~Emily's POV~
My phone rang while I was in class and my heart flew out of my chest when I saw that it was Andy calling. I had to pretend not to care. “I have nothing to say to you.” I answered. I could hear Andy’s apartment buzzer going off in the background.

He heaved a huge sigh but didn’t say anything, a faucet dripped in the background and his breathing sounded heavy. “Sounds like you’ve got company.” I rolled my eyes and plugged my other ear, leaving the classroom and trying to hear what was going on at his house.

“Emily?” Andy whispered through tears, his voice cracking.

“I don’t want to hear it.” I looked at my fingernails and tried to shrug him off. Inside my heart was shattering and each of those pieces might as well have shattered into more pieces.

“Please.” His voice was a whisper.

Don’t tell him you love him. Don’t ever tell him you love him again, it’s not worth it. You know how he feels about you. He’s just not into you, don’t tell him. He’s crying. I can’t stand hearing him cry, even if he is drunk. Why is he drinking on a Monday morning anyway? This has to stop, should I tell him? Does he need me to tell him that once Sunday night rolls around the drinking needs to stop? Shouldn’t he already know that?

“I don’t care.” I pressed the phone to my lips and sighed loudly. “Look you’re right, we’re just friends.” My eyes started to water. “We were friends.” I corrected.

In the background it sounded like a guy was yelling and banging on his door. “Emily please.” He pleaded.

Something is off about his voice. He doesn’t sound drunk at all. He sounds messed up. “What’s that sound?” I pressed my entire hand against my other ear as though it would help me hear.

“I’ve done something stupid.” His voice broke again, his words were slurred and I could barely understand him.

“Your voice.” I said quietly as a million things came to mind. Was he on the roof after drinking too much? Did Olivia dump him?

“Hello? We’re responding to a call placed to check on the welfare of a person named ‘Andrew’.” A guy hollered.

“Where are you Andy?!” I yelled, looking around the empty hallway frantically. Everybody was in class. “WTF is going on?” I was desperately looking around for anybody in sight as though they could help Andy on the other end of the phone.

“Ask Chris.” He said, his phone dropped to the floor.

“ANDY?!” I shouted. I hear a radio in the background and a guy asking Andy what his full name was. He asks Andy if he can unwrap the shirt from his arm, then asks him if knows what happened to his wrist.

“Emily.” He says. “I need to talk to Emily.” He's shouting for me.

What was left of my heart felt like it exploded in the microwave at that exact second. “ANDY?!” I shout again into the phone. “I’M HERE!” I tried. Tears began falling, my hand covered my mouth and I stood helplessly in the hallway. I don’t know his mom’s number. I don’t know any of his friend’s numbers. I’m stuck listening to a guy talking him through stepping out of the bathtub. The guy tells him he’ll need stitches and has him agree to go to the Hospital. When everything goes silent I’m still on the line, my ear pressed to the phone as a siren faintly grows distant in the background. I didn’t want to end the call, but I hung up and used my phone to search his social media for Chris. I barely knew him and I was afraid to call him.

“My name is Emily. I’m calling about Andy.” The words weren’t coming out right.

“Emily! I remember you!” Chris said.

“Thanks. Andy said you know what happened tonight.” I lost my voice before I could finish talking.

“Ummmm.” He drew out the word. “About that.” He seemed hesitant.

“I heard a guy saying he needed stitches?” I asked.

“He hung up on me after I yelled at him.”

“He said he did something stupid?” I sniffled into the phone, afraid of the answer.

“I don’t really know the whole story.” His voice trailed off. “How much do you know?”

“Pretty much what I told you, he’s going to the Hospital for stitches.” My voice started trembling.

“I don’t know how to say this.” He stopped talking and took a deep breath.

“I need to know.” My voice cracked. I was already crying.

“He chased a lot of pills with a lot of booze.” He sighed, his voice heavy.

“The paramedic.” My voice cracked, suddenly I was aware of the reality of the situation, “Said he had a gash from his wrist to his fourth finger.” I tried to steady my voice. “And something about a head trauma.”

“He wasn’t making much sense when I talked to him. I’ve seen him messed up before, but not to the point that he wasn’t making any sense.” He said.

“Somebody needs to be there for him.” I pressed my eyes closed and felt the cool metal of the bathroom stall against my head. Why can’t that somebody be me?

“I could go stay with him for a while.” He offered.

“I don’t think he should be alone.” The words barely left my lips before I closed my eyes and thought of him lying in a Hospital bed with a bloody arm and a bandage wrapped sloppily around his head with tufts of his hair poking out.

“Yeah, you know what? I think I’ll go surprise him.”

“Thanks Chris.” I felt a little bit better. “Oh. He doesn’t have his phone.” I added.

“I can find him.” He said with confidence. “Would you like to join me?”

“I’d love to. But I have classes.” I answered, nervous at the thought of meeting him.

“Skip class! I’ll pick you up, we’ll go say hey and be back in a day or two.” He made it sound like my dad wouldn’t kill me.

“Yeah.” I said quietly.

“That yeah sounded like a no.” He laughed. “Think about it. You have my number.” He sounded like he was about to hang up.

“Wait.” I tried to think of what to say. Tell Andy I love him? Does Christ know about Andy and I? Does anyone know? “Thanks.” I sighed.

“No worries. Ciao.” He hung up.

I stared at the phone and time seemed to halt. I had the chance to meet Andy, did I really want to? Did he even want to meet me? No, I can’t go rushing to his side. That’s what the old Emily would do.

Notes