“My stuff?”
“I found it outside. Some on the doorstep, some in the trash.”
“My stuff that Shane tossed out?” Her mouth hangs open.
A swirl of pink hair surrounds her as her head whips from the sack to me, nodding, and then back.
“You went through the trash for me?”
“Don’t remind me.” A smile stretches my mouth, and I wonder how it looks to her, with all the red paint she sees.
“I love that you did that.” The break in her voice is audible.
“Only for you.”
My skin begins to itch over the idea of disappointing my mother, pissing off my Dad, and my nails drag across it harshly, near the elbow. Near the bubbling skin that’s inked green.
Fuck, I’d forgotten about the tattoo with everything going on. It’s a good thing she chose to keep the room dark because this isn’t how I want her to find out.
“I guess you really love me then. How long until you wake up? Or until I do?”
“The world would have to stop, Dollie.” I leave the light off in the bathroom, feeling just a tad too vulnerable as I rub at the discomfort in my throat. “Did you get my message?”
“Yeah, sorry I didn’t answer.”
“It’s okay.” I shrug. Nonchalant is not me, so I give up my act quickly.
“I see you took initiative with the pizza.”
“I did. Eat half of it.”
“I’m not hungry.” Still, she moves to the bed and places herself on the edge.
“Because you’ve eaten?”
“I haven’t eaten.”
“Maybe just a slice then.”
“Maybe tomorrow.”
“You can’t eat that thing tomorrow. It looks bad enough now.” I plop myself down at her side, denting the mattress with my weight, and her body falls into mine.
It’s easy to notice each flutter of her eyelashes as her big blue eyes roam my body.
“Was it hard for you to get it?”
“What do you mean?”
“The locals. They serve you without issues, right?”
Inhaling a little too deeply gives me away.
“God, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry for them.”
“No, I’m sorry for screwing up your life and still needing you.”
