“Why are you crying?” Chaz asks as he continues to dry my wet face.
I sniffle then shake my head.
“Come on. That’s not nothing. You look pale and weak.” His voice and expression manifest concern. But how genuine that concern is? – I have no idea. In fact, these wild thoughts that are clouding my brain worsen every chance they can to the point that they are taking a toll on my health.
“I’m under the weather.”
“Let’s go to the hospital,” Chaz says with a firm tone. “Drew,…”
Before he could finish his sentence, I interrupt him. “No need. The clinic’s doctor already gave me a prescription.”
“What did she say?”
I lick my lips then purse them as my head formulates a good lie which is stranded in my throat.
He sighs. “You need to go to the hospital and I need to know what’s your medic
