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“Everything alright, kiddo?”
Ezra nodded at his dad without turning toward him, wanting to avoid the weary look in his eyes and the gray tinge to his skin. He couldn’t have looked much better, which was why he’d also been avoiding looking at himself in the mirror. The few times he’d left his mother’s bedside to use the bathroom or go for a walk down to the hospital cafeteria at his father’s suggestion, he’d avoided every reflective surface he passed. He was basically a carbon copy of his father under normal circumstances, so he knew what exhaustion and grief looked like and he didn’t have any desire to inspect it more closely. He turned his head just a fraction of an inch more, trying to unhear his dad’s pained voice.
The sounds of his mother’s labored breathing and the rhythmic beeping of the monitors attached to her were comforting and terrifying at the same time. He didn’t know where to look or what to do with his hands or his sadness or his anger.
“Hey bud, you should go eat,” his father said, following his words with a comforting hand on Ezra’s forearm.
“Not hungry,” he muttered. His eyes filled with tears and he wiped them away with his fist. He didn’t know why he was crying right now, but ever since his mom had been admitted to the hospital, he’d been tearing up near constantly.
“You need to eat. Your mother would never forgive me if I let you waste away too.”
That last word fell from his father’s lips as a strangled cry and in the end that was what drove Ezra from his mother’s room; not his own non-existent hunger. He needed to get far away from that sound. He wanted to scrub his brain with bleach and wipe it from his memory. But he couldn’t. So he practically ran down the hall. He pressed the button to call the elevator, but he was too restless to wait and pushed open the doors to the stairwell. He ran down three flights in a heartbeat, and it still wasn’t fast enough or far enough away from that memory of his dad’s voice. On the first floor, he considered running out into the night, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t stray too far. Just in case. He’d never forgive himself.
So he turned to his right and headed to the cafeteria like his father suggested. He wasn’t hungry, but he didn’t have anywhere else to go. There was only one place he wanted to be, and he felt selfish for even thinking it.
He walked down the hallway in a daze, not really seeing anyone he passed. He grabbed a small fruit salad from the ice well by the cashier just because. He paid for it by simply pushing all the money in his pocket toward the cashier. He was thankful when she sifted through the bills and coins, extracting what she needed and pushed the rest back to him.
He mumbled something that maybe sounded like thank you and walked away. He found a table near the back of the cafeteria, far away from everyone else, and sat heavily in an old, scratched plastic chair. He didn’t touch his fruit. He still wasn’t hungry.
“Anybody sitting here?”
Ezra startled and looked up. He blinked rapidly to clear his vision, but he still didn’t believe what he saw. Candace was smiling down at him, Miles and Mei at her side.
“What...” he couldn’t finish the question. He couldn’t think.
“Your dad thought you could use some company,” she said.
“And we’re your best friends,” Mei added.
“Actually, I’m your best friend,” Miles corrected. “They’re just your regular friends.”
Ezra noticed Mei roll her eyes in his peripheral vision, but he never took his eyes off Candace. “You’re here?” he croaked.
She smiled as she slid into the seat next to him. “Of course I’m here, Ezra. Where else would I be?”