The next day, everyone was thrilled about the event, but despite that, they managed to find common ground. Belinda had reluctantly eaten more than usual, to prevent the feeling of fatigue from having negative consequences, and had brought some dry ice to dab herself whenever she felt dizzy. The situation hadn't improved at all compared to the day before; in fact, she was now experiencing sudden nausea.
She concentrated on her breathing, trying to banish the unpleasant sensation, while Naomi helped her put on her swimsuit, snapping it shut at the back.
"Linda, are you sure you're okay? You look terrible," she observed, looking at her seriously.
"Yes, I'm just tired. I haven't been sleeping well these days," she replied with a grimace. "Did you curse me for stealing your best room? I haven't felt great since I've been sleeping here!" Belinda tried to play it down.
"I'm not kidding!" her sister replied worriedly, applying lipstick to her lips.
"Really, Tinker Bell, don't worry! It'll be a matter of moments, and then, as soon as I'm done with my number, I'll come right back here and lie down for a bit, okay?" she reassured her.
"I'll wait for you backstage, and you can be sure you'll keep your promise!"
"Yes, Mom!" she mimicked, grateful to have her close at that moment.
A moment later, she was in her seat, trying to forget the nausea, and as soon as it was her turn, she set off toward Bill.
The atmosphere mirrored that of the previous concert: the magical setting, the audience wearing silver helmets, hands raised to cheer her arrival, and Bill's voice tying it all together.
At the crucial moment, she raised her face to the boy, but a dizziness struck her just then, making her stagger. The audience roared loudly, and she felt a thunderclap in her head, as her eyes widened, trying not to lose eye contact. She breathed deeply, fighting back the sensation, trying to resist falling, while in slow motion she raised her hand toward Bill, whose eyes widened, casting a dark glance at Lucas, standing on the stairs.
With a final effort of will, Belinda straightened, lowering her arm, just as the little red heart in her costume began to beat three times. It did so slowly, glowing intermittently, as the lights flickered from her to the audience.
With a terrible effort, Belinda turned and walked stiffly toward the stairs, and when she reached Lucas, she leaned heavily against a pillar, removing her helmet and breathing in shallow breaths.
Nausea threatened to overwhelm her, and she felt her legs give out. Panic was overtaking her, but she steeled herself and headed toward her sister, who was watching her worriedly.
With a swift movement, Lucas picked her up in his arms and carried her to safety, lower down, to prevent her from falling and hurting herself, but Belinda looked at him desperately. "The bathroom... take me to the bathroom, Lucas, I'm going to throw up!"
Like lightning, the man headed for the bathroom, running with her in his arms, Naomi and Annalisa following anxiously behind him. As soon as he put her down, the two girls supported her and carried her to an empty sink.
Belinda struggled to look at herself, because her vision was blurry, but she managed to see that her face was deathly white.
She barely had time to tell the others to leave when a fit of vomiting forced her to stick her head in the sink, turning on the cold water and placing her wrists under it to avoid passing out.
It was a terrible moment, but fortunately brief, and as soon as she managed to stand up, a faint sense of calm spread through her limbs.
"Linda!" Naomi exclaimed.
"I'm better now. I must not have digested what I ate, or something caused congestion."
"Are you sure it's gone?" her sister asked.
"Yes... I think so," she reassured her. "Now that my stomach is empty, the nausea is going away."
She ran the cold water over her face and immediately felt better.
Holding a hand to her still-sore abdomen, she retraced her steps toward the stage: she couldn't leave Bill alone, considering the look on his face when he saw her run away.
She reached the steps to peek at what was happening on stage, but they were nearing the end and everything seemed to be going well: she was happy that her discomfort hadn't interrupted the show.
She scolded herself for not sleeping much, only for her stubbornness in wanting to finish the song, which had already weakened and could have caused problems for the band as well.
She saw them coming down the steps, with Bill looking at her worriedly and saying something to her, but she couldn't hear the words.
She stood there watching them with her mouth slightly open, surprised to feel as if she were wrapped in a thick blanket of cotton wool, while the sensation of falling took on a more substantial form. She saw the boy's face blanch as he shouted something, but she slowly closed her eyes, smiling, and let herself fall back into the void, and then there was only darkness.
A tingling sensation on her right arm bothered her, rousing her from the numbness that had pervaded her. She tried to reach out with her other arm to banish the discomfort, but a hand prevented her from scratching.
She tried to open her eyes, her lids heavy as boulders, her mouth felt glued and pasty. Little by little, trying to lift her eyelids, she became aware of a faint white light filtering from overhead lamps and of whispered voices around her.
She felt like a stranger in that place, and the background noise was greatly disturbing.
With the background noise, she felt a hand touch her forehead, turn her head, feel her neck, and a cold, icy object rest on her chest.
What the hell does this guy want to do? she asked herself, raising her left arm and giving a resounding slap to a shadow leaning over her.
She heard muffled giggles as her eyes tried to freeze the flickering image and focus on the face before her.
The voice that spoke to her was gentle. "Can you hear me, miss?"
Belinda nodded and tried to sit up, but another wave of nausea formed in the pit of her stomach. Slowly, she sank back onto the table, squinting harder to understand where she was and who was trying to touch her. With great effort, she opened her eyes, and little by little, a distinct figure took up residence before her. It was a man in his forties, with black hair and intense blue eyes that were shining a beam of light into her pupils, a flashlight shining into their pupils.
She raised her arm again to shield herself from the glare, but a hand blocked her, and with a soft laugh, Naomi's voice told her to stay still.
She immediately felt calmer and waited until the flashlight was moved away from her face and she could see better.
The man stood up and reassured everyone, saying that he had a head injury, but he would send a nurse to take blood samples and perform other tests.
He walked away with a nod of his head.
Belinda looked up at the others, who were watching her with a mixture of concern and exhaustion.
"What happened?" she asked her sister, noting that the band members were all around her, still wearing their stage clothes.
"A few moments ago, you slapped the doctor who was examining you," Tom said, laughing. "What a blow, Bel, you never disappoint!"
The pride she had felt in hitting the intruder made her feel uneasy.
"Doctor?" she grumbled. "Why, what happened to me?"
"You fainted," her sister told her. "Don't you remember?"
She frowned, trying to recall her last memories of the evening: there was the concert, and then that bout of nausea. But she couldn't remember anything else...
"Why did I faint?" she asked anxiously.
"They don't know. Someone's coming now to do another checkup and take blood samples," Bill replied, dropping into a chair beside her.
His face was tired and drawn, and the girl felt a pang in her heart: she'd been causing him nothing but trouble since she'd come into his life.
She placed a hand on his. "I'm being monotonous, but I'm sorry, guys. I'm really a real nuisance to you."
Before they could respond, a tall, blonde woman in a white coat entered the room, looking at them sternly.
"There can't be more than one person with the patient," she informed them coolly. "Please wait outside."
Tired and hungry, the boys didn't protest, while Bill made no move to leave his seat. Naomi glanced at him, but when she saw he didn't get up, she gave up and left herself.
The doctor approached Belinda and asked her name, age, any medical conditions she had, and other information, which she wrote down on a piece of paper clipped to a clipboard.
He touched her forehead, listened to her breathing again, and then lifted the sheet covering her. Belinda was embarrassed to discover she was only wearing her underwear: someone had stripped her.
She tried to hold the sheet back to protect herself, but the woman smiled at her.
"I'll get you a hospital gown. Now, hold still, because I have to examine you." He gave her a quick check. "Did you take anything strange tonight?"
Bill's eyes widened in surprise and he stared at the two women in disbelief.
"What do you mean?" Belinda asked, confused.
"I don't know: pills, liquids, alcohol, smoked?"
"You mean drugs?" the girl replied, astonished. "No!"
"Eat or drink anything different than usual?"
"No, I don't think so..."
The doctor paused at the red spot on her shoulder, leaning down to examine her more closely. "Do you have any allergies?"
"Not that I know of. Why?"
"This blister isn't normal. Wait, let's do a blood test."
Before she could protest, a needle entered the vein in her other arm and drew blood.
"I'll run a series of quick tests. Tell me, are you still nauseous?"
"No... Strangely, it's going away," Belinda observed.
"It's the medication we're giving you through the IV that's alleviating the symptoms. You'll see, you'll feel better very soon."
She gathered up the papers and her instruments and was about to leave, but then her gaze fell on Bill, who was looking at her seriously, and asked, "Should we do a pregnancy test too?"
Belinda's eyes widened and she gasped: pregnancy test?
"I don't know... Should we do one?" he muttered uncomfortably.
The doctor burst out laughing, shaking her head. "If you don't know, my girl!" He walked away, leaving her in complete confusion.
Belinda turned to look at the boy beside her, who had assumed a stiff posture, his lips and eyes narrowed.
Oh, Mom! she thought. What the hell is happening? Is it possible that...?
"Bel..." he began in a very strange voice, but a nurse's voice outside the door urged the boys to leave the hospital, saying that the patient needed to rest. She entered with a shirt for her and pushed him away, allowing only Naomi to remain.
Bill stood there in the back of the room, shaking his head and mimicking the phone with his hands, while she nodded.
In the distance, all she heard was Tom, loudly asking in surprise, "Is Bel pregnant?"
With a confused and surprised expression, she looked at her sister, who blushed.
"Sorry, I was worried and I eavesdropped," she explained.
She shook her head, increasingly confused. Pregnant? But it wasn't possible! It couldn't be, especially since they had taken precautions...
A sudden sweat covered her, bringing back the urge to run, but the nurse came back to help her put on her shirt, and she had to control herself. She simply asked to be taken to the bathroom, and, with great difficulty, fighting the dizziness, she soon returned to bed.
She thanked the woman and felt sorry for her sister, forced to stay in a chair to keep her company.
"Linda, can it be true?" Naomi asked, sighing.
"No, I don't think so... Although, I couldn't swear to it." She shook her head. "What the hell do I do now?"
"Let's wait for the test results and try to rest: your face is so white!"
But Belinda's head refused to rest. She closed her eyes, trying to stress her sister out and allow her to recover from the shock, while her mind continued to try to process what was happening.
She couldn't believe it: a child! To her, at that moment... The mere thought was driving her crazy!
But it wasn't about whether she liked children or not, but about what Bill would think. She remembered his face moments before, when the doctor had floated the idea: he looked like he was about to die instantly.
What if he believed she'd done it on purpose? That she'd taken advantage of his momentary fragility to trap him in a relationship?
She froze at the thought and let out a silent groan, pulling the sheet higher.
About an hour passed before the phone vibrated, and even though she'd been waiting for it, she jumped anyway. She glanced at her sister, who had curled up like a kitten in the chair and fallen asleep instantly.
Looking at the screen, she saw Bill's name and, sighing, answered.
"Hi." Her voice was unsure.
"Hey."
She imagined him sitting in her room, in the dark, scanning the shadows on the walls, searching for the words to say to her.
"How are you?" she asked.
"I should be asking you, don't you think?" was his response. "I'm not the one in the hospital."
"Do you have a backup question?" She tried to joke, even though her voice was a little hysterical.
"Really, Bel, how are you?"
Belinda didn't answer and just stared at the emergency room light shining in the darkness beyond the window.
"I wish I could have stayed there with you, you know that, right?" Bill continued, not hearing her reply.
"But it wasn't possible. And besides, you just gave a concert, you're tired..."
"No, I'm not tired, I just..."
"Upset?" she finished the sentence, her voice low.
"Confused. I'm confused, that's all."
"Well, if it helps, I'm bordering on crazy." She sighed, her voice shaking. "My goodness, Bill. I didn't mean to get in your way, and I'm causing you a lot of trouble, damn me and whoever I was in your life for!"
"Why do you say that? I'm glad you're here! Stop apologizing for everything that happens."
"And you think everything that happens to me is normal? How many girlfriends have you had that you had to save from nightmares, hysterics, and fainting spells in a month?"
She heard him sigh on the other end of the line.
"What I've never found is someone as stubborn as you… except my brother, of course. And look, girls having hysterics and fainting spells are the order of the day for me. Have you forgotten my charm?"
Belinda tried to laugh, but only a small sob came out. He was trying to calm her down, but she only had one thought.
She braced herself.
"Bill, do you think I did it on purpose?"
"No… I think it's your sister's fault," the boy murmured.
"Huh? What are you talking about?" she stammered in surprise.
"The stress of the trip, the concert, the stage…"
"That's not what I meant. I was talking about what the doctor said…"
"Ah… that."
"Yes, that, Bill, damn it!" she blurted out. "I don't think it's possible, but I can't help but think about it! You think I'm trying to set you up?"
"No!"
That word warmed her like a soft blanket on a cold winter night. The chill she felt shattered like glass shot through by a bullet, and hot tears ran down her cheeks.
"Bel, listen to me... Damn the nurse!" the boy burst out, his voice trembling with anger. "Listen, I'm coming over, we need to talk!"
"No, please! Don't get upset, I don't want any more trouble," she replied, sniffling.
"I can't think of you there, like I saw you, lost in that bed crying like that. I know you by now, you can think the most horrible thoughts in the world! How can you think such things? Damn, Bel, you're a real horror movie queen."
"Must have been the bad company..." she muttered, trying to soothe Bill's anger.
"I have no doubt about that, given the people you hung out with," he grumbled bitterly. "Listen to me, you stubborn bastard! Never, I swear, never, not for a moment did I think you wanted to take advantage of my popularity, my money, or my position. If anything, I know you hate all that stuff. Do you believe me?"
"Yes, I believe you... I really am a horrible person, Bill!" she replied with a sob.
"No, you're just someone who's suffered and doesn't expect much from life, but that doesn't mean something good can't happen to you, you know?"
"No," the girl muttered.
Bill snorted. "But what am I supposed to do with you? Just when I think things are starting to work out, you suddenly erase all my certainties! You can't do this to me; I can't keep up with all your mental contortions."
"Actually, I've never been normal..."
"You know, Bel..." Bill's voice was very low. "When I saw you faint, I felt terrible. I thought it was my fault you were sick. Because of our concert, you were so tired and you didn't even get the glory you deserved. I was so damn selfish!"
"That's not true, don't be silly!" she protested, wiping her eyes. "I like what I'm doing and I'm proud to be with you... I don't care about the glory, Bill! I... for me, it's a way to feel... part of your world!"
A gasp came from the other end of the line, and she pressed the phone harder to her ear: how much she wanted to hug him and feel that what he was saying was true!
"I'm coming to you!" Bill said suddenly, and the connection went dead.
Belinda remained still, listening to the emptiness of the signal.
She slowly placed the phone on the nightstand, the three words still echoing in her head.
I'm coming to you!
Bill was running to her, reaching out to her because he wanted to be close to her… this couldn't be true! She was the one who wanted to hear him talk, hear his laugh, see his sullen faces when she teased him, or those deep glances that shook her from head to toe. Not Bill, not him…
At the same time, a pleasant sensation enveloped her, making her feel protected, made her feel… loved.
She closed her eyes and let that feeling expand, while hot tears continued to fall onto the sheet, just as the IV continued to drip from the bottle hanging on the stand.