Chapter 14

Nash

Nash's leg bounced up and down, up and down as he kept his eyes on Chloe's seat next to his in Calculus class. The lesson had already begun and Ms. Reed scribbled calculations across the board, but Chloe still hadn't come. Twenty minutes had gone by and all Nash could do was worry about Chloe. Where was she? Was it because of their conversation yesterday? Had he scared her off? He ran his fingers through his hair, frustrated.

"Where is she?" Nash asked Sophia, who was frowning at the board.

Sophia glanced at Nash, her eyebrows furrowing. "Chloe? She's sick today. Took the day off."

"Chloe? The girl who came to school with a severe cold last year?"

"Yeah... I don't know, she said she could barely get out of bed, so she decided to take the day off."

Nash frowned. At least she wasn't avoiding him, but what happened the other day still stung. She told him to leave her alone and that she hated their time together and Nash had felt guilty. He thought Chloe hadn't minded him, but maybe she had. Maybe she had only accepted his challenges because she was too nice to say no.

But that couldn't be. She had asked him to compete too and she always smiled, always been welcoming to him. He was sure she was trying to push him away and the competitive part of Nash knew he couldn't let her win. He wouldn't let her get rid of him.

And because he was worried, he'd visit her. He didn't care if she'd be furious, but he would make sure she was ok. Both physically and mentally because Nash would never give up. Not without a fight, at least.

*****

Nash knocked on the door to Chloe's home. He had asked the receptionist where she lived and he gave him a suspicious look in return. But, Nash explained they were classmates and he was bringing her homework over and the receptionist gave him her room number.

Nash paced for a bit in front of her door, feeling nervous. He knew she'd be furious. And he worried he was overstepping a boundary, but he couldn't just let her be sick on her own. He wanted to help her, even if she didn't want to be helped.

The door opened and Chloe's dad stood there staring at him. He looked drained and he held a cane in one hand, and his legs quivered. Nash rushed towards him, worried he'd fall at any moment.

"Hi," Nash said. "Um, is Chloe home? I just wanted to bring her some homework and check up on her."

"Yes... she has a bit of a fever." Her dad frowned. "You're the boy from two days ago. Are you Chloe's friend?"

"Um, yeah. I'm an Elite. We're classmates."

"I see... Well, come on in. Chloe's room is at the end of the hall."

Nash stepped into her tiny apartment. The kitchen and living room were connected and they were right in front of him - half the size of his bedroom and he gulped, already understanding why Chloe thought he was so much more than her. He hated that she thought that, but now he understood how his home made her feel in comparison with the cracks on the walls and floor, the faded and stained walls, and lack of furniture except for a table and one tattered couch. They were from two different worlds and Nash had ben naive enough to think that shouldn't matter at all.

Nash gulped and wandered down the hallway towards Chloe's room. The door was shut and he took a deep breath in before knocking, his hands feeling sweaty already. And after a minute, Chloe yelled to come in, coughing in the process, and Nash opened the door.

Nothing, but a single bed was in Chloe's tiny bedroom and she lay on it, her forehead sweaty and her hair sticking to her skin. Her eyes widened at the sight of him and she said nothing for a moment, seeming too stunned to speak. Nash closed the door behind him and leaned against the door; his heart pounding.

"Um, I brought you some Calculus notes and our homework," Nash said. "Sophia said you were sick... So I decided to stop by."

"Nash..." Chloe coughed, her small body wracking. "I told you... You shouldn't be here."

"I know, but I couldn't stay away. I had to check up on you."

Chloe sighed. He moved closer to her and sat on the edge of her bed, uncaring about whether he'd get sick. He stared down at Chloe who breathed heavily, seeming drained.

"If I tell you to get out, you won't listen, will you," Chloe whispered, her eyes fluttering shut. "You never listen, do you?"

"Wow, you know me so well."

Chloe rolled her eyes, but she kept her gaze on Nash for a moment. He'd never seen her so tired. Usually Chloe was so upbeat and energetic, but the girl in front of him seemed defeated.

"Do you have a fever?" Nash asked, placing his hand on her forehead. "When did it start?"

"Yeah, this morning. I just woke up and realized I couldn't get out of bed."

"Have you eaten?"

"No, I don't think my dad has either," Chloe groaned. "He must be struggling, too. I can't believe I got sick."

"Chloe... being sick is normal. You don't have to be perfect every day."

Chloe said nothing. Her eyes fell shut again and a pained expression bloomed upon her face.

"I'm going to make you soup," Nash said, moving to stand. "For you and your dad."

"Can I say no?"

"No, you can't."

Chloe sighed, but she kept her eyes shut and Nash wandered off. He could tell Chloe was struggling to stay awake.

He went to the kitchen and began to boil water. And as he waited, he chopped vegetables, his eyes on the water as he pondered over Chloe. Why didn't she ever worry about herself? Why wouldn't she accept any help. He thought he was stubborn, but Chloe blew him out of the water and it caught him off guard. What was she trying so hard to prove?

"What's your name?" Nash jolted at the sound of Chloe's dad's voice. He whipped his head to the couch he lay on.

"Nash," Nash replied.

"How long have you known Chloe?"

"For more than a year now. We became Elites at the same time and we've both been Elites ever since."

Chloe's dad stared at him, his eyes curious. Nash gulped, feeling like he had to be on his best behaviour. He poured some spices and the cut vegetables into the pot of boiling water.

"How is she at school?" her dad asked. "I worry about her a lot. She puts too much on her plate and I'm afraid she's going to reach her breaking point soon."

"She's brilliant," Nash said. "But she does seem tired. She's late to her classes a lot."

"Cause of her job and taking care of me." Her dad sighed. "If only I hadn't gotten sick."

Nash glanced at her dad. He trembled nonstop and he was awfully frail. Nash was sure he couldn't be much older than his own dad, but his body looked like the body of an elderly.

"What happened?" Nash asked. "If you don't mind me asking."

"A stroke last summer. Out of nowhere when I was fifty five. I can't function the same way... Sometimes I fall and Chloe tells me not to move so much. That's why she does everything. Work, cook and clean. It's because my brain and body isn't what it used to be and poor Chloe has to suffer for it."

Nash said nothing. A lump in his throat grew at the thought of Chloe having to do everything from a freak illness. That was the scary thing about life. One day you could wake up and have you entire world rocked by things out of your control.

"And she does everything on her own, doesn't she?" Nash asked. "That's why she's so tired."

"Everything. I hate it, but I can't afford a caregiver. And I can't be on my feet too long. I feel like I failed my daughter."

"No, Chloe always talks highly about you. Your stroke was out of your control."

Her dad teared up and nodded, and they spent the next few minutes in silence. Nash finished up the soup and poured it into two bowls and passed one to Chloe's dad.

"Thank you," her dad said. "You are a kind young man. Chloe is lucky to have you in her life."

Nash nodded before grabbing the second bowl. He couldn't speak. Not when his heart felt so heavy at the thought of Chloe's life. She didn't deserve any of this.

He walked back to Chloe's room and he stilled at the sight of her sleeping. Her chest rose and fell in a soothing tempo and he sat down on the edge of her bed once more. He should leave. Just put the bowl on the ground and get out, but he wanted to be there for her. She was so alone in this life she was given and he just wanted to be there for her in any way he could.

Her damp hair stuck to her forehead and Nash reached over and began to brush it away from her face. Her eyes were shut and she looked so peaceful - so innocent and young. How could she be a caregiver at nineteen? That was far too young.

"Nash," Chloe whispered. Nash yanked his hand back, stunned as her eyes fluttered open. "Oh, you're still here."

"Oh, sorry." Nash flushed, grabbing the bowl of soup. "I made you soup."

"Oh, thank you," Chloe sighed. "I'll eat in a bit. I'm just so tired."

"I know."

Nash glanced away, knowing he said too much and Chloe stared at him. He should drop the topic - it was none of his business, but he just wanted to learn more about Chloe. He wanted to find out how he could be there for her.

"I spoke to your dad while I was cooking," Nash said. "He told me about his illness."

"Oh," Chloe whispered. "Yeah... Um..."

She teared up. Her eyes fell shut and Nash's heart jolted. He waited for her to calm herself down before reaching over and caressing her cheek, making her eyes fly open.

"I'm sorry about your dad," Nash said. "That's horrible for both of you to go through. Is there any possibility of him getting better?"

"No, the doctors said he'll always be like this. The stroke damaged his brain and there's no way of fixing it."

Her body rose and fell more rapidly and Nash kept caressing her cheek. Her eyes remained on his as they stared at each other as if no one else in the world existed.

"And you take care of him on your own?" Nash asked. "You clean, cook and work as well?"

Chloe nodded. She didn't speak and Nash could see the shame that clouded her expression. The shame he never understood.

"You don't have to hide your life from me or anyone," Nash whispered. "What are you so scared of?"

"I'm ashamed, Nash," Chloe whispered. "Most nineteen year olds aren't caregivers. They shouldn't be worried about taking care of their parents. They should be partying and enjoying life, but my life revolves around my caregiver duties. I don't and will never have a regular life."

"I can't imagine how hard it must be." Nash's hand paused against her face and Chloe leaned against it. Her green eyes were so tired, but they shone despite everything. "But it's nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone understands it's out of your control. They'd even respect you for it."

"But I don't want to be pitied. I don't want to be known as the girl with a tough life. I just want to be me."

Nash didn't know what to say to that. No one would pity her, but he understood that feeling sorry for someone could come across wrong, so he tried his best not to treat Chloe differently. She was strong. Resilient. And he'd focus on those traits of hers.

"So this is why you work so hard," Nash said. "I thought you worked for school, but your scholarships cover everything, don't they?"

Chloe pulled her eyes away and Nash's heart jerked. He tilted her face to face him again and now Chloe's eyes flew wide. Her soft lips parted and Nash felt his heart pound. Something about this tiny room made him feel even closer to her.

"If you need anything, please reach out to me," Nash said. "Even if you just need someone to talk to."

Chloe said nothing. She just kept her eyes on his and Nash knew she didn't want to talk about it anymore, so he began to tell her stories of his childhood. Of him riding on horses and running away on them, only for Naya to scream at him. He told her that he once fell off a yacht and Chloe had gasped and laughed when Nash said he made it a yearly habit to jump off them ever since.

He kept telling her story after story, opening up about his childhood as Chloe smiled and listened, her eyes fluttering shut occasionally. And after a few hours, Chloe had fallen asleep and Nash watched her for a moment, feeling his heart flutter merely at the sight of her. And he realized, he'd never felt this way before.