I raise the sandwich to my mouth and take a bite. Peanut butter and grape jelly. “I hope it’s okay,” you say. “I can make something else if it’s not.” I’ve resolved to act like your best friend in the world until you let me loose, and I can get the hell out of here. “It’s actually one of my favorites from when I was a kid. I loved PB&J’s all warm and gushy from my lunchbox.” “You want another?” You gesture toward the bag of bread, jar of peanut butter and squeeze bottle of jelly on the nightstand. “Yes, please. I’m starving.” You laugh and reach for the bread. “You should be. You haven’t eaten in over two days.”I gasp and choke. You pat my back and grab the bottle of water. I chug it and cough a few more times. “How long was I out?”“Since Friday night. It’s Monday afternoon.”I drop my sandwich and grip your arm. “You have to let me call my mom. She’ll be having a nervous breakdown by now.”You take my hand and hold it between both of yours.
