Of course my next call was with John, who I hadn’t seen since I had ended up in Flint’s room. We were fast asleep, as people are wont to be at four a.m. when tones went out. I leapt out of bed, adrenaline coursing through my brain. I felt electric, like I could run a marathon or a country. John got out of bed, without as much energy as I had demonstrated. He was calm and used to calls at odd hours. By the time we got to the car, the adrenaline had worn off and I was ready for sleep again.

The radio said that it was a concussion call. I quickly ran over the things that I thought I should do for a concussion call. Check for neurological deficits, rapid trauma exam for any other problems, find out how much pain she is in and probably call an ambulance. If she was so bothered by her concussion that she was calling for help at four am, it probably woke her up. And if it woke her up, it was bad.

“Anything I should know about concussion calls before I go on scene?” I said.

He shook his head. “Just make sure she’s okay.”

Walking down the hall, we watched the room numbers to make sure we hadn’t passed it. When we did, it was clear we had found the patient. She was seated outside of her room and she was holding her head like it might fall off. I introduced myself and we got down to business.

“We were practicing for the sorority-fraternity musical. During one of the jumps, my partner lost his grip and I fell. I hit my head really badly.”

I asked her how long ago that had occurred, if she could rate the pain on a scale of one to ten and asked John if he could hold her head steady in c-spine.

“It was a two days ago. It’s just been getting worse since then. I would say it’s a seven?”

I grimaced. That was bad. The people who said ten were usually just pain intolerant and trying to make you think that the pain was really bad. People who said five were usually just uncomfortable. But seven was a normal person’s way of saying it hurt like hell. We checked and released c-spine after going through the rule out questions.

“We’re going to need an ambulance,” I said. “Is it okay if I call an ambulance for you? I think you’re going to need to get this checked out at the hospital.”

She moved her head up, and then down, which seemed like a lot of effort for her. “I just want them to make it stop hurting.”

I completely understood.

We got her into an ambulance and sent her to the hospital with the paramedics. She was distraught that she might miss her first class but happy that they were finally going to do something about her head.

As we packed up our bags and left the scene, John leaned down and whispered, “She’s Carl’s dance partner.”

I looked up at him. “Carl dropped her on her head?”

John shook his head. “I’m going to give him so much hell for this. He had no idea how badly he hurt her.”

I tried to smile in acknowledgment but I hadn’t known what to do or think around Carl since I had met him. John was sure that he was the best thing since sliced bread but he reminded me of my father, full of charisma until he got angry. John and Carl had known each other for years. I had known Carl for months. It was a different perspective.

When we were back at the office, John led me over to the couch I had been sleeping on. He sat me down and held my hand. “It seems like we haven’t seen each other in a while.”

I pulled the blanket around me and let go of his hand. Five thirty in the morning was not when I wanted to have this conversation. The air conditioning was releasing water into the air and my stomach was sick, the way it always felt when I woke up too early and didn’t eat. John looked at me with wide eyes. I wasn’t sure what to say.

“I’ve been dealing with a lot,” I said.

“Did I do something wrong?” he said.

I shook my head, both to answer his question and clear my fog filled brain. “My life has been spiraling out of control. I didn’t want to bring you down with me. Truth be told, I didn’t have the time to think too hard about it.”

He took my hand again, caressing my knuckles and the back of my hand. You can tell me, his touch seemed to be saying.

Where do I start? I thought. I lost my best friend but then when I apologized, he decided to kiss me. I’m not advancing in EMS. No one in EMS wants to spend time with me because of the rumors Sandy is spreading behind my back. My parents beat me when I don’t get good grades.

“I’m failing out of school,” I said.

He was calm. “How bad?”

It was worse than a monsoon or a hurricane or my brother rubbing his nails against the chalkboard. It was bad because I couldn’t do anything about it. I had caught on too late, done too little.

“I think they’re going to put me on probation,” I said.

“Okay, we’ve had this happen before. All you have to do is focus all your energy on school next semester and you’ll be fine. The University has strict guidelines but they understand how hard it is. They’ll help.”

“But next semester is when I have to rank up. If I don’t, I’ll get kicked out of EMS.”

“If you don’t get your grades up, you’ll be kicked out of college.”

I swallowed his dose of reality. It stuck in my throat and I began to cough. If I don’t stay on this path, my family will kick me around forever. And John didn’t understand. He made friends within seconds of walking in the door of a party. I bet his family was a walk around the neighborhood, short and easy to understand. He was always exciting, always funny. You always wanted to see what he would do next. Being near him was exhilarating. Trying to be him was exhausting.

It’s more than that, I wanted to say but my words couldn’t fit past the reality I had swallowed. It was my parents and Ruby and Flint. I didn’t know how to deal with this and I never had.

John brought me into his arms for a hug. I rested my head on his chest and relaxed. I waited for the release, for the tears to come and wash some of my worry away, but they had dried up. I let the hug wash its healing powers over me.

“Do you want to have dinner this Friday?” he said into my hair.

“Were you planning on taking it away?” I said, smiling.

He looked at me to figure out if I was joking. “No, like…oh.” He laughed. “Would you like to have dinner with me this Friday? Was that better?”

I laughed. I had hoped my humor would get me through but I could tell it was weakening.

I lay down. He pulled the covers over my shoulders and kissed my forehead. I smiled; it was like a family sitcom. Good night, John. Good night, Andi. John made it to his bed and collapsed. In record time, 3.4 seconds, he was asleep and snoring. I stayed awake, thinking, which was something I couldn’t seem to pull the plug on. Maybe I should get a tutor. These concepts seemed designed specifically to confuse me. But my pride reared her perfectly primped head and shut the idea down. How am I going to do this then? I asked her. She didn’t really care but tutors were for people who aren’t smart. We were smart so we didn’t need tutors, she said.

Two hours later, Sandy woke me up by turning on all the lights in the office and pressing the ON button on the vacuum cleaner. Because eight in the morning is the perfect time for cleaning an office that hasn’t been cleaned in months. John remained asleep. He could sleep through a war, which is what I was ready to start. I closed the door, turned the lights back off and tried to ignore the aggressive whirring coming from the other room. I put a pillow over my head but her presence was infuriating. I couldn’t handle the stupidity of what was happening around me, so I lifted the side of the blanket canopy John had created and woke him up.

“I’m going off duty,” I said. “Sandy’s cleaning.”

“Aw, hell,” he said. “I’ll see you Friday.”

I replaced the canopy blanket. I should have made myself a cave, I thought.