She Regretted Stealing My Insulin

Selene Winters snatched my phone out of my hand and hit the end‑call button without a second thought.

Annoyance twisted her face into something sharp and ugly. "Julian, are you serious right now? How old are you? And you're still whining to your mom?"

She stuffed my phone into her own pocket and let out a cold, mocking laugh. "You really think that just because you made a phone call, that mom of yours who works in the mountains is going to swoop in and back you up? Stop embarrassing yourself."

What she didn't know was that the woman who worked in the mountains she mocked was actually the owner of this entire scenic area.

The whole mountain belonged to our family.

My vision pulsed and dimmed. The nausea and dizziness from my blood sugar spike rolled over me like a wave, threatening to pull me under.

Selene's best guy friend, Adrian Lancaster, stood beside her with his usual careless grin, ready to pile on. "Selene, I told you already. Your guy loves to scheme."

He pointed at me with exaggerated disbelief. "Look at him. He ate one energy bar and now he's pretending to be weak just so you'll feel sorry for him. Bet he wants you to hold his hand all the way down the mountain."

He wagged a finger. "But hey, let's get this straight. You two can flirt all you want, but don't waste everyone else's time. If you ditch us later for your boyfriend, I'm not going easy on you when we drink tonight."

Selene let out a laugh. "Please. With your alcohol tolerance, you belong at the kids' table."

"Says you. Tonight, I'm proving you wrong."

They shoved each other, laughing too loudly and too close, tangled up without a hint of boundaries.

It wasn't the first time. Back when Selene first introduced me to her friends, Adrian had been there too. The moment he saw me, he greeted me with an overly enthusiastic smile and pulled me into a tight hug.

"So, you're Julian! Selene never shuts up about you. Good to finally meet you in person! You look even better than the photos!"

His tone was friendly, but his eyes skimmed me from head to toe with sharp, evaluative precision.

When we sat down, he made sure to speak loud enough for the table to hear. "Julian, you showed up all dressed up for a casual hangout? Bold move. Very manly."

He chuckled. "But we're a wild bunch. Once we start playing games, try not to get that outfit dirty. Me? I can't do that. I stick to jeans everywhere. Low‑maintenance and practical."

His words drew a round of laughter, as if showing up neatly dressed for a friends' gathering were some bizarre, out-of-place thing.

I could feel his subtle hostility toward me, and I also knew I'd probably never fit into Selene's circle of friends. But every time I tried to talk about how I felt, Selene would accuse me of being petty.

"Adrian's just a goof. He's blunt, but he means well. Try being more easygoing, okay? I'm introducing you to my friends so you'll get along with them, not so you'll get jealous. You acting like this just makes me look bad."

To prove that my bias was all in my head, she even forced me to join this hiking trip. And now, the "harmless" goof was watching me writhe on the ground with amused interest.

Selene nudged my leg with her shoe, irritated. "Enough. Stop pretending. Get up. You're slowing everyone down."

The complications from my high blood sugar left my whole body weak, and every breath felt like it was burning.

I grabbed her pant leg with the last of my strength, my voice scraping out of my throat. "My meds… Give me my insulin, please… I can't breathe…" I gasped, my lungs tightening.