and sipping coffee in silence. Neither had acknowledged Evan’s presence.
“Mom, Dad?”
His father hardly glanced up from his newspaper, more intrigued by the crossword than by his own child, and his mother gave a disinterested hum.
“I don’t feel good, my stomach kinda hurts. Could I please stay home today?” Evan knew the answer already, but he figured he might as well at least try. The answer would most certainly be no, but they’d be even more pissed if he got sick at school. Besides, Evan still carried a small ball of hope in his parents that had him still vying for their attention and affection despite knowing it was futile.
His mother reached across the table, briefly pressing a cold hand to his forehead. “You don’t have a fever, you’re fine. Probably from all that junk you’ve been eating.” She eyed the poptart crumbs with disdain.
His father hadn’t looked up from his crossword, but he nodded in agreement with his wife and nudged the box of Special K in his direction. “Your mother’s right. You'll be fine after you eat an actual breakfast.”
Shoving the box aside, Evan stood from the table. “I’m not hungry.”
“Suit yourself kid, hurry up and get ready. I’m not giving you a ride if you miss the bus again, you’ll just have to walk and hope you aren’t late.”
Evan didn’t say another word, as he trudged to his room and changed into sweatpants and his favorite hoodie. He yearned to crawl back into bed and curl into a ball. His parents were unlikely to notice if he didn’t emerge from his room to leave, but they’d get a call from the school and discipline was one of the few areas of parenting they actually participated in. Evan didn’t want a sore butt on top of a bellyache, so he made his way out of the house and towards the bus stop. As he breathed in the cool morning air, he told himself it made him feel a bit better.
School lasted eight hours a day, but that day it felt endless. On account of some undiagnosed stuff going on, Evan had never been the best student, never had the attention span for it, but he still loved school. He loved learning new things, especially science, and although he was constantly being told off for too much chit-chat, most of the teachers loved his energy and inquisitive nature. Evan had never been less enthusiastic about school as he was that day. He sat hunched at his desk, one arm curled protectively around his stomach and the other propping up his head, and uttered less than a handful of words the entire day. His parents may not have shown much concern, but at least three of his teachers commented on his state, one of them kindly asking if he needed to take a trip to the nurses’ office, but Evan declined. His parents hated picking him up from school, and he felt way too run down to endure another lecture. He’d just have to stick it out until the end of the day.
He only just managed that. The noisy, bumpy bus ride home threatened to turn his stomach inside out, but Evan just made it to the steps of his house before he darted into the nearest restroom and choked up what little he’d had for breakfast and lunch. Today had been pizza day, another favorite, but just like with the poptarts, he’d only managed a small amount, the stringy melted cheese and chunky tomato sauce making his stomach roll ominously.
He sat on the bathroom floor for what could only have been ten minutes at the most, but felt more like an hour. His eyes were wet and bloodshot, and he breathed heavy and unsteady as he swiped at this dripping nose with bits of toilet paper. He’d only just managed to flush the toilet, very pointedly not looking at the contents so as to not further unsettle his stomach, when his mom entered the bathroom.
As usual, she didn’t knock (It’s nothing I haven’t seen, Evan!), and she was silent as she held out the thermometer for him to place beneath his tongue. She didn’t touch him either, and seemed almost disgusted with him. Minutes ticked by and Evan stood still, tip poking him in the gums but knowing better than to move it. When it finally beeped, his mother looked at the reading with a frown.
“Well, you’ve got a fever now. Guess one of us will have to call out tomorrow.” Her voice was all irritation and no concern. “Get to bed, Evan.”
Nothing sounded better at the moment, so he didn’t argue with her. Moments later, she entered his room, carelessly tossing a trash bag-lined wastepaper basket at the foot of his bed.
“No tv, no video games, no computer, and absolutely no sugary drinks. You’re to remain in this bed until your fever has broken and you can keep something down. I’ll be in my office, but please refrain from shouting for me to get you something every five minutes. You’re much too old for me to be waiting on your hand and foot.”
“It hurts,” Evan whimpered softly as he burrowed beneath his blanket. He knew better than to complain to either of his parents, but it slipped out before he could stop himself. As expected, his mother was unsympathetic.
“Evan, stop whining, you’re fine. It’s a little tummy bug, you’ll live.” She left his room without so much as tucking him in. As if waiting until they were alone, the landline on Evan’s bedside table started ringing soon after the door was shut.
Despite the pain in his abdomen being made worse with movement, he scrambled to answer it. It could only be one person on the other end of the line: Maddie. She’d gotten him the phone when she’d moved out of the house and in with her good-for-nothing boyfriend, Doug. She hadn’t been able to afford to get him a cell phone, but just being able to hear her voice was so much better than communicating with her over AIM.
Maddie’s voice was cheerful. “Hey Evan, I’ve just made it out of the longest lab and I’m starving. Want me to pick you up and take us to get some ice cream?”
As much as Evan wanted Maddie right now, the thought of eating anything, even ice cream, had him eying the trash can. “No thanks, Maddie. Not feeling up for ice cream.”
“Evan Buckley, not up for ice cream?” Maddie let out a fake gasp. “Wait, you aren’t sick are you?”
Evan’s parents never believed him unless he was actively vomiting in front of him, and yet all Maddie needed to hear was his voice over the phone to know something was wrong.
“A bit,” he admitted. “I’ve got a fever and I threw up.”
“Need me to come over?” Evan could already hear the click of Maddie turning the key in the ignition and the hum of her Jeep’s engine starting.
“Please,” At fourteen, Evan didn’t like to admit when he was in pain or to appear weak, but when it came to Maddie, he felt no need to put up such a front.
“I’ll be over in fifteen.”
Placing the phone back, he sank into his pillows and allowed himself to drift, but he hadn’t quite fallen asleep when there was a knock at the door. Unlike his mother, Maddie waited for Evan to say it was okay before she came in. He scooted aside to make room for her, and immediately he was bombarded with questions.
“How long has this been going on?”
“Since this morning.”
“Have you eaten anything?”
“Not really. I think I threw it all up.”
“How high’s your fever?”
“I dunno, Mom didn’t show me the reading. But she didn’t seem too concerned.”
“When is she ever? Did she give you anything?”
“Nope, but I’m too nauseous for that anyway.”
“Here, try this. Don’t tell Mom.” Maddie reached down and handed him a small, sweating can of Sprite from her backpack. As always, she cracked it open first, even though Evan hadn’t needed help opening a can of soda in a very long time. He took a small, cautious sip and gave her a nod of gratitude. The cold drink was soothing on his battered throat, but it felt like ice in his stomach and he set it aside.
“Any other symptoms? Constipation, diarrhea, gas?”
“Maddie!”
“Just asking, Evan. It’s just us here, anyway. And they are going to ask you the exact same things if I end up having to take you in.”
“That’s not necessary. I just need to lay off the sugar and sleep it off.”
“Is that what Mom and Dad told you?” Maddie let out an angry scoff as she once again dug in her backpack, this time withdrawing a pink stethoscope. “At least let me take a look. We did the abdomen last week in Health Assessment and I aced my check-off. Pharm was another story, the less said about that the better.”
Evan nodded and leaned back, lifting the bottom of his shirt and trying not to squirm at the cold metal on his bare skin.
“Bowel sounds normal and present in all four quadrants.”
“Wait, you can hear that?” Evan went pink. “Seems kinda personal.”
Maddie grinned devilishly. “Sure can, I can hear all your little toots. I can also hear it telling me that you were totally the one that got into my halloween candy that one time.”
“Did not!”
“Evan, you were covered almost head to toe in chocolate. And you were even a worse liar at age four.”
Evan laughed at the memory, but gasped when it sent a jolt of pain shooting through his belly. “Ouch.”
“Does that hurt? Here, let me have a feel.” Maddie's hands were much warmer than her stethoscope, and she was gentle as she prodded the flesh of his stomach in a clockwise motion. When she got to around his belly button, and a bit to the right, Evan flinched, withdrawing from her touch with a pained grunt.
“Ow, ow, ow. That’s the spot.”
Maddie frowned. “It’s mostly in the middle, and you don’t feel too warm, but we need to keep an eye on this. It could be your appendix. I’d love to stay but Doug wants me home for dinner.”
Evan made a face at his name. “Doug is way too controlling, Maddie. What do you mean he can’t go one night without you? Hasn’t he got any of his own friends?”
They’d had this conversation countless times, but the answer was still the same. “He’s just a bit on the clingy side, it's sweet. Now Evan, don’t hesitate to call me if things get worse. I don’t care how late it is, I’ll be there. I’ll always be there.”
Maddie stopped and knelt to hug him, and Evan hugged her back tightly. He missed her living with him, missed the smell of her shampoo and how she always made the best waffles and how she’d still tell him a story at night, even though he was too old to feel comfortable asking for one.
The room felt empty when she left, and the pit in his stomach grew until he was lunging for the trash can, half-sobbing, half-retching.
Evan spent the rest of the day in bed. Knowing Maddie would want him to stay hydrated, he gradually managed to finish the Sprite and then grabbed a Gatorade. Walking hurt, but he knew better than to ask his parents to bring him anything. Changing the trash bag each time he was sick was also torture, but his mother hated dealing with that kind of thing. Him and Maddie were the ones in charge of changing his wet sheets when he was younger, and whenever he’d have an accident, she’d toss him in the bathroom and tell him to sort himself out.
The good thing about having parents that didn’t care is that Evan was mostly left to his own devices. Nobody kept waking him to take his temperature and force him to take gross medicine. Nobody was pushing fluids on him. And nobody insisted he at least try and have some dinner. Evan went to sleep for the night at around five or six, and nobody commented on it. Evan wasn’t sure if they even knew he was alive, or if they even cared.
The room was dim when he woke, moonlight streaming through his blinds and faintly illuminating his bedside table. Without thinking, he was grabbing his phone. The only thought he had was I want Maddie.
Dialing Maddie’s number was as second nature as writing his name, but halfway through he realized why he’d woken in the first place: his stomach was on fire.
Getting to his feet on shaky legs, Evan was trembling head to toe as he hugged his phone to his chest. It felt as though he’d been stabbed and the nausea was overwhelming. Walking down the hall to the bathroom felt like navigating a maze, and his sole thought was that he could not puke on the floor. His mother would be furious.
His body had other plans and soon Evan was kneeling in a pool of sick, the mess coating him and the ugly carpet and after catching his breath, he crawled the rest of the way, shuddering as he rested his burning forehead on the cold porcelain.
Maddie. I just want Maddie. I need Maddie.
He had just finished dialing her number when another gag tore out of him. Pain exploded in his right side and Evan couldn’t help but scream.
At the same time Maddie picked up, her soft voice crackling over the speaker, the bathroom light flicked on and both of Evan’s parents stood behind him, looking exhausted and furious.
“Evan, it is three in the morning! You mother and I have work tomorrow! There is no reason for you to be making such a racket!”
“Evan?” Maddie repeated, her voice was faint. “What’s going on?”
His mother scoffed. “What’s going on is Evan woke the whole house up, screaming like the house is on fire and made a big mess in the hallway. And for some reason, he thinks now is an appropriate time to be making phone calls. I’m sorry Maddie, go back to sleep.”
Maddie seemed to act as though she hadn’t heard her mother. “It’s worse, isn’t it? Do I need to come and get you?”
Evan was past the point of speaking, he could only let out a sob from where he lay on the bathroom floor.
“Evan, give me that!” His mother snatched the phone from his clammy hands. “Quit laying on the floor like some animal, that’s disgusting. You are going to get up and clean that mess you made and your father and I are going back to bed.” Her thumb moved to click the off button, but Maddie interrupted.
“Mom, he needs a hospital. Either one of us takes him or I’m sending over an ambulance.”
His father sighed. “Maddie, you’ve been in nursing school for one month. You have no idea what you are talking about. You don’t know how to take care of a sick kid.”
“Neither do you!”
Evan was too out of it to see how their faces blanched at that remark. Maddie had snapped at them many times, she was always standing up for him, but this comment must have gone too far, must have really hit a nerve.
“Fine, you can come over and take him to the ER. I’ve got work in the morning and I’m not wasting time on this.” His mother handed the phone back to Evan and the two returned to their room, leaving him alone.
“Evan honey, stay with me. I’m driving as fast as I can and I’ll be here soon.” Her voice was the only thing tethering him to consciousness, grounding him in a world of pain.