I don’t remember the drive home really. I do remember not letting Izzy’s hand go once.

When we made it back to my apartment, she followed me inside, went into my room, got a bag and started packing things.

“What’re you doing?” I asked in a haze.

“You’re not staying here. You’re gonna stay with Corey and me for a while.”

I wrinkled my brow not fully comprehending what she said and just shrugged. I guess she’d gotten everything because the next thing I knew, I was in her car and she was driving.

I stared out the passenger window the whole way thinking the city lights looked so much prettier when they were blurred by tears. We pulled into the parking garage across from Premiere on Pine then getting my bag from the back, Izzy walked to my side and opened the door, taking my hand and leading me to the apartment building. We went up to the twenty-fifth floor and into Corey’s apartment. Everything was going in slow motion, like when you’re sick and have a fever.

“Corey’s asleep,” she whispered as she tugged on my hand and took me to the second of two guest bedrooms that had en suites.

She put my bag in a chair then hugged me hard.

“I’m so sorry, Jilly Bean.”

I hugged her back. I think. My entire body was still numb, so I could’ve just stood there like a rag doll. She sat me on the bed and unzipped my hoodie, pulling it off me. Then she took my sneakers off then hand on my elbow, had me stand up. She jerked back the covers and sat me down again and started looking through my hoodie pocket as I watched.

“I need your phone,” she explained and pulling it out, told me, “I’m gonna take this with me tonight, okay?”

I nodded as she leaned down and turned on the bedside lamp. Then she helped me lie down and covered me as I immediately curled into a tight ball. She then turned off the room light and walked to the other side of the bed and crawled in behind me and held me.

“You’re gonna be okay, JB. You’re strong. You knew something was wrong and I didn’t listen. But it’s gonna be all right now, okay?”

I nodded.

And that’s the last thing I remember until the next morning when the sun shining brightly against the cream curtains woke me making me squint. I turned away and curled into a ball again, clenching my eyes shut.

“Hey,” Izzy called from the doorway.

I opened one eye then shut it.

“Are you hungry?” she asked.

I shook my head, keeping my eyes closed.

Then something amazing happened. The room got dark. I peeked out of one eye again and saw her drawing darker curtains closed over the cream ones.

“There. That’s better, huh?” she claimed.

I nodded.

She sat on the bed next to me. “Jilly? I promise it’s gonna be okay. Do you believe me?”

I shook my head. I didn’t think I’d ever been in so much pain before. I felt like I’d been run over by a freaking train. And I felt nothing would ever be okay again.

“You go back to sleep and I’ll check on you in a bit, okay?”

I nodded and was out again.

~*~*~*~*~

Three hours or three days later, who knew, Izzy checked on me again.

“I brought you some chicken broth,” she said, coming in and placing a tray on the night stand.

I shook my head and turned away, falling back to sleep.

~*~*~*~*~

The next morning or two hundred years later, whichever, she tried again.

“Jilly, I’ve got a bowl of corn flakes and a carafe of milk. I’m gonna leave them on the nightstand. You take your time waking up then eat, okay?”

I nodded and turned away and fell asleep.

~*~*~*~*~

She came back later, and I didn’t even try to figure the timeline of it. Thirty minutes or thirty years. What the fuck did it matter.

“You didn’t touch your corn flakes, honey. You’re gonna have to eat something, JB.”

I turned over and went back to sleep.

~*~*~*~*~

“Jillian?” I heard a deep voice call.

“Mmm?” I groaned from under my pillow.

“You want me to beat the shit out of him?” Corey asked.

I stuck a thumbs up out from under the covers and slept again.

~*~*~*~*~

“JB,” Izzy whispered.

I opened an eye to see her holding my phone but covering the mouthpiece with her hand then I closed my eye.

“Your mom’s on the phone. What do I tell her?”

I wanted to laugh because there were lots of things I’d like her to tell her. But all I could do was turn over and fall back asleep.

~*~*~*~*~

“Okay, this has been enough,” I heard from the bottom of the well I was standing in. “It’s Thursday. You’ve been out since Monday night. It’s time to get up!”

The room was bright again and I groaned. “Shut the curtains.”

I heard them closing which was good.

“Love you, Iz,” I mumbled and went back to sleep.

~*~*~*~*~

“Yes. No. No fucking way. Uh uh,” I heard and slowly lifted an eyelid to see Izzy pacing the room then closed it and turned over. “Good luck getting past the security guard.” I could hear her walking. “I don’t give a shit if you’re the goddamn King of fucking Siam, you’re not coming in here…I said no. No!”

She sat on the side of the bed and I heard her toss a phone onto the nightstand as she let out a loud groan then mutter, “Asshole.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to call your best friend,” I rasped, my throat dry as the Sahara.

“Look over here,” she ordered.

I turned slowly to see her looking worriedly at me. “At least sit up and drink some water.”

I hated to see her that way, so I did what she said even though every muscle in my body cried out in pain. But I did it, sitting against the cushioned headboard and took the bottle of water she offered me, and after taking a tentative first sip, I chugged the rest.

“Good,” she said, the concern on her face assuaging just a bit. “Are you hungry?”

Focusing on my stomach area and assessing whether I was hungry or not, I decided I wasn’t and shook my head.

“Dammit, Jilly Bean. You need to eat something.”

“Can I,” I started to say and choked because my throat felt raw. When I finished coughing, I tried again. “Can I get an egg salad sandwich? From Starbucks. And a caramel Frappuccino?”

She started crying. “Of course, you can. I’ll call down and have someone bring it up.”

“Don’t cry,” I whispered.

She wiped her cheek. “These are happy tears. I was so worried about you.”

I squeezed her hand weakly. “Sorry.”

She chuckled then sniffled. “Don’t be sorry. I’m just glad you’re hungry.”

“Always so easy to please,” I murmured making her laugh. I waited until she ended the call downstairs then asked, “Who was on the phone before?”

I saw her eyes go hard.

“Oh.”

She frowned. “I won’t interfere. What you do is up to you. But I want you to know I want to slit his throat and reach in and pull his tongue out.”

“That’s called a Columbian necktie,” I explained with a raspy voice. “Pablo Escobar, Columbian drug lord, had his men do them as an intimidation tactic. I think it worked.”

The doorbell rang. “Your food is here. I’ll be right back.”

I looked down at myself, still in my “May the Forest Be with You” t-shirt but I’d shed my jeans somewhere along the way. I really needed a shower. And to brush my teeth. Ick.

“Here you go,” she said coming back into the room.

“I need to brush my teeth first.”

I flipped the covers off my legs and twisted putting my feet on the floor. When I hesitated, she put a hand under my elbow and helped me up. God. I felt so weak. She walked me into the bathroom that had all my things on the counter just like I had them at my apartment.

“Thanks,” I turned and said to her, giving her a small smile.

I used the bathroom, brushed my teeth then went back to sit on the bed and scarfed down the sandwich, taking intermittent sips of the frappe. Best meal ever.

“I called Alicia and let her know you wouldn’t be in this week,” Izzy told me as I drank. “I told your mom you weren’t feeling well but you’d call her as soon as you felt better.” Her face went hard. “Then the asshole called and I told him he couldn’t see you. But like I said, it’s up to you.”

I had no desire to see Zane Powers ever again.

As far as I was concerned, he was dead to me.

Which I told Izzy and she nodded saying she understood.

When I was sure I’d keep the sandwich down, I got some clothes out and took an almost hour-long shower which felt amazing. After dressing, I joined Izzy in the living room.

“I don’t know about you, but I think a Dick Van Dyke marathon is in order along with copious amounts of Half Baked. What do you say?”

I nodded. “I’m totally in.”

I must’ve fallen asleep halfway through season one because I woke up in the middle of the night still on the couch and saw that Izzy had covered me with a soft, fuzzy blanket. I got up and made my way to the guest room bed, which now had fresh sheets, and snuggled in. I dreamed that my hair was blue but I wanted it pink, and no matter what I did, it stayed blue. I was then on Fifth Avenue in New York City trying to find someone to fix my hair, going inside building after building, but every time I entered one, the people ignored me and turned their backs, but I could hear them mumbling, “He’s using you, he’s using you.” When I ran out of the last store, I was suddenly in a car with Izzy and we were being shot at. We screamed just before I crashed into a wall.

I woke up crying.