I didn’t know what time of day it was. “How did you . . . ?” I rubbed my eyes. I couldn’t remember if I’d called him or not. “Tasha messaged me on Facebook. She told me what happened. Said you could use some support.” That was Tasha—always sticking her nose in. But I had to admit, it was good to see White Chris. I should’ve contacted him myself. “Thought you might be hungry.” He handed me a bag of chips and a bottle of Pepsi. “Thanks.” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten anything. I shoved some chips into my mouth. He looked at me with his good eye. “How is she?” “There are all these complications. They want to keep her in a coma.” Even as I said it, it didn’t feel real. “How are you holding up?” “When I know she’s okay, I’ll be okay. That’s all.” “Take care of yourself, Darren. The last thing she needs to wake up to is a smelly boyfriend.” I raised my eyebrows. “I stink?” “Let’s put it this way: Eau Sauvage doesn’t smell better on the third day.
