Chapter 179: Chapter Fifty-Three-1

Chapter Fifty-Three I don't really remember what happens after that. After I get a call from Mom's doctor. I don't even remember the actual conversation. But I do know the scared, anxious feeling I get in the pit of my stomach. I do know I call a cab and soon am standing outside in the middle of the night in November. "Ivory, please, come inside," Daniel says, rubbing my arms up and down. "You don't even have a jacket or your passport or anything. You haven't even told me what's wrong." "I-I have to go. I have to go now." My teeth chatter as I speak and there is nobody else outside, no car nor person but I have to go. It feels as if my throat is clogged up and I have no energy to speak, just to worry and pray everything will be all right. Daniel rubs his eyes, groggy. He woke up when I was bolting out the door after making my cab phone call. I probably woke up his parents and Devon as well since I was not quiet at all. "Can we please talk about this first? Making rash decisions won't help anyone." "My mother," I finally say, "she's in trouble. The doctors—they say something's wrong. She's having a brain aneurysm." His eyes widen and his mouth wavers like he doesn't know how to react or what to say. "I'm going with you," he announces. "And that's final." He disappears into the house for five minutes. I feel numb and like the world around me is disconnected from reality. This cannot be happening. My mind is on the edge of dipping into the dark side where my terrible thoughts take over. They create me before I can create them, like little demons that possess my head into making horrible choices. When Daniel returns, he has our bags—we never really unpacked—and jackets, along with his little brother who looks angry and sleepy. Daniel wraps my jacket around my shoulder and I shrug it on, my eyes cast off staring into nothing. "If there's one thing my brother can do, it's speed," Daniel says as he opens the backseat door for me. I get in and he slides in after me, throwing our bags carelessly on the floor of the car. Devon gets in rubbing his eyes and starts the engine. Daniel puts on my seatbelt and then holds my hand as a thousand thoughts whirl around my head. His hands are warm despite the temperature. The car ride is silent. There's really nothing to be said in situations like this. When something sad or urgent is happening, it's like you have to shut off who you are for a second. You're in this strange mode where you're trying to uphold the peace of the situation, trying to survive and hold on to yourself and others. You can't attempt to make conversation or joke around. It's just meant to be a quiet moment. True to his word, Devon speeds, somehow making it past every stoplight a second before they turn red. There are a few cars out in the city. Streets and highways later, Devon pulls up to the curb near South Station. Daniel tells me there's no guarantees to flights and how it'll be a hassle with security checks and wait time, so trains are our prime transportation. The two brothers talk as Daniel leans in the driver's window and Devon whispers back with one arm slung out the window. They nod a lot and do a weird handshake clasp before Daniel appears by my side, one arm on my back and the other carrying our luggage. Devon zooms away just as the doors close behind us. Inside, Daniel seats me down in a chair, handing me hot chocolate from Dunkin Donuts. I numbly take it and sip even though it burns. The sting wakes me up, giving me some feeling. What does this mean? I know people can survive aneurysms but more times than not they're different whether in personality or physical attributes. Sometimes, they don't even make it. My mother's not that old—I don't understand. Nothing makes sense. What if she— "Ivory," Daniel calls, pulling me out of my thoughts. He kneels down in front of me so we're eye-to-eye. "The next bus is leaving in fifteen minutes and we'll get there around seven in the morning or eight. I've left a text for my parents and I've already bought us tickets. Don't worry about anything. I'll take care of it." He leans in, tucking my head closer and gives me a forehead kiss. "I got you. It'll be fine." I don't know if it's because he's so nice to me or if it's reassuring hearing someone else saying it'll be fine, but tears start to flow down my cheeks and my body starts racking in silent sobs. "Daniel," I choke out, my voice breaking even when I say one word. He clenches his teeth and his eyes look sad as if he can't stand looking at me like this. He pulls me back to him and tucks my head between the crook of his neck and shoulder. His fingers run up and down my hair soothingly. "Shh," he murmurs, "you're safe. You're okay and everything will be too. I won't let you suffer alone." I sit there, my hands holding the hot chocolate between my knees. Daniel surrounds me, engulfing me in a hug and whispering sweet things in my ear until my tears dry. We stay like that for ten more minutes before he kisses me on the forehead again and says we have to go. He helps the workers put our bags into the side of the bus before taking my hand and leading me on the bus. I sit by the window and he follows me, putting my seatbelt on for me once more. Daniel looks at me and then pats his shoulder. "You can sleep on me. You'll need the rest to be strong for whatever is awaiting for you in New York. And I'll be right there like I am right now. So, lean on me and get some rest. I'll wake you when we're close." I press my lips together because what in the world did I do to deserve a perfect guy like him? I might cry just from the unconditional support he gives me. I almost blurt out three words too quickly, so instead, I whisper "Thank you" and snuggle into his arm, intertwining our fingers. He kisses my forehead once more and I know he can feel what I'm trying to say and that right now, this is enough. When I am shaken awake, the sky is now a light blue, the sun waking up around the same time I do. I lift my head and am immediately embarrassed when I see a bit of drool on Daniel's shoulder. He smiles as if it was yesterday's news and whispers, "We're about five to ten minutes away from stopping. We're in Harlem right now." "Sorry about the drool," I apologize. My voice comes easily now and the panic has subsided. Sleeping is a nice getaway and makes you forget the bad things...for a while anyway. "No worries," he replies, running a hand through his hair. He reaches into his backpack, his carry on item. Daniel pulls out his glasses, rubbing his eyes before he puts them on. "You okay?"