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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2323943-Take-a-Deep-Breath
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by Sleepy Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Short Story · Drama · #2323943
Panic clawed at his throat as he gasped for air. Where is his inhaler?
“Greyson, stop it.” Milo begged, his unease breathing followed by his staggering footsteps kicking up the sand.

“Why should I?” He laughed, a dumb, smug smirk laying across his features.

“It’s all an act, isn’t it? Come on man, just admit it. Admit it to everyone right here, right now. Say it!” Greyson egged him on, holding his inhaler high in the air out of reach.

“Greyson, he doesn’t look too well, maybe you should give it back.” Richard chimed in, his hands defensively up at chest, picking at the cuticles of his fingers, nervously glancing at Milo’s ever paling face.

“No, give him a minute, he’s fine.” Swooping his hair to the side, he couldn’t help but smile. Knowing he was right was a euphoric feeling at best. “You see, my brother used to pretend he had asthma, used to say it was in his legs. Nowadays he doesn’t even use the stupid thing.”

Milo wheezed a bit, faltering as he attempted to reach for his inhaler again. His hand was against his chest, his neck muscles straining hard against belief. He hunched his shoulders, trying to catch his breathing, only spewing out coughs.

After the last couple of laps around the field, he was having trouble breathing. Couch Brady, having walked off to get his clipboard, left him defenseless against the cruelties of teenage boys. Only moments ago, his inhaler was in hand before being snagged away by local punk Greyson Dillard.

A couple yards away Marcus walked with Michael and Sophia. He chatted up a storm while Sophia held Michaels hand. Fresh out of practice, Marcus was drenched in sweat with a water bottle in hand. Due to his coaches needing to start practice earlier than normal, he and Michael were going to watch Milo practice.

Their seasons overlapped, since Marcus was in Track and Milo played baseball, starting season always began around february. Usually their activities end around the same time, so they meet up to walk home, but today particularly, Marcus started early, and Milo started late.

“No, you don’t get it Michael- just listen, just listen” Marcus said, waving his hands around as he frantically tried to describe the different layers of cake. “The cream must go between! Otherwise it's dry! It's dry Michael!!” Marcus stressed, while Sophia covered her lips to suppress a laugh.

That's when her eyes landed on it. A sight she wasn’t expecting to see. The closer they walked the more she could make out. She felt.. wrong about what she saw, so she tapped Michaels shoulder, his gaze drifting over to her. Her cheeks flushed a shade of pink as she looked up at him confused. Instead of getting his attention, she got a kiss on the forehead. “No baby, look.” Running her hand across his face, she took a light hold at his chin, directing his eyes towards Milo slowly falling to the ground.

His expression hardened. It took only a second before he tried to get Marcus’s attention. “Marcus,” he said softly at first, watching him continue to rant, now about the moisture of cake. “No- because it's too dry then it's not satisfying in the mouth, you know? How do I say.. Like tres leches, so moist, so good!” Michaels hand tightened around Sophia’s. “Marcus.” This time he heard the tone shift, his mouth closing mid sentence. “Sorry, didn’t know you didn’t like tres leches like that. Must be in the lactose intolerant gang huh?” Holding back an eye roll, Michael pointed to the side. “Look to your right.” He said over aggressively.

About to mock him and make a scene, Marcus’s eyes landed on Milo. He had expected Milo to be running around, or just getting a drink from his water bottle, maybe even talking with the others, but what he wasn’t expecting to see was Milo on the floor wheezing. It was as if his feet started to move on their own. Was Milo getting bullied? Why didn’t he say anything?

Michael and Sophia followed close behind as Marcus charged ahead. Greyson tantalizingly held the inhaler around Milo’s face, close enough to be right in reach but far enough that he couldn’t do anything about it.

“What are you doing! Leave him alone.” Marcus shouted from the side of the field, quick to be right up in Greyson’s personal space. “Calm down man, no need to lose your balls.” He laughed as a couple others joined in. “I’m just showing everyone here that bug boys inhaler is just an excuse to get out of our exercises.” At the mention of an inhaler, Marcus connected the dots and rushed over to Milo. “Call 911.” He sat Milo up, listening to his breathing, trying to see just how he could help. “Sophia, call 911!” Marcus said, turning his attention to the redhead who frantically pulled out her phone.

Murmurs within the group started to rise, a small circle starting to form around Marcus and Milo. Marcus grew increasingly worried as Milo’s lips purpled in color. “Hand it back!” When nobody moved, he raised his voice. “Since you need this to be spelled out for you, he can’t breathe! I don’t know where the fuck you come from that you think this is ok, but hand it back before I take it back.” The boys around him seemed to get visually scared at Milo’s worsening state, shoving Greyson, poking and prodigy him, trying to get him to hand it back.

“Greyson, what the hell are you doing kid!” Brady called from behind the bundle of boys. Taking the inhaler from his hands he rushed over to Milo, holding the inhaler to his mouth, giving him two puffs. “I leave for less than five minutes and find you hovering over Milo like a vulture. What were you thinking!?” You could hear the stress in his voice. “Did someone call 911?” He looked around the group until Sophia spoke up. “I did, I’m on the phone with the operator now.”

“Thank you my dear.” Brady sighs, eyes floated back to Milo, trying to get him to talk and respond. “Go to the locker room.” He said, his voice booming. “You better not leave until I get back. Is that understood?” Even though Marcus wasn’t the one being reprimanded, he felt the fire Brady spit. Collectively there was a, “yes coach” before the boys shuffled off, quietly talking amongst themselves. “And coach West will be in there! When you get there, I want you to be silent. Or I will know.”

Soon the sirens rang loud in the air. Marcus supported Milo’s body weight. He had shuffled around to the back of him when coach Brady stepped in. Marcus knew basic first aid from his mother but let Brady take the lead since he had done sports medicine and was better trained in that field.

Milo was taken off the field and placed in the back of an ambulance. Michael stood at Sophia’s side, one hand wrapped around her waist while they watched Brady join the EMTs. Marcus soon joined the two, standing to the right of Michael, eyes glued to the ambulance that sped away.
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