Chapter Thirty-Nine

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After leaving the therapist's office, the teenagers went to Starbucks

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After leaving the therapist's office, the teenagers went to Starbucks. They were sitting at a table with their drinks.

They took a couple of sips until Aiden finally spoke, "So, are you going to tell me anytime soon, how did it go with Kate?" he teased, tapping his fingers on the table.

After taking a slurp of the beverage, Isabella sat her cup on the table.

"It went very well, actually. She's really nice and everything."

"Yeah? That's good. See, we wouldn't just throw you to someone terrible." He cocked his head to the side, and it caused Isabella to smile. "Do you mind telling me what you talked about?"

"Well, I didn't tell her everything, obviously. But I did tell her about the voices," Isabella started. Aiden nodded for her to continue. "After I explained to her about that, she pointed out that I might have schizophrenia."

Aiden widened his eyes, frowning. "Really?"

"Yeah, but after everything we've talked about, she said there was a way to find out for sure," she continued, her voice lightening.

"Like what?"

"She said I should see a psychiatrist. She even wrote some information down on who I should see." She shoved her hand into her jean pocket and grabbed the paper Kate had given her. She unfolded the paper and set it on the table, pushing it close to Aiden.

Aiden read the paper and looked back at her.

"Wow, so are you going to meet her?" He pushed the paper back to Isabella, and she grabbed it, putting it back in her pocket.

"Kate gave me a referral to see her, and after today, I think I'm going to go back to her. She surprised me, I'm not gonna lie."

"This is great. I'm happy for you." Aiden smiled, extending his hand across the table to hold Isabella's.

"Thank you." She smiled back. "It was nice of her to do that after just one visit, but finally, I'll get the chance to feel better."

"And you're getting there. I'm glad we were able to—"

He stopped and pulled his hand away from hers, letting out a dry cough. He kept coughing, covering his mouth with his hand.

"Are you okay?" Isabella asked, concerned. His cough ceased at some point as his face was flushed. He cleared his throat and swallowed, managing his breathing.

"Are you okay?" she asked again, panicked when he wasn't answering.

"Yeah, sorry . . ." He cleared his throat once more. "Um, I'll be right back, okay?" He stood up without waiting for a reply from Isabella and walked past her to the front of the building.

Before Isabella could react to anything, a loud thud hit the floor. Everyone gasped loudly, with "oh my Gods" echoing in the café.

Isabella turned around to see a figure lying on the ground on their stomach, not moving.

Aiden?

"Aiden!" Isabella screamed and jumped off her seat, running towards her friend. She dropped to her knees and turned Aiden over, gently resting him on his back.

"Aiden! Can you hear me?"

Aiden's forehead had beads of sweat rolling down his face, and Isabella was broken at the sight. He wasn't opening his eyes or moving. She placed her hand on his forehead and neck, feeling his skin burning hot.

Isabella looked up at everyone gathered around in a circle with worry in their eyes. "Someone call 9-1-1, please!" she cried, looking back at Aiden to see his face still flushed.

Her eyes stung as tears poured down her cheeks. She watched his face, and he looked so fragile. The signs she'd seen Aiden display over the last few days had turned severe, capped off by him fainting unexpectedly.

She tuned out everything around her, including the people murmuring about what was happening.

She pushed the fringe away from his face and looked at his closed eyes.

Why won't he open his eyes? She needed to see if he was okay. "Aiden, Aiden, please," she begged, holding his face in her hands.

A woman's voice called out, "The ambulance is coming!"

They're coming. Isabella stared at his closed eyelids and pictured his blue eyes looking at her—a sign saying he was okay and that he would go back to normal. She just wanted him to wake up.

I can't lose him.

She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close to her chest.

"You're going to be okay," she whispered to him. She ranted in her head that she couldn't think negatively right now. She needed to see him get better. He had to get better.

Isabella looked down for a second, only to notice that the palm of Aiden's hand was covered in blood.

Her heart stopped—she just saw red.

Red, red, red, red.

She tried to understand how the blood got on his hand. It was impossible for him to magically have blood appear in his hand when he was only gone for a few seconds.

She then realized it was the same hand that Aiden had coughed on.

He coughed up blood.

He must have been on his way to the restroom to clean it up before he collapsed. The scary thing was how calm he was—he didn't even look at his hand. It was a reflex to him like this had happened before. He had been hiding how bad it was.

She felt nauseous at the thought.

Sirens erupted outside the building after a few minutes, which made Isabella optimistic. The ambulance arrived, and Aiden would finally get the help he needed.

He needed to be okay.

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