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I stare at Malia as her hands tremble so violently that she spills the pills she was trying to tip into the palm. They rattle to the floor of the boat and she curses.
I pull on my shorts and ask carefully, “Are you okay?”
She’s so shaken, I don’t want to make things worse.
“Y-yes.” She sucks in a breath, holds it and releases it on a shaky sigh. “Sorry. I just…I need…my meds are overdue.”
I frown. I know all about her ‘meds’. Well, as much as Reef knows about them, which isn’t a lot. He told us that the doc was also unable to identify Malia’s plethora of medication and that for the time being at least, it was safest not to interfere with whatever medication the hospital has her on. The doc wants us to swipe some of her meds to get them to her for testing, and even though now would be the perfect opportunity to grab some, I don’t.
Malia is my focus.
Even though we want to get to the bottom of this and we all agree her diagnosis is bullshit and the tablets are most likely making things worse.
Looking at her now though, I’m not so sure.
She’s really freaked out. And if taking those tablets helps her to feel calmer, then I’m all for it.
I just hope she’s not freaking out because of what we just did. It would gut me if I’m the reason she feels this way. So…out of control.
“Can I do anything?”
“Can you grab me a drink? I suck at swallowing pills. You'd think with this many to take that I’d be used to it by now, but I’m not.” I blink at her, amazed at her ability to force a humourless joke from her lips when she’s so freaked out. She doesn’t need to do that. Not with me.
I want to tell her so, to assure her she doesn’t need to pretend and act normal with me, but I don’t want to make things worse.
“Sure.”
I reach into the cooler and pull out a fresh bottle of water. I didn’t know if Malia was a big drinker or not, so I packed a small selection of beverages for tonight. So far, all either of us have touched is water, which is more than fine by me. Until a couple of minutes ago, the night was so perfect I didn’t need alcohol to enhance it. I got the impression Malia felt the same way.
She calms enough to take the tablets and then lets out a sigh. The tension leaving her is visible. I wish I could help her, rather than having her rely on those tablets for stability and peace.
I pull her into my arms and she settles, instantly. I’m glad I can give her comfort at least and that she’s not pushing me away. Maybe it wasn’t the sex that triggered her freak out.
“Want to talk about it?”
“I didn’t take my meds earlier,” she tells me softly, her voice full of regret and dripping in guilt. “I felt so good and was so excited for our date. I just didn’t feel like I needed them.”
My heart leaps at her words but I force myself to stay calm and listen, even though I really want to encourage her to stop taking them.
“I brought them along with me to take later if I needed them.”
“What would happen if you didn’t take them?” I ask.
“I’d freak out. It’s hard to say how bad things would be, but in the past I’ve had…auditory hallucinations.”
“Like, hearing voices in your head?”
“Yeah. But…oh god, you’re going to think I’m insane if I tell you this—”
“I would never,” I tell her emphatically.
“I used to think I could hear people’s thoughts. So I wasn’t just hearing voices in my head, but thought I was reading minds or something.” She laughs, but it’s horrible and forced and it makes me equal parts angry and sad.
I don’t think she’s crazy at all.
“And what happened just now to make you freak out? That reaction was too extreme for someone who just remembered they forgot to take a couple of tablets.”
“It happened.”
