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SEPTEMBER 2021 – 32 YEARS OLD

“Hell.” I run a clammy hand through my hair, desperate for a breeze. “It’s hot for September.”

“Is it?” Tanner frowns, eyes tracking my movements as I pull my t-shirt away from my chest rapidly, trying to cool myself down. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” I drop my shirt. “Just hot.”

“What?” Tanner frowns.

“What do you mean, what? It’s fucking hot,” I snap.

“Tate.” Concern filters into his expression and I hear him ask, “What?” Before pain erupts inside my skull and my world goes dark.

The next thing I know, I’m on the ground, gravel digging into the back of my pounding skull and Tanner is on his knees, phone to his ear.

“What’s going on?” I ask, shielding my eyes from the sun. I start to sit.

“Don’t move, man.” Pause. “Yeah, he’s awake.”

I ignore Tanner, pushing up to sit. “Who are you on the phone with?”

“Ambulance.”

I stand on legs that feel like Jell-O. “For what?”

“You.” Another pause. “Yeah, he seems like himself now. He’s not talking gibberish anymore.”

Gibberish?

“I don’t need an ambulance.” Fuck, my head hurts. “I need to get home.”

I need my pills.

“I don’t know,” Tanner says to whoever is on the line. “I don’t know what happened.”

“Tell them I don’t need an ambulance,” I snap. “And I’m not getting in it if they get here.”

Tanner holds the phone out to me. “She wants to talk to you.”

I take the phone, irritated to be doing this when my head is pounding like it is. “I’m fine.”

She explains that she needs to assess me, and I go through her questions. When we’re finished, she says cautiously, “It is my recommendation that you seek emergency medical evaluation, and although I cannot force you to accept ambulatory care, I want to make it clear that I believe you should be evaluated as soon as possible. Based on my conversation with your friend, I believe you may have suffered a seizure.”

A seizure?

“Thank you,” I say. “I’ll head in. Just cancel the dispatch.”

With that, I disconnect, handing Tanner his phone as I press my palms into my forehead. “Damn it, this sun is bright.”

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” Tanner holds out his hand. “Give me the keys.”

“I don’t need the hospital. I need my pills.”

“You told her you were heading in.”

“I just need my meds,” I say tiredly, but through the tired, anger is rising. I don’t know why I feel so angry.

“Tate, I’m taking you to the hospital if I have to knock you unconscious to do it.” There’s a look in Tanner’s eyes that gives me pause. “Man, you were talking shit that made no sense. Words that aren’t even words. Then you just went down.” His hand pushes through his hair before it lands on his hip. “I’m taking you in and you’re not fighting with me about it, so give me the keys.”