His grin is large as he stands, pulls off the condom, then tucks himself back into his pants. “No, I didn’t lie, I actually haven’t been feeling well. Thinking it’s something I ate.”
“Sure,” I brush my hands over my dress trying to smooth out the wrinkles.
“Seriously,” he says. “It was only a half lie.” He moves closer to me, sliding a hand up my arm before tilting my chin upward and kissing my lips. “But I’m good now. Your pussy heals.”
I laugh a bit too loudly at his remark, then immediately cover my mouth and look at him with wide eyes.
"Well, I’m happy I could help," I say.
17
XIA
The shower is warm as the water rolls down my body. I rub soap into the rough fabric of my loofah, the smell of apple spice mixing with the steam. I take my time washing myself, enjoying the warm relaxation that only a shower can provide. It’s the thing I love most about being home. The showers in the dorms never stay hot long enough. I had only planned on staying a few days, but due to my mother’s current condition, I decided to stay longer. Things haven’t been going well. I took her to the doctor and they diagnosed her with major depressive disorder and sent her home with a few more prescriptions. She claims she’s taking her medicine but I’m not see much of a difference.
It’s been three weeks. The doctor says that sometimes it can take up to six to see a change, but it breaks my heart that she’s going through this at all. I don’t know who to be angry at anymore. It almost feels like a waste of energy to stay pissed at my dad, even though I’m still hurt.
I step out of the shower and head to my room. Jordan has been sick in bed for the last two days. Actually, he and Roman have both been battling a nasty stomach bug and Jordan hasn’t been able to get back to school. I guess he really was sick after all and I feel sort of bad for not taking him seriously the other day in the bathroom. He asked me to take a folder to Satchi for him today and bring back his computer.
I miss him. It sucks having to stay away but he refuses to let me visit for more than a few minutes at a time. Moving to my closet, I slide the hangers over the wooden dowel, looking at all of my clothes. It’s a really hot day, the hottest of the month, and my eyes fall on the red summer dress Jordan bought me. This ought to put a smile on his face.
I slide into the dress and head down the hall. The floor creaks under my feet as I slow at my mother’s bedroom door. It’s dead silent. She may be sleeping, but still, I inch over to the door and knock.
“Mom?” I say as I tap. “I’m getting ready to go to school, do you need anything?” The sound of rustling comes from the other side and I think for just a second that she might be getting up, so I twist the knob, but find it locked. Strange—she never locks her door. Taking a step back, I look at the knob. Specks of fresh soil cover it and sprinkle the floor beneath. Has she been gardening? I hold my breath and pray to see the knob twist. It doesn’t.
“Mom?” I tap the door again a little harder. “Open the door.”
“I’m trying to sleep,” she says. “I’m good, I don’t need anything.”
I sigh, and the familiar prickles of sadness tinge my skin.
“Okay. Just text me if you do. I’ll be back soon.” I lean against the door for a beat before righting myself and walking away.
Casper is perched on the edge of the banister as I make my way toward the stairwell. Reaching out, I let my fingers part his soft fur as he purrs, leaning against my hand. Since my mother has been unwell, I’ve been tasked with taking care of her cat. This means feeding him, changing his litter box, and giving him water. I guess he likes me now because of it. Who knew the way to a cat’s heart was a little tuna? With one final scratch, I make my way down the stairs. Before I leave, I stop in the kitchen and grab the brown paper bags I packed, then I head out the door.
The sun is blinding as I step off of the porch and head down the pathway toward my car, swatting bees that float from the nearby bushes.
Damn I hate when it gets this hot. My steering wheel is searing. I hop in the car and quickly roll down the windows and turn on the air conditioner. My dress falls sticky between my legs as I prop my purse on the armrest next to me. When the steering wheel is cool enough to touch, I put the car in gear and back out of the driveway.
Jordan lives about ten minutes from my mother, so it doesn’t take long to get to him.
The parking lot in front of Jordan’s place is pretty empty when I pull up. I take no time grabbing my purse and the brown bags, as I dash to his door. Fortunately, he gave me an extra key to his apartment last year, so I don’t have to knock on the door. He gave me the key before we started dating, in the way you’d give your neighbor a key in case you lock yourself out. But now that we’re together, I wonder if I should give it back. I mean, I am his girlfriend now, and having a key to his house takes on an entirely different meaning.
The apartment is dark but I’m grateful for the cool air. He and Roman always keep their unit cranked up pretty high, and on days like today it’s a godsend. I make my way up the staircase and down the hall to his room. His door is cracked and the sounds of light music play from his room.
“Jordan, are you awake?” Slowly, I push the door open and peek my head in. Jordan is bundled under a large blanket with a half-eaten bowl of soup and a cup of water sitting on his nightstand.
“Hmm?” He grunts as he rolls over to face me. “Hey, baby.” He looks so pitiful and I have to resist the urge to hug him. Pouting, I walk over to his dresser, take his soup bowl, then set one of the brown bags in its place.
“What do you have there?” He squints.
“Just stuff. It’s your ‘feel better’ bag,” I say. My mother would always make me a feel better bag when I was sick. Depending on the illness, it could have anything in it from hard candy to Nutri-Grain bars. The bag crinkles as I reach inside, pulling out a small bottle of hand sanitizer, a pack of crackers, a ginger ale, and a container of bone broth.
“You’re so sweet,” he says, his voice sounding weak. “Haven’t been able to hold anything down.”
“I know, that’s why I bought the broth. Maybe chicken and noodles are a little too heavy for you right now.”
He nods, his eyes falling closed for a second before he opens them again.
Smiling, I reach into the bag once more, pull out a DVD and turn it in his direction. His head flop to the side as he squints, reading the title. The Little Mermaid.
“Hell no,” he croaks. “Not even on my death bed.”
“Come on, the music always made me feel better when I was sick.” I grin.
“Burn it,” he says before lifting a shaky hand and pointing at his desk. A sealed manila envelope lays flat on his keyboard.
“There's the envelope. Give it to Satchi and tell him I’ll be back as soon as I can kick this.”
I move over to the computer and grab the envelope.
“Got it,” I say as I walk back over. I pause over his bed not knowing what to do. I still want to reach down and hug him, but I know I can’t, so I stand there looking down at him as he blinks. His arm falls heavily at his side.