Page 47 of Goldilocks

“Did I?”

Eric’s brow creased. “Am I an uncool older brother or something?” He directed the question between the two of them. “I’m not allowed to know the fun things?”

“You’re super cool,” Laurence answered immediately. “But Sam’s right. It’s on the water. If you don’t like the ocean, you won’t like this.”

“I can like the ocean,” Eric said. Stiff and unconvincing.

Sam rolled his eyes. “If you ever tell me that in a believable way, I’ll show you.”

“Laurence, darling,” Sally called.

Laurence leapt to his feet. “Be right back.”

Sam watched Laurence trot away, and when his attention returned to Eric, he found him frowning into his soup, muttering about how he wasn’tuncoolunder his breath. Sam ducked his head, trying not to smile. Eric used to sit Sam on his lap when they’d paint together, asking. “I’m the best, right?” Yes. “I’m the best brother ever, right?” Yes. “You love me, right?” Yes. “I love you too. Do you want juice? I’ll get you juice.”

Sam’s smile faded. He lowered his spoon as his stomach turned. Pain and pressure building suddenly behind his eyes.

Eric’s hand covered Sam’s on the table. “You just went pale. Are you okay?”

“Headache,” was all Sam could manage.

“Ivan is just outside. I can grab him. Hang on.”

Sam caught Eric’s wrist as he rose, squeezing so hard his fingers whitened. “Sit.” He waited until Eric lowered himself into his seat before digging out the pill bottle Mary had given him. The pill bottle that she’d specially ordered from the States since he went through so many and you could only buy packs of twelve in Irish stores. Sam shook out three, his vision hazy as he swallowed them down with half his remaining pint of MiWadi. The blackcurrant flavour didn’t erase the bitter taste of the pills but instead mixed with it in a nauseating fusion.

Sam shut his eyes and willed the headache away. He kept his grip on Eric’s wrist, making him wait too.

“Sam.” Eric’s voice was strained.

“A few minutes to kick in,” Sam said through gritted teeth. The sounds of the pub buzzed around them. Every clink of glass, every scrape of cutlery against ceramic, every cough and laugh was torture on his nerves. They were by the window, but Sam wished now that they’d sat outside. It was warm enough, and Sam wouldn’t have minded if it did start to rain on them like the clouds threatened.

His breath sawed in and out from his lungs, louder than the room’s aggravating noises.

“Is Ivan your backup?” Sam asked, his eyes still shut. He kept his head tilted down to hide his condition from the rest of the room. “In case I’m mean?”

“I don’t need backup to talk to you. And you’re not mean.” Eric’s tone was thin. Pained. As if he was the one with the headache. “Are you sure you don’t want his painkillers? They’re much stronger.”

“They wiped me out last time.”

The pills were slow kicking in, but gradually, the pressure lessened. Sam opened his eyes, blinking slowly.

“You need to go to the doctor.” Eric’s voice was low and tortured. “This isn’t okay.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “The headaches have been getting worse.”

With twitching fingers, Sam released Eric’s wrist. He leaned back in his seat with a shaky exhale. Sweat dampened his shirt to his chest, and Sam raised his gaze to see Eric’s eyes wide and green.

Laurence came back to the table, reclaiming his seat with a smile. And with his presence, the conversation picked up again, easy and smooth.

Until Eric got all shifty, eyes not quite settling on Sam’s face, alerting him to the fact that an unwanted question was about to crop up. “Has everything been alright at college?” he asked tentatively.

Had Mary told Eric about those supposed emails?

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“That guy hasn’t given you any more trouble, has he?” Eric asked quickly. His eyes settled on Sam’s cheek.

“Oh.” Sam relaxed a bit. He wasn’t talking about schoolwork. “No. He’s not come near me.” Honestly, the punch felt like a world away now.