Someone Like You

Chapter Ten

Brea

The next morning, I'm leaning on the railing outside of my hotel room, my arms draped over the ledge as I wait for Nathan. It's twenty minutes past the time he told me he was picking me up.

Sighing, I pull up his contact and try calling him again. Like the last two times, it goes straight to voicemail.

Shoving my phone into my pocket, I start walking in the direction of the house, starting to feel a little uneasy. I enjoy the walk. The sun isn't too hot yet and there's a cool breeze blowing my hair over my shoulders.

There's a layer of perspiration covering my forehead by the time I reach the driveway as the day grows warmee. My brother's truck is parked in it. I swipe off the sweat, brushing my palms down my dress. The door is slightly ajar and I press against it. It creaks as I open it.

"Nathan?" I call.

A thick silence greets me. The house is dusty and unkept. I step over the piles of shoes and clothes scattered across the dented floorboards.

"Hello?"

A sense of dread accumulates in my chest. I'm already on edge with everything else that has been going on.

"Nathan?" I yell louder this time, the panic evident in my voice.

I madly begin checking every room. I get to the last one in the hallway and shove it open. My brother lays diagonal across his bed, staring out the window.

"Oh my God!" I exclaim. "You scared me half to death. Didn't you hear me calling out for you?"

He doesn't acknowledge me. He continues laying on his side, staring absently ahead. Frowning, I step over all the crap on his floor so that I can face him.

"Nathan?"

"Hi," he eventually replies.

I'm speechless for a few moments.

"Uh... you were meant to pick me up like forty-five minutes ago. We were going to visit dad?"

"Can't."

A sound mixed between a scoff and a harsh breath leaves me. "Because you're so busy?"

"Can't get out of bed," he says quietly.

My heart sinks into my chest. Swallowing, I lower myself to the edge of the bed.

"What's wrong?"

He shrugs.

"Are you sick?"

"I don't know."

Bile rises in the back of my throat. This isn't the first time I've seen this, and I want to empty my stomach onto the floor. This can't be happening.

"Nathan," I say gently. "I need you to get out of bed and have a shower. Can you do that for me?"

"I can't get up."

Standing, I place my hands on my hips, staring down at him. I go out to the kitchen and fill two glasses of water. When I'm back in his room, I place one glass next to him and the other on the spare bedside table. Kicking off my shoes, I crawl into bed beside him.

He rolls onto his back, turning his head.

"Then we will stay here," I say.

"Okay," he says after a minute.

"I'm going to put a movie on."

He nods, looking up at the ceiling.

As I browse through Netflix, Nathan half-turns.