22. Jesse

Chapter 22

Jesse

I’d probably never get the hang of all this campaigning crap. Political work, I could do. Elections? Still Greek to me.

Which was why, the day after the visit to that community college, I was more than a little blown away when the story of my exchange with the student—Lisa; I’d remember her name until the day I died—hit the media like a match to kindling. I supposed I should have expected it, but it certainly hadn’t been on my mind when I’d offered her some comfort during the Q you go take care of Simone.”

Numbly I nodded, and my brother and I exchanged a quick hug. As he took off to settle up the tab, I looked at Ranya. “How is she?”

“She’s stable,” she said. “Dean said they’re transporting her by ambulance to an emergency room in San Diego.”

“Where’s Anthony?”

“He’s on the phone.” She gestured with her chin toward the restaurant, where Anthony spoke quickly into his cell. “Making travel arrangements.”

“And she’s all right?” My heart pounded and my mouth went dry. “I mean, they’re not concerned that she’s…that…”

Ranya smoothed the air with both hands. “It doesn’t sound life threatening. From what Dean said, she passed out and they just want to take her in to make sure everything’s all right, but it doesn’t sound like a heart attack or anything serious.”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. That was encouraging, but not as much as I desperately needed. If Simone had passed out, I’d have bet money it was a direct result of her eating disorder, which meant she hadn’t been eating much, if anything. Or at least not keeping much of it down. What effect might that have had on her kidneys? Her liver? Her heart? Passing out could have been the worst of it, or it could have been the tip of the iceberg.

Movement out of the corner of my eye turned my head just as Anthony strode into the bar.

“We’re better off driving,” he said. “San Diego’s only a couple of hours away, so by the time we get to the airport and through security, we could be halfway there.”

I tried and failed to moisten my lips. “Okay, let’s go.”

“My car’s got a full tank of gas and has more room than either of yours,” Ranya said. “Anthony, you can drive. ”

I didn’t make any of my usual comments about her piece-of-shit car this time. I just followed her and Anthony out to the parking lot, got in her car, and hoped to God we didn’t run into any traffic.