by Linda Kage
Zoey’s green eyes widened. “Wow.”
I nodded in agreement and glanced across the campus at all the people milling by, and the trees sprouting flowers and leaves...at life abounding. “I love knowing her heart is still out there, beating. Giving someone else a second chance.”
Zoey bobbed her head too, and then quickly dashed a tear off her cheek. “It is pretty amazing.”
“That’s when I knew I wanted to be a part of that process. I wanted to put hearts into people who needed them.”
It took me a second to realize she was no longer next to me. But when I glanced over for her reaction, she was gone. “Zo—?” I turned back to realize she’d stopped in her shoes and was staring at me as if I’d lost my mind. “What’s wrong?” I immediately backtracked to her and took her elbow. “Are you okay?”
She moved her head up and down in a robotic kind of way but continued to stare at me with slightly parted lips and wide eyes. Finally, she said, “You want to transplant organs.”
“Yeah.” I furrowed my brow, wondering what was wrong with that.
Then her entire face bloomed into a sudden smile, telling me there was absolutely nothing wrong with it. “I think that’s amazing.” She began walking again before she bumped her elbow into mine. “And you say you’re in awe of my dream to be a writer. You want to save lives, Quinn. That’s impressive.”
She hadn’t said becoming a writer was her dream earlier. She’d said it was just a hobby she dabbled in, but I’m glad she let it slip now. I liked learning more about her.
I let her words settle in my head a bit before I said, “I may want to save lives, but art, like the stories you want to write...that’s the kind of stuff that makes life worth living.”
When Zoey looked at me this time, something powerful fisted into a knot at the base of my stomach. “What?” I asked softly, needing to know what she was thinking more than I needed my next breath.
She shook her head as if she wasn’t going to tell me, and then she murmured, “I was always scared to tell people about my writing. Everyone would say it’s silly and stupid and tell me to get a real dream, but…when you say things like that, it makes it feel…” She shrugged and glanced away with a far-off look. “Almost important.”
“But you are.” I wanted to touch her, shift the hair out of her face, slide my fingers up her cheek, and press my forehead to hers. My guts actually ached because I held myself back. But I was even too afraid to hold her hand, so I shoved my fists into my pockets. “We all have paranoid moments where we think everything we do is silly and stupid, or completely inconsequential. But stories are a way to connect with others and realize we’re not alone in our crazy, mixed-up thoughts. I think what you do is important. It keeps introverted people like me from going insane.”
Tears glistened in her eyes as she smiled up at me. But I didn’t hug her. No, I did not. And I didn’t kiss her. I didn’t grab her hand, yank her around the corner of the nearest building, or take her against the first wall we came across. No matter how insistent some of my urges were, I managed to hold back.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Even though I didn’t do any of the things I craved, I still felt completely satisfied in that moment. Because I’d made Zoey smile.
The apartment was quiet when I let myself inside after class. I thought I was home alone until I heard a strange sound down the hall. Immediately apprehensive, I froze.
It took a couple seconds for my vocal chords to work up the courage and function before I could hesitantly call out. “Hello? Cora?”
“Back here,” I thought I heard her answer.
Unease prickled the back of my neck, so I dropped my book bag to the floor and hurried down the hall and into her room. I heard the vomiting from her bathroom as soon as I entered.
“Oh, no.” Dashing past her bed, I flew toward the opened doorway and skidded to a halt in the entrance of the bathroom.
Cora sat on her knees in front of the toilet, her back arched up with the force of her heaves as she emptied her stomach.
“Cora!” My knees weakened and I almost landed beside her on the cool tile. But I managed to sit on the edge of the bathtub so I could gather her hair out of her face. “What’s happening? Are you okay?”
For a couple minutes, she was too busy to answer. I had to look away so I didn’t get sick myself, but the sound and the smell still turned my stomach, and I gagged more than once.
Tears were matted to Cora’s face as she came up for air. “I’m fine,” she finally said, wiping her cheeks clean. “It’s just nausea.”
Just nausea my butt. But I nodded and left her for a moment to fetch her a glass of water. When I returned, I watched her gulp the entire cup full.
“Could...” She had to pause to regain her voice before she asked, “Could you get my Nauzene in the bottom drawer next to my bed?”
She so rarely let me help her. Eager to do something, I stood up so fast I made the blood rush to my head. The dizziness blurred my vision for a moment before I could kneel beside her bottom drawer and pull it open.
I swear, the entire thing was filled with medicine, some prescriptions, some over the counter, and some vitamins. “My God,” I murmured, wondering how much of this she had to take every day.
Two minutes later, I still hadn’t found what she needed. She finally had to call, “The bottle’s in a white box, blue words.”
I spotted it seconds later and pulled it free. After shutting the drawer, I returned to the bathroom. I wanted to question and lecture her so bad.
She rarely followed any of her dietitian’s suggestions. And as often as I tried to feed her the right food, I really didn’t see her most of the day, so she could be eating anything when I wasn’t around. And I had no idea how much alcohol she drank.
“Go ahead,” she mumbled after she chewed and swallowed her pill.
I blew out a breath. “You’re not going to die, Cora,” I said, and then I shook my head because that was probably one of the worst things I could’ve said. But, really... “I’m here to help. This is going to pass. And the dialysis will be over soon. Just a couple more months and you’ll have a new kidney, and you won’t have to worry about any of this again. I know you said you wanted to live your life how you wanted because no one knew how long they had left, but not watching your diet is just going to make you miserable and maybe even delay things until you can get through this.”
Cora closed her eyes and bowed her head before pressing a palm to her temple. “I know,” she reluctantly admitted. “You’re right. I just...It’s easier to pretend nothing is wrong when I eat...whatever. And drink...whatever.”
“I know.” I cringed, wishing I could trade places with her, even just for a day so she could get a little escape. Just a small respite. “But—”
Down the hall, someone knocked on the front door. A second later, a familiar voice called, “Hello? Cora?”
Cora and I exchanged a glance, mine begging her to finally just confess everything, hers pleading with me to keep silent.
I blew out a surrendering breath as footsteps drew near. Another knock fell outside her bedroom. “Cora?”
“In here,” I said. Cora sliced me with a lethal glare half a second before Quinn appeared in the bathroom’s opened doorway.
He took one look at his girlfriend still planted on the floor in front of the toilet and bolted inside.
“Oh my God. What happened? Are you okay?”
Cora shook her head and lifted a hand. “I’m fine. It’s nothing. Just...the flu, I think.”
Quinn landed on his knees beside her and instantly pressed his palm to her forehead. “You don’t have a fever. Does your stomach hurt?”
“It feels a lot better now.” Resting her cheek on his shoulder, she asked, “Could you carry me back to bed?”
“Of course.” Quinn scooped her up without a smidgeon of protest. When he turned her my way, I hurried out of the doorway to let them through.
Q
uinn met my gaze as he passed. I knew there was something in my expression that made him blink in confusion. Maybe it was the sympathy he didn’t see because I was too busy silently screaming at her to just tell him everything already. Maybe it how solemn I was, and he’d just figured out something was seriously wrong. Or maybe he just wanted me to leave.
That one I could do.
Because I couldn’t stand there and watch her lie to him. She obviously liked him taking care of her; she cuddled into him like a content kitten and closed her eyes with a small sigh as he tenderly tucked her into the sheets. So, why didn’t she just tell him?
“I’m going to set your nausea tablets here on top of the nightstand,” I said.
“Thanks,” Cora murmured weakly, and Quinn once again glanced at me, his gaze penetrating something so deep inside me I felt stripped bare.
A strange fear clutched me as a pale, stone-faced Zoey walked stiffly from Cora’s room. She looked...I don’t know. She looked shell-shocked. And Cora looked like death warmed over with bags under her eyes and her face flushed as if she did have a fever.
Something wasn’t right. And it was not the flu.
I sat next to Cora on her mattress and let her curl up with her head in my lap. Stroking her hair, I watched her close her eyes and breathe deeply, trying to fall asleep.
“Are you pregnant?” I finally asked.
Her eyes fluttered open and she scowled at me. “Why do guys always automatically assume a girl’s pregnant as soon as she upchucks?”
Okay, so she wasn’t pregnant. “Bulimia?” I asked next.
She sighed as if already exhausted by my interrogation. Then she closed her eyes without answering me.
I continued to sift my fingers through her hair. “I know this isn’t just the flu, Cora. You’ve continuously lost weight for as long as I’ve known you. Every day, you seem to get more fatigued. This is something so much more than a common cold.”
Keeping her eyes closed, she refused to answer me.
“You’re beautiful to me,” I tried again, “exactly how you are. Please don’t think you have to lose weight...for any reason.” I ran my finger down the center of her spine, feeling each dip and bump in her vertebrae.
Her lashes flickered open before she looked up at me. “I’m not bulimic,” was all she said.
I ground my teeth. “Then what are you?”
Again, she refused to answer, just stared at me as if I was an idiot for even bothering to ask. I didn’t understand what was going on, and I hated this. Couldn’t she see I only wanted to help her?
“Zoey knows,” I finally said. Why would she tell Zoey, and not me?
She sniffed and glanced away, pushing my hand off her head. “So you’re going to go hound Zoey until she gives up all my secrets?”
“No. I shouldn’t have to learn anything about my girlfriend from her roommate. I want you to tell me.” When she remained mute, I gnashed my teeth. “Why don’t you trust me?” I whispered, aching from the pit of my being.
“Trust?” She rolled her eyes. “Baby, this isn’t about trust. It’s about privacy. Why do you feel you have to know everything about me?”
Sucker punched right in the stomach, I pulled back and shook my head. “I don’t…” My tongue felt twisted in my mouth. I was going to start stuttering any second, so I glanced away and concentrated on breathing through my nose.
“Can’t you just be here for me and let me have my privacy?”
Silently, I nodded.
So, I sat there, just being with her, and I gave her privacy, even though it gutted a part of me. I stroked her hair, and stayed quiet so I wouldn’t irritate her with questions.
As soon as she fell asleep, I eased her head off my thigh and settled it gently on a pillow. She looked exhausted, though I knew she’d been getting enough sleep. Frustration, anger, and hurt raged through me, dueling for supremacy.
Strangely, the hurt won.
After I walked down the hall and saw Zoey sitting on the couch, watching an episode of Psych, I fell down on the cushion beside her. I didn’t say anything; I just stewed in my misery as I stared through the television screen, seeing nothing but Cora sitting on the floor of her bathroom in front of the toilet.
Visions of my time with my mother swirled through my head. The beatings, the boyfriends laughing at me for being a freak as they threw beer bottles at me whenever I’d race through the living room to get to the kitchen. Then high school. Never fitting in, always being on the outside.
When I’d first started seeing Cora, I thought I’d finally found a place to belong, someone to share all my thoughts and secrets with. But there was so much she refused to open up about. Sometimes, I still felt like I was on the outside, a freak who didn’t belong in her life.
Unable to control my bubbling emotions a second longer, I spun to face Zoey. Refusing to face me, she continued to stare at the television as the show played on with the volume low.
“Why won’t she just talk to me?” I blurted out, the anger in my voice hopefully blotting out the pain.
She sniffed and pulled her knees up to her chest so she could hug them. “I don’t know.” She kept staring at the television, and I hated that she wouldn’t look at me, either. “But I wish she would.”
So did I. Not only was Cora putting a strain on my relationship with her, but I think she was putting one on her relationship with Zoey too. Zoey looked strung tight enough to snap with the slightest nudge.
“Don’t worry,” I told her. “I’m not going to ask you.”
A tear slipped silently down her cheek. “Thank you.” She kept watching the show, though I’m pretty sure she also had no idea what was going on in it.
An urge rose inside me. I didn’t understand why it was suddenly so important to me, but I just needed to connect with someone...in any way possible. I needed to...I don’t even know. I needed to know someone understood me. Hell, I’d settled for just understanding someone else. I had to somehow feel tethered to the planet and not like some foreign being invading everyone else’s space.
So I asked, “Can I read one your stories?”
Zoey whirled to me, her green eyes wide. I expected her to tell me no, but she blushed. “You actually want to?”
Did I? I don’t know. I hadn’t even thought about it until just now. But the more I thought about it, the more I did want to. “Yes,” I said.
“I…” She flushed and ducked her face. “I don’t know. They’re not really—”
“Please.”
Her eyes went even wider until she almost seemed frightened. But I think the sincerity in my gaze finally won her over because she swallowed. “Okay.”
She stood up and glanced down to where I was still sitting. “They’re, uh…they’re in my room.” When she nervously tucked her hair behind her ear, I knew she wanted me to follow her. To her room.
I stood up. “Okay.”
I hadn’t been in her room since she’d moved in. It had the same pale blue walls and white bedding that had been in here before she’d come, but she’d managed to make the space her own. She had books and clothes and two stuffed teddy bears in the wicker chair in the corner. A row of shoes lined the foot of her bed, and the yellow scarf she’d worn to school last week was wrapped about her bedpost.
And it smelled like her.
I drew in a deep breath of wild cherry and orchid but stayed near the entrance as she moved forward to pull a spiral ring notebook from the white shelf over her bed.
But my curiosity got the best of me, and I moved closer. “Are all those full of stories?”
She nodded. “I don’t know why, but I have to write them by hand.”
“So you only have one copy? Don’t you worry about something...happening to them?”
She shrugged. “I plan to type them into the computer someday. But for now, I like them like this.”
She hadn’t handed the notebook over yet and was actually cradling it protectively to her chest. So I reached out my han
d. Her eyes lifted to mine. After a moment of hesitation, she finally gave it to me.
“Thank you,” I said, realizing how much she’d just put her trust in me. I felt honored. Now if only Cora had—
My girlfriend appeared in the doorway, her mussed hair sticking up around her head and a blanket wrapped around her shoulders like a cape.
I nearly jumped out of my skin.
“Cora!”
Cora glanced passively between Zoey and me, her bruised eyes sharp with censure. “Well, this is a sight no girl likes to see. Her boyfriend alone in her roommate’s bedroom.”
“I was showing him my stories,” Zoey blurted out at the very same moment I said, “She was showing me her stories.”
We glanced at each other and then broke out grinning together.
Cora growled. “Seriously, baby. What’re you doing in here?”
I’d never seen her jealous or so possessive of me before. It made my stomach churn with guilt as I wondered if she knew just how attracted I was to Zoey. “Seriously,” I answered. “I was borrowing one of her stories to read.” I cocked my head to the side. “What’re you doing awake again? Can’t you sleep? Do you need something?”
“No, I cannot sleep, okay? But, Quinn, just don’t.” She entered Zoey’s room and shuffled toward me. “I know you’re only trying to be your nice, gentlemanly self and act interested, but trust me, her cute little children’s stories aren’t your thing.” She plucked the notebook I was holding and haphazardly flung it on top of Zoey’s neatly made bed. Then she smoothed her hand intimately up my chest, the heat from her palm soaking through my shirt. “I think my pills are kicking in. The nausea’s all gone, so let’s rent a movie and snuggle on the couch. Huh?”
As she turned and strolled from the room, I frowned after her, upset that she’d just done that to Zoey. When I turned back, Zoey’s face was a deep humiliated red. With a huff, I retrieved the notebook Cora had tossed aside. Zoey opened her mouth and lifted her hand to stop me, but I spoke over her.