Chapter 28 Ch. 19.2
"She’s not just a random girl," Ethan said.
"You think you love her?" His father began laughing.
"I think I’m not you. And it's nothing about her or love... I don't even know her dad. We barely talk and—"
"And you're hoping taking this drug test would make her start talking to you?"
"You're reading too much meaning into nothing."
"Do whatever you want. Be a fool. I’m done protecting you."
"You were never protecting me. You were controlling me. And if anyone's the fool, it's you. What do you think happens if I don't take a test? They will come after you— you run a fucking Mafia ring. Drugs, weapons, prostitution, trafficking, kidnapping humans for blood. You still think I should not take the test?" He asked. "Go ahead. Tell me not to."
His father was silent.
"Didn't think so," Ethan scoffed, walking away. He didn’t slam the door, but he wanted to.
As he walked away from the house, he pulled out his phone, and opened his notes app.
To-do:
Find clean donor blood
Contact Medilab
Call Zara to see how she's doing (???)
He stared at the last item for a second. Then he deleted the question marks.
You should hate her Ethan. She's the reason this whole thing started, his senses screamed at him.
He looked at his notes app and sighed.
He didn't even have Zara's number to begin with. He opened his contact list and decided to dial his coach.
While the phone rang, he thought about a thousand things,— like the reason why he was calling Coach Santiago, how he was going to say, "hey coach, I'm calling because for some reason I have to urge to talk to Zara even though I don't know what the fuck go say."
His coach picked up on the third ring.
"Hey Ethan, it's pretty late. Are you... Okay?"
"Yeah, no... I'm good."
"Okay? To what do I owe the honours?"
"I just wanted to see how you're faring. Today was... Crazy."
"It was."
"I was thinking you could maybe call a press conference on my behalf," Ethan asked after a beat of silence. "We'll let them know I'm going to take a blood test. Everything will be very public."
"That's just ridiculous Ethan. You took drug tests before and after the goddamn nationals."
"Yeah, but this is a mess and that might be the only way to stop it."
"You know what? You're right— we'll do just that tomorrow."
"Thanks coach," he said with a sigh, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "And hey— uh... How's... Zara?"
"I am starting to get very curious as to whatever the hell is going on between you two," Coach Santiago said.
Ethan ended the call.
+++++
Ethan sat in the back of the hospital car, hoodie pulled low, sunglasses on, like that was going to do anything. There were reporters everywhere. Camped out on the front steps like it was the red carpet and he was about to win Best Actor in a Tragedy.
Coach had to push through first, waving a clipboard like it was some sort of weapon. "Excuse us. Move, please. Let the boy breathe."
"Is it true, Ethan? Are you on anything?"
"Did you lose the race on purpose?"
"Are you getting tested to cover something worse?"
He didn’t answer. He just kept walking with his head down until they were inside the building and the doors closed behind them.
The hospital smelled like bleach and rubber gloves. Somewhere nearby, a baby was crying. He tried not to think too hard about the smell of blood that floated faintly in the air. It was everywhere. In IVs, in small plastic tubes, inside people who walked past him like nothing was weird.
And yet? Nothing.
Nothing pulled at him. No hunger, no craving. His stomach didn’t even turn. It was like walking into a giant buffet and suddenly not liking food.
He rubbed his chest slowly, trying not to look too weird.
"You okay?" Coach asked, glancing over at him.
"Yeah," he said, nodding. "Just... tired."
They were called into a small lab room with a mint green curtain and a tiny metal table with gloves, syringes, and a few sticky pads that looked like oversized gum. The nurse walked in a second later, flipping through her clipboard.
"Ethan Moreau?"
"That’s me," he said, sitting down.
She looked up, paused, then smiled. "Oh. Wow. You’re much cuter in person."
Coach made a noise behind her.
She ignored him and sat beside Ethan, opening up a fresh syringe packet. "So. Blood draw. Nervous? You don't look like the type to be scared of needles."
"I'm not," he said, watching her tie the band around his arm. "I just don’t really like being stared at like a zoo animal."
She laughed a little. "Yeah, well, welcome to fame. You're like, everywhere right now. My little brother’s obsessed with your races."
"Tell him I said thanks."
She smiled again. "Cool."
He rolled up his sleeve and she glanced at him while tightening the tourniquet around his arm.
"So... are the rumors true?"
He gave her a look.
"About you being half-alien or something," she said with a grin. "Sorry, couldn’t help it."
He didn’t say anything, just watched as she cleaned the area with alcohol.
"Don’t worry. I’m just messing with you," she said, then leaned down to find a vein. "Wow, you’ve got nice veins. Every nurse dream," she whispered. Coach Santiago rolled his eyes.
The blood filled the tube easily. It was a little too dark but she gave it one weird look he shrugged.
"All done," she said, peeling off the band. "That was fast. You're like a pro. Maybe next time I can draw your blood without a crowd outside."
Ethan gave her a tight smile. "Yeah. Maybe."
The results came out about an hour later. He was sitting in the waiting room, trying to avoid looking at the old People magazines and the news on the TV, when Coach walked in with a paper in hand.
"You're clean," he said.
Ethan blinked. "Seriously? Nothing weird?"
"No drugs. No enhancers. Just a weirdly perfect blood profile and a resting heart rate that makes nurses think you're in a coma," he said with a smile. "And why did you say seriously? We're you scared of something being discovered?"
Ethan stood up slowly. "No, I was just scared someone might have been paid off to falsify something."
"Very valid fear," coach grinned.
"So what happens now?" Ethan asked.
"Now," Coach said, pointing his thumb toward the front entrance, "the media gets something new to chew on. Come on."
They walked outside and, as expected camera's and microphones were being shoved into their faces.
"Ethan, what did the test say?"
"Are you going to sue?"
"Was the rumor about steroids just a cover for something else?"
Coach Santiago held up the paper. "Negative. He’s clean. That’s the official result. So anyone who published otherwise might want to get their lawyers ready. You can't defame an athlete, almost ruin my career and think you'll go scot free. You'll definitely be hearing from the court very soon."
"Are we really suing?" Ethan whispered as he was guided into the car.
"Not sure yet, but I might be doing that. The school might as well."
"Well fuck," Ethan whispered underneath his breath. .
He didn't want more drama.