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The morning after a wildfire is the worst kind of morning, in my opinion. The air is heavy with smoke, and it burns my lungs to the point that my whole chest is heaving from the effort of taking a single breath. It has always been like that, as far as I am aware. Sometimes, my lungs just don't work right.
But that is just how it is, so I would have to deal with it.
Normally, this wouldn't bother me. But today, I am supposed to hang with the boys, and I am all wheezy from the smoke. Bad breathing days happen, but I prefer to hide them. I don’t like the whistling noise my lungs make when I breathe or the cough that grates against my throat. It's not good for my image.
Everyone has bad breathing days–mine are just particularly bad, and I'd rather not bother anyone with something so common. I could deal with it on my own.
Still, I wish I came up with an excuse to stay home today. Instead, I am huffing and puffing my way up Noah's driveway, taking slow, shallow breaths that barely fill my chest. I choke on a hefty patch of smoke right as I knock on the door, my throat itching to start a coughing fit.
I’m not going to let that happen, though. Ordinary people don't let themselves fall into coughing fits.
Noah opens the door, his hair tied up in a bun–although most of it has fallen out, and the culprit is curled up in his arms. Nikita's little fingers wrap around strands of black, and her grumpy face twists up as if Noah killed her entire family. She looks at me and lets out an indignant little squawk, ever offended by my presence.
"Hey, man." Noah greets, and he gives me the usual bro slap of welcome. "Everyone else is inside. What took you so long?"
I wrinkle my nose as I step inside the house and get to work unlacing my boots. "Smoke's bad today." I won't let myself pause to breathe between words, because I don’t want anyone to know my bad breathing day is that bad, so my words come out tense and forced.
Noah looks back outside and groans, closing the door. "Dude, I know. Nik's been complaining all day. I think she hates the smell." Noah pats her little back and heads back over to the couch, where Jamie, Aiden, Raj, and Ripley are all waiting.
I follow behind, breathing slowly to hide the slight whistle in my throat. The others greet me normally, but Jamie takes one look at does a double-take.
“Holy shit, Ralph, are you good?”
This prompts everyone to turn and take another look. I shift on my feet, letting out a heavy breath disguised as a sigh. “I don’t know what you–”
“Jamie’s right, man, what’s up? You look like you say a ghost or something,” Aiden adds helpfully.
Raj nods gravely. “You’re super pale, brother. Do you need anything? Water? Food? When was the last time you ate.”
“It’s not that, it’s just–”
“Ralph, are you going to fall over? Because I will not be responsible for catching you, if you do.” Ripley crosses his arms over his chest and leans back on the couch.
“Oh my–It’s fine, guys, the smoke is just messing with my breathing.” I run my fingers through my hair and drop down in the vacant seat next to the couch, under all of their watchful eyes.
Jamie blinks, and shifts in his spot next to Aiden. “Does that… happen a lot?”
Noah hums and shifts the baby in his arms, who is starting to get slightly fussy. “Nah, I get it. Smoke’s thick as hell. It smells rancid out there.”
Jamie frowns. “It doesn’t sound like it’s a problem with the smell.”
I click my tongue and sit back.”Relax. It’s just the same problem everyone has.” I suppress a cough with minimal success, the sharp wheeze that accompanies it punctuating my statement. I clear my throat and take a deep breath, trying to will some of the oxygen into my lungs, but it doesn’t work.
“Yeah, that wheeze sounds very normal,” Jamie says, and I huff gruffly.
“You kinda sound like–Ralph, do you have any breathing problems?” Aiden tilts his head to the side.
I let out a sharp laugh. “What? Of course not, everyone deals with this. It’s just bad because of the smoke.” The tickle in my throat returns, and I swallow. I don’t want to have a coughing fit in front of them, and one poorly suppressed cough is all it takes to start.
The group blinks, and they all share a look.
“Um. That doesn’t sound normal, dude.” Ripley breaks the silence first.
“I can’t remember the last time smoke fucked my breathing that bad. It’s annoying, sure, but I can breathe through it.” Noah adds.
“Have you ever gone to a doctor about this?” Raj asks, raising an eyebrow.
“What? Of course no–” My words are cut off by my own wheezing because in my surprise I forgot to keep suppressing the scratching cough building in my throat. Suddenly, I’m hunched over, unable to get any words out, coughing up an entire lung. Every cough is punctuated by a long, thick, scraping wheeze.
It’s not long before Jamie and Aiden spring into action. Aiden runs to the kitchen, and Jamie presses something small into my hand.
“Take this.” Jamie closes my hand around the object he placed there, and I realize a moment too late that it’s a fucking inhaler. But the coughing one stop, and I don’t have any hot water to help ease my throat back open, and it’s looking more and more like I don’t have a fucking choice–
“ Take it ,” Jamie insists, and shows me what to do.
I know that I’m not in a position to protest, so I do.
Moments after the first puff, the coughing slows to a dull wheeze. After the second, I can tell that my chest is opening back up. For the first time, I take a breath in, and I get some actual air.
Aiden reappears at that moment with a steaming mug of plain, hot water, and I take it gratefully.
“Jesus Christ,” I huff once I can find my voice again, each word punctuated with a sharp breath. “That one was special.”
“Does that…” Jamie and Aiden exchange a look. “Ralph, does that happen a lot?”
I shrug. “Only on bad breathing days.”
“Bad breathing days,” Aiden repeats.
“Yeah, everyone has them. That’s what Mom told me.”
“Oh, honey, no.” Jamie presses his fingers to his lips.
“ Jesus , Ralph, do to a doctor!” Ripley gasps out.
Noah’s hand is placed firmly over his chest. “I thought you were dying, man!”
I wave my hand at them dismissively. “Alright, alright, I’ll ask someone about it. But I’m pretty sure this is normal.” I pass the inhaler back to Jamie, but he exchanges a glance with Aiden and pushes it back toward me.
“Um. You can keep that one. It’s my backup. Use it on your bad-breathing days. It will help.”
“I really don’t think that’s necessary.”
“Please?”
I groan at his obvious puppy eyes. “You’re so annoying,” I complain as I sip at my hot water, finally feeling my throat start to loosen up.
But I slip the inhaler into my pocket anyway.