27. Hunter

Playlist: Silver Springs - Live at Warner Brother Studios in Burbank, CA 5/23/97 | Fleetwood Mac

Beep. Beep. Beep.

I blink awake, disoriented and vision foggy.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

I blearily glance around the room as I sit up. It’s still dark, no sunlight peeking through the curtains, and I’m taken aback when my eyes land on the clock next to Giovanna’s side of the bed.

3:26 a.m.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Why is there an alarm going off in the middle of the night? In this economy? Unacceptable.

I grab my phone from the nightstand and swipe up to turn off the alarm. It takes me at least five swipes before I realize the sound isn’t coming from my phone.

Beep. Beep. Beep .

“Giovanna?” I whisper, turning my head to look at her.

“Hmmm?” she answers, and I’m not sure why, but I can tell something’s not right.

Beep. Beep. Beep .

Oh my god. That’s not my alarm, that’s not why I recognize the sound.

That’s the sound Giovanna’s CGM app makes when her blood sugar’s low.

My heart plummets. “Jo?” I grab her shoulder and shake roughly. Probably rougher than necessary. But all I can hear is her giving me instructions on what to do if she doesn’t wake up.

She turns over onto her side and meets my eyes. She's shaking.

“Hey,” I say softly, “is your blood sugar low?”

She’s staring at me, but it’s almost like she can’t focus on what I’m saying. “What?”

Beep. Beep. Beep .

I reach over her and grab her phone, holding it to her face so it unlocks. My stomach sinks when I open the app and it shows that her blood sugar is low, and trending downward.

I jump out of bed and walk to the dresser, where Loretta sits safely in her case. I unzip the case and rummage through until I find what I need and climb back into bed.

She’s curled on her side, and is eyeing me suspiciously. “Where’d you get that?”

“Amazon. I thought I should have them on me in case of an emergency.” I open the top of the little honey bear and lift the bottle to her mouth. “Open.”

Jo obliges, opening her mouth and slowly swallowing the honey as I tilt the bear upward. “You…you bought those for me?” she asks after swallowing.

“Yeah, I know you keep them on you, but I thought it’d be smart for me to have some, too.”

We’re quiet while she continues to eat the honey. “What now?” I ask quietly, turning to the side to put the bottle on the nightstand when she’s finished.

“Usually one is enough, so I’ll check my numbers in an hour or two.”

I head back to the dresser and grab another honey bear, just in case. When I return, she meets my eyes. “How did you know I was low?” She’s still shaky, but less so than a few minutes ago.

“I recognized the alarm,” I tell her.

Her brow furrows. “How?”

I blush. “I sort of watched a YouTube video so I’d know what they sounded like. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“You already did it.” She weakly pulls on me, and I lay down on my side, facing her. Her brows are furrowed in concentration as she stares at her phone.

“Do you want me to show you the Silver Springs video?” I ask.

“Hmm?” She looks up at me in confusion.

“I didn’t get to show you the Fleetwood Mac performance where Stevie Nicks curses Lindsey Buckingham. Do you want me to show it to you now?”

“Okay,” she says quietly. "I feel pretty disoriented right now, but I’ll try to follow along with the exclusive Hunter commentary.”

I grab my phone from the nightstand, pulling up Fleetwood Mac’s legendary performance of Silver Springs and holding it between us.

“Okay, so that’s Stevie Nicks, and that’s Lindsey Buckingham…” I begin to explain.

“Who’s that?” she asks, pointing to Mick Fleetwood.

“He doesn’t matter right now. Focus on Stevie and Lindsey. Like look at that tension.”

“Do they wanna fuck?” she questions.

“They used to fuck,” I explain, “and they had a really messy breakup. So Stevie wrote this song, and legend has it that this live performance is her cursing him.”

“Does he deserve it?”

I scoff. “He’s a man, Giovanna. Use that pretty little head of yours.”

“You think I’m pretty,” she says in a quiet sing-song voice.

We’re silent as we watch the performance, and when it gets to the bridge, I feel the goosebumps I always feel during this part rise on my arms.

“Oh. Yeah. She’s definitely cursing him,” she murmurs, checking her phone again.

“Right? It’s so fucking powerful. So badass.”

“I see why you like this performance so much.”

“Yeah?”

Jo rests her head on my shoulder, and I immediately rest mine on the top of her head. “Mmmhmm. You’re powerful and badass, too. Like begets like.”

My heart skips a beat. “You…you can’t say that, Jo. I’ll fall in love with you.”

Like I’m not already head over heels for her.

“Hmm,” she muses. “Would that really be so terrible?”

I don’t answer her, I can’t. Because then I’d tell her how falling for her again has been the most wonderful and terrifying thing to happen to me. How I’ve never felt freer, more secure. How I want to continue falling for her all the days of my life.

Once the song ends, we don’t move. “Can we watch it again?” she asks after a few silent minutes.

I press play and we silently watch Stevie Nicks perform magic again and again, until Jo’s blood sugar is in the safe zone. She falls asleep first, and it feels peaceful. Right.

I want to support her during her lows and her highs, because even though she can take care of herself, I want to take care of her, too. I want to hold her until she feels better, and to love her through it. God knows she deserves to be loved through it all.

And why couldn’t it be me?