since that was her favorite. Just because he didn’t want her to drop out of college didn’t mean he didn’t love his little sis.
There was the thud against the door. Blue again. Beautiful dog, but dumb as a fern. The dog was whining now. Another thud.
Levi opened the door and stared down at the dog. “What?”
Blue looked up and whined.
“Holland, your dog’s out,” Levi said. Her door was still wide open.
There was no answer.
“Faith?” He went into her apartment. “Holland, you here? Oh, shit.”
Faith was standing at the kitchen counter, plucking at her sweater. She looked confused.
If memory served, she was about to have a seizure.
“Faith? You okay?”
She didn’t turn. The dog barked once, and Faith crumpled. Levi yanked her toward him so her head wouldn’t hit the counter and eased her onto the floor. She was already jerking, poor kid, muscles stiff, jaw clenched. He turned her on her side in case she threw up. Her eyes were open and vacant, and out of reflex, Levi looked at his watch. 18:34:17. Time the seizure in case it lasted more than five minutes, that was protocol. He wasn’t an EMT for nothing.
He’d seen Faith have a seizure four or five times in school. Somehow, it was scarier now that he was the adult in charge. Her fingers were splayed and rigid, her back arching with the force of the spasms.
Blue paced back and forth, panting and whining. “It’s okay, buddy,” Levi said, his hand on Faith’s shoulder as her arms and legs spasmed. “She’ll be fine.”
18:34:42. Still seizing. What else should he say? Speak reassuringly to the victim, the nurse used to say, and the whole class knew who the victim was. “You’re okay, Faith,” he said. “You’ll be fine.”
18:35:08. “Doing great, Holland. Don’t worry. Your dog is here.” Well, that was dumb. “Me, too. I’m right here.”
It was oddly quiet, the seizure, just the sound of her shoes rubbing against the floor, the sleet pattering against the window, the sound of her hard breathing. “Hang in there, Faith.”
Shit. It couldn’t be fun, having your body and brain rebel against you like this. Her muscles were tight and clenched under his hand, her right arm out in front of her face as if shielding herself from a blow. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Almost done.” Not that he knew anything.
18:35:42. Maybe he should call her dad. As a member of the volunteer fire department, Levi knew there wasn’t anything a call to 911 would do; they’d give her oxygen, which did more to make them feel better than because she needed it. No, she was breathing fine, if hard. No blueness to her face or lips. Dr. Buckthal had done an in-service for Emergency Services last year—Marcus Shrade had a TBI from a car accident, and had grand mals a few times a year. The doc said a seizure would end when it ended. Hopefully soon. Helluva way to get a workout.
Okay, she was stopping. 18:36:04. Her arms and legs stilled, and he could feel the tension start to seep out of her, see her practically sink into the floor as the misfirings in her brain stopped and allowed her muscles to relax. Blue lay down next to her and put his head on her leg.
“Faith? You okay?” He smoothed some hair off her face. She wasn’t shaking anymore, but she was still out of it. Postictal, that was the word, staring straight ahead. The dog’s tail started thumping. “You’re in your apartment, Holland. You had a seizure, but you’re doing fine.” She blinked and swallowed but didn’t answer. He fished his phone out of his pocket and found the Hollands’ number on it. “Hey, John, it’s Levi Cooper. Listen, sir, Faith just had a seizure. Lasted about ninety seconds.”
“You saw the whole thing?” John asked, his voice sharp with concern.
“Yes, sir. Anything in particular I should do?”
“Is she awake now?”
Levi saw that he was stroking Faith’s hair, the red strands impossibly silky. “Faith? How you doing?” She swallowed and looked up at him. “Your dad’s on the phone. You want to talk to him?”
She blinked. “My dad?”
“Yep. She’s coming around, sir.” He held the phone to Faith’s ear, and she reached up, her arm wobbling a little.
“Hi, Daddy,” she said. “Um...I...I don’t know.” She closed her eyes and frowned. “I’m fine. I think Levi...I don’t know. Okay. Here he is.”
Levi took the phone back. “Anything I should do?” he asked.
“I’m coming right down,” her father said.
“The roads are pretty icy.” He paused. “I can stay with her, or take her to the hospital, if you think she should go.”
“I don’t wanna go anywhere,” Faith muttered. “I’m tired.”
“She says she’s tired,” Levi added.
John sighed into the phone. “How bad are the roads?”
“Bad enough to stay put. What does she need?”
“A nap. Someone to keep an eye on her. That usually does the trick. Damn, she hasn’t had one of these in a long time.”
Faith seemed to be sleeping. “I can stay with her for a while,” he said. “I live right across the hall.”
Her father hesitated. “You sure?”
“Absolutely, sir.”
John sighed. “Okay. I’d appreciate that. If you could call me when she wakes up, that’d be great. Generally, she sleeps for a little while, seems a little groggy, but otherwise, she’s fine. She probably missed a few doses of her medication. But if she seizes again, call me right away.”
“You got it. I’ll check in later.”
“Thanks, son. You’re a good kid.”
Levi put his phone on the counter. “Faith? You awake?”
“I’m tired,” she said without opening her eyes.
“I’m gonna pick you up, okay?”
“I need to lose fifteen pounds first.”
He felt the start of a smile. “I can manage.” He slid his arms under her and lifted her up. Okay, she wasn’t a wisp of a thing, she had a point. She sure smelled good, though, sweet and warm. Her head settled against his shoulder, her hair brushing his chin.
The dog trotted into another room, tail waving, and Levi followed. Set her down on the unmade bed and took off her shoes. “Thanks, Levi,” she murmured, her voice distant.
He pulled the covers over her. Blue jumped up and put his head on her hip. Faith reached out to pet him without opening her eyes. “I’ll be out here if you need me,” Levi said.
“Okay.”
