Page 31 of Wild

Mia watches from the stage and feels something like jealousy tighten behind her ribs. She isn't jealous of her friend, but of the fact that Erin smiles at him and seems to genuinely like him, that she's warm with him while she keeps her distance with Mia at all times. She often wonders if she should have played it differently, if going after Erin Dooley so blatantly was a mistake, and whether a subtler approach might have gotten a different result—but there's nothing she can do about it now, because Erin has been very clear: Mia doesn't interest her beyond her medical chart.

As if thinking about her condition had summoned the symptoms, Mia starts to notice that her legs feel weaker and her vision blurs for a fraction of a second that leaves her disoriented. Without being fully aware of what she's doing, she slows her steps to steady herself and tries to focus straight ahead to get her vision back, but by then she's already caught the doctor's attention, and Erin drops her notepad and runs toward the stage without caring that she's breaking up the dancers' choreography.

"Kill the music, Noah," she orders as she reaches Mia, leaving the guy—who was coming back with the coffees—frozen for a few seconds. "And everybody out."

"What are you doing?" Mia asks when Erin wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her against her body, afraid she might collapse at any moment.

"Look at me." Erin cups her chin with one hand. "Can you walk?"

Mia is confused. Part of her is still onstage thinking about what she's supposed to be doing, and the other part is disoriented.

"Yeah, I don't—"

She stops when the weakness in her legs gets worse and her blue eyes lose focus. Erin holds her firmly and lowers her to the floor until she manages to lay her down. By then the dancers arefiling out, Noah has stopped the music, and he's standing by the door, scared, waiting to see if the doctor needs help.

"Don't stop looking at me, Wilder," Erin says, lifting her legs to force blood toward her brain.

Mia's mouth falls open and her breathing becomes unsteady. Fear is flooding through her, but she's still conscious, and Erin needs to use that to keep her mind from shutting down.

"Noah, get over here!" she calls, and the assistant is at her side in barely three seconds. "Keep her legs in this position."

He does as he's told and takes his place at Mia's feet, holding her legs elevated at about a forty-degree angle.

"Mia," Erin murmurs, kneeling at her side and leaning forward.

She places one hand on her cheek and uses the other to take the singer's hand, which is already curled in a tight fist that she covers with her palm.

"I need you to keep squeezing your fists, honey, and tighten your abs and your glutes too. Can you try?"

She moves the hand from Mia's cheek to her stomach and rests it there to check whether Mia can follow her instructions or whether her mind is already about to shut off. She feels a faint trembling against her palm and leans in closer.

"That's it, you're doing great—keep pushing."

Erin catches a shadow behind her shoulder and turns her head for a second to see that Nell is there, her face white with shock. Mia's eyes fill with tears and they start streaming down both sides of her face as panic takes over completely, but she's still conscious. Erin got there in time, and what she's doing is working.

"Keep going, sweetheart," she whispers, "keep squeezing and look at me."

The singer's blue eyes, still half out of focus, blink, and her pupils search for Erin as if she's the beacon she needs to find herway. Erin exhales when she feels them lock on her, and then she moves one of Mia's hands to her chest the same way she did last time.

"Now try to breathe with me, slow."

Mia's hand trembles the same way her chin does, and even then she doesn't break eye contact with Erin, as if she's anchored to her and that's what's keeping her awake.

"Erin…" Mia murmurs, still frightened and a little dizzy.

"I'm right here, honey," she whispers slowly. "You're okay, Mia—keep breathing with me."

Barely blinking, legs still elevated, the singer manages it. She matches her rhythm to Erin's, focused on the steady heartbeat she can feel against her palm.

"Bring her feet down. Rest them on the floor and keep her legs bent," Erin tells Noah, who obeys very slowly.

"I don't feel good," Mia murmurs, still pale.

"I know, but it's over now." Erin brushes the hair from her forehead. "Can you hold on to my neck? I want you to drink some water."

She leans down until the strands of her ponytail fall to one side of her neck and graze Mia's, who stretches her arms up and closes them behind the doctor's nape.

"Ready?" Erin asks, her cheek almost brushing Mia's.