"Are you okay?" My question is met with dead silence.
I try calling back but it goes straight to voicemail. What could she be doing at the cemetery in this rain? For the short time I've known Zuri, she's never sounded this scared. Worry knots in my stomach and before I know it, I'm sprinting out of the door.
Madison left with my car and because of the heavy downpour, there's barely any cab in sight. Which leaves one option; running. Something I don't have a problem with. I exercise for a living; this should be a piece of cake.
Except it's not. Running in the rain is like running backwards. Still, I sprint as though my life depends on it. Zuri's probably does. The sound of my heart pounding is so loud I can hear it in my ears. I don't let the foggy weather deter me from my mission. She's already doing so much for me. The least I could do is run to her rescue.
By the time I get to the cemetery, I'm soaked to the core and my breathing comes out ragged. My mouth and nose have a kindred task.
I scan the area for her but it's hard when the surrounding is clouded by mist. I resort to shouting her name but no answer comes. A figure crouched by the wheel of a car catches my sight. From the signature bun hairstyle, it's easy to make out that it's Zuri.
I jog to her. Not only is she soaked but she's also visibly trembling. Her right hand is clutching her chest as though she's having a heart attack, her mouth wide open, gasping for air.
I jump into action because this is clearly not a result of the cold alone. Zuri is hyperventilating and if I don't act soon, she might pass out.
I squat down next to her and take her shaking hands in mine. "Hey, hey shh. It's me, Darelle. Nothing's gonna hurt you. I'm here. Try to breathe, princess." I soothe.
Zuri is so spaced out that she doesn't register my voice. Even with the heavy rain, I can easily distinguish the tears rolling down her cheeks.
God, how long has she been in this state?
I'm not new to the panic attack concept. I know exactly what I have to do. Regulate her heart palpitations and the rapid breathing and snap her out of the spiraling thoughts.
"Look at me, Zuri." Her teary eyes catch my reassuring ones. "Focus on my voice."
"Breathe through your nose." She does as I mentally count the four seconds. "You're doing great Princess. Now hold your breath until I tell you to stop." I count the seven seconds. "Finally, breathe out via pursed lips slowly." I count the final eight seconds, exhaling together with her.
For a technique I read about in a magazine, I'm surprised when it works. Her breathing returns to its normal state. "You did so well Zuri. I'm proud of you." I use my thumb to wipe away her tears mixed with rain water.
"You came." Zuri murmurs, wistfully. Before I can reply, she dives into my chest, her tiny hands wrapping tightly around me. She sighs softly when I reciprocate the hug with just as much force. I feel her spiraling heartbeat slowly return to its normalcy. Raw, quiet sobs follow shortly after. And fuck if they don't tear through my heart.
I slowly rub my hand across her soaked spine. "You called." My answer intensifies her cries. "Shh, princess. You're safe." I pacify.
I got to pull away but her grip tautens. "Princess, I have to get you home before you catch a cold." I whisper in her ear.
She finally disengages but when she tries to stand up, she stumbles. I swiftly sweep her into my arms and the only reaction she offers me is a sad smile. The rain descends heavily on us as I bring her to the passenger seat.
After making sure I've buckled Zuri in, I round back to the driver's seat. She barely looks at me as I slip next to her. Her bloodshot eyes suddenly finding something to intently stare at through the foggy window. She looks spent; borderline exhausted. Spotting the growing goosebumps on her skin, I switch on the heat. And what irks me the most is I don't know how to help her.
"Are you okay?" I ask to ease the awkward silence.
"Did Kira tell you to come pick me up?" Her words come out weak.
"You called me."
Her eyebrows crease in confusion. "No I didn't." She takes her phone to confirm. "Oh, I must have clicked on your name instead of hers." She realizes.
"It's okay. Happy to help." I squeeze her drenched thigh in reassurance. In the grand scheme of things, I'll never be able to reciprocate the help she's given me.
"What about your car?" Trust Zuri to worry about other people instead of herself.
"I ran." I reply, unruffled.
An O shaped mouth combined with a small, "Oh." are the only reactions I get from Zuri.
In no time, I'm parking in her apartment basement. I don't know if balls catch cold but if they do then mine are probably a few degrees shy from ice.
This time, Zuri's equilibrium is more stable hence no need for me to carry her. Not that I'm complaining.
Zuri's room is the same color as the most of the house. Polished dark grey walls, a sleigh bed perfectly made. Large windows that give a panoramic view of the city. An old copy of Wuthering heights sits on her nightstand along with a picture of her and the woman I believe to be her mom. Though the room lacks paintings or stickers, it's still a reflection of who she is; tough on the outside but if you really get to know her, she's the sweetest and kindest person alive.
Apparently, I can now read people's personalities from a few short encounters. Fuck me.
"I'll see if I can get some big pajamas for you." I'm not used to the sadness in her voice, except maybe for that one time we met at the bridge. I wish I could pull her from whatever daze she's in and bring the light back to her beautiful features.
The pajamas are a little short considering our height difference but I dare not complain. She has enough problems for me to add my baseless ones on top.
I settle on the dark grey couch in her room.
"You know you don't have to stay," She expresses weakly, walking into the room with my dry clothes.
"Actually, I was thinking I could stay. You know just in case you have another recurrence."
"I won't." I'm not sure if the sentence is meant to persuade me or her.
"I insist." I press. Judging from how severe her hyperventilation is, she is more in danger when alone. It's clear she's grieving. Grief is a cancer that should never find you alone.
"Will that be comfortable enough for you?"
I take in the two seater couch and then my height. Nothing about this night will be comfortable. Still I say, "I'll manage." In any case, I'm here to make sure she gets through the night safely and not seek comfort. The last time I was comfortable was six months ago. After that, comfort became a foreign concept. People like me don't deserve comfort. But she does.
I watch her get under the covers. However, it's a while before I hear her soft snores. When she sleeps though, it's like her troubles are nothing but an illusion. Sometimes I wish I was one of those people who get a few hours of peace. I don't. Because even when I sleep, my troubles still find a way to infringe my peace through the endless nightmares.
My light sleeping proves useful when a shrilling scream steals my hearing. I've never thunder bolted so fast like how I do when I see Zuri's shaking body.
"Mama don't leave me. Mama please" She cries, her eyes shut tight. I kneel by her bedside.
Sweat glints on her skin. Her hands reach to grab on anything eventually settling on her sheets. She claws them tight to almost a tear.
I gingerly nudge her shoulder, hoping to wake her up. "Zuri, wake up." And it's enough to make her jolt up, her eyes snapping open. Her breathing is hard, her face stained with sorrow.
She shocks me yet again by hugging me. Her pounding heart clashes with mine. This is the second time my heart is beating to the rhythm of hers and I don't know what to do about it. "Shh it's just a nightmare. I'm here. Nothing will hurt you, Princess." I placate, hugging her back.
A wetness drenches my shoulder. She's crying again. "I miss her." She croaks, quietly.
Her mom's death is what has been weighing her down. She has lost so much. I lost a parent too but to alcohol and gambling. She lost hers to death. I can't even imagine how she's managed to survive this long.
I lack better words to tell her but at the very least I try, "It'll get better." For her sake I hope it does. I may not be able to fix my own life's mess but I could attempt to fix hers by being a reliable friend.
Once we draw away, I wipe the remnants of tears on her cheeks. Her lower lip quivers, her eyes glossy with tears.
"You'll be fine. You're a strong independent woman. If she saw you right now, she'd be so proud of how you turned out even without her around." I assure her.
"Thankyou. For everything."
We make eye contact and for a while we stare at each other. In that brief moment, everything else fades away, her mother's death, Maddie's fury in the morning, my father's negligence and the blackmail all dim in the presence of our heated moment.
I'm so fucked.
I'm the first one to blink away. "You should go back to sleep." I push to my feet.
She nibbles on her bottom lip as she repeatedly folds and unfolds her hands. She is nervous. "You could stay." She stumbles over her words.
I pass her a blank look. "I am staying."
"I mean stay here. On the bed. With me." She suggests, sheepishly, her eyes looking everywhere but at me.
"You sure?" I ask. I don't want her to think that she's obligated to just because I helped her.
"I am." She affirms.
I contemplate her words and pleading expression before I sigh and flip open the covers. "Although I should warn you, I tend to sleep like a lion." I joke.
Her lips twitch into a forced smile. "Then you can protect me from the animals in my sleep."
That night, sleep comes with no trouble.
When I wake up, she's draped across my chest, her legs entwined with mine. A voluntary grin tows through my lips.
Maybe there's still hope for me.