by Yessi Smith
“Looks good,” I said, planting a kiss on his chest.
“You look better.”
I lifted my head when he turned to cough. When he finished, he drew in a few breaths as he angled his body back toward me.
He reached to me, rubbed his thumb over the bridge of my nose. “You’re giving yourself early wrinkles,” he said. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“Your cough sounds awful.”
He rubbed his chest but smiled. “I’m fine.”
After grabbing some cough medicine and forcing him to take some, I lied down beside him, curled myself to his form. His fingers found my waist and he pulled himself closer to me. I loved the way he did that. The way it seemed he could never feel close enough to me.
“When I go back to school, I’m going to see the counselor so I can apply to go to UCLA,” he said.
“That’s where I’m going!” I shrieked.
He chuckled as he brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers lingered, made a few sweet passes across my cheek.
“I know,” he said. “That’s why I’m applying there.”
I sucked in my bottom lip as heat slammed through my veins and spread across my chest.
“How’d you know I was going there?”
“You only told the entire school last year when you got your acceptance letter,” he replied.
I giggled. “I did, didn’t I? Did you apply anywhere last year?”
“A few universities.”
“Where’d you get in?” I asked, knowing he would’ve been accepted anywhere he applied. His grades had always been better than mine, and mine were pretty great.
“I got a full scholarship at the Art School of San Diego.” He shrugged.
My eyes widened. “A full scholarship? Roderick, you can’t give that up to go to UCLA. That’s… that’s a full scholarship! At an art school. You’d do amazing there.”
“I’d do better close to you.”
“Can you just stop being sweet for a second and think this through,” I scolded.
He grinned and despite what I said, I melted a little more inside.
“You’re not gonna get a full ride to UCLA so late in the game.”
“So I’ll apply for financial aid the first year and a scholarship the next year,” he argued.
“I want to be with you.” I ran my fingers through his hair. “I want to be with you so bad, but it doesn’t make sense to throw away your scholarship.”
“It makes even less sense to throw us away.”
God, this boy. His words. He slayed me. Tore straight through my heart. I never stood a chance against him.
“We wouldn’t be throwing us away,” I retorted. “I’d visit San Diego all the time and you could visit me in L.A. until you can go to UCLA.”
“We could do that.” He kissed my nose. “Or we could move in together, rent an apartment in L.A. and go to the same school.”
“Yeah.” I huffed. “Your idea sounds way better.”
“Of course it does,” he agreed. “Now go to sleep. You have school tomorrow.”
“So bossy.”
I yawned. This time it was his fingers that played with my hair. And when I fell asleep, I didn’t hear my mom’s screams. I didn’t hear the echo of a future I was afraid of.
All I heard were the soft sounds of Roderick’s breath in my ear.
Brinley’s room was pretty. Simple and warm, a lot like her handwriting, but mostly like Brinley herself.
She had her reasons to push people away. While I didn’t understand why she hurt people when it never made her feel better, I supposed that was the point. That was her punishment. She ridiculed others and it was she who suffered the most.
She hated herself. I remembered her telling me that when we were walking to her car from the cave. I couldn’t let her hate herself though, not when there was so much to love about her.
Love. Yeah, I loved her. I always had. She’d been my best friend at one point and although she let me go, I didn’t think I ever truly had accepted it. Instead, I tried to hate her as a way to keep her in my life.
Ridiculous, wasn’t it? How we pushed away the very people who could help us.
I knew she would try to push me away when things got dirty again, when I made her talk about things she didn’t want to talk about. I’d be there to push back because that’s what you did when you loved someone. You didn’t give up on them. You didn’t let them give up on themselves.
You pushed back until they learned the comfort of leaning on someone they could trust. You pushed back until they saw themselves for who they really were. Worthy of love from others and from themselves.
Resting on her bed, I surrounded myself with her smell as I wrote in a notebook she gave me. Writing wasn’t just an obsession for me but a purge of sorts. It was the only way I could give voice to everything I’d hidden.
Brinley and I had that in common. We hid well. So well in fact, I didn’t realize how much I didn’t want to be alone until she gave me someone to talk to. Just as she didn’t realize how much she hated herself until she found her passion in writing. At least, that’s what she told me. That through putting emotions on paper, she found out how much she disliked the person she’d become. That feeling grew and grew until she felt she couldn’t live in her own skin.
We didn’t write words. We bled them. It was those words that coursed through our veins and brought us back to life. Brought us back into each other’s lives. And now that I had her, I couldn’t let her go. Despite her warnings of what the future may hold. That didn’t mean I wasn’t terrified. I was beyond terrified. The idea of losing her, whether it was to herself or to someone else, paralyzed me.
For now, I had her. For now, she was mine and I would keep it that way forever if I could.
I wondered how different school would be when I went back. Would she walk with me down the hall, hold my hand and nestle against my chest? Would she let me kiss her in front of everyone? Would I have someone to sit with during lunch?
A smile played on the corner of my lips, and I imagined being the one walking her into the Fall Ball tomorrow. I imagined her soft figure pressed against me as we danced beneath the twinkling lights of whatever hall the school had rented. Her face pressed close to mine with my hands running across her back as her fingers played with my hair.
It would be the perfect night, except it would never happen. I was still sick and didn’t have a suit. Although we clung to each other in the privacy of her room, I wasn’t sure she’d want to be seen with me like that in public. I was still the school’s outcast, the freak and despite all the changes she’d made, she was still the school’s princess.
A few coughs shook my body, and I tried to suppress them so Brinley’s mom couldn’t hear me. She’d been pretty active today, walking across the hall to Brinley’s door several times, and I didn’t want to give her a reason to come inside. Despite my best efforts, the coughs sputtered out, so I pushed my face into a pillow to soften the sound.
When I came up for air, pain radiated while fire licked against my chest. My lungs seemed to fold into themselves, war with each other rather than grant me the oxygen I so desperately needed.
I coughed to ease the tightness, then closed my eyes on a groan. Even with my eyes shut, the world seemed to spin. Gripping onto Brinley’s sheets, I took slow breaths. But each inhale seemed to set my lungs on fire.
Nausea rose with every cough. With my vision blurred, I lowered myself to the floor and crawled to the bathroom. Saliva dripped from my mouth and when I raised the lid to the toilet, I vomited. More came up and I choked on it when I continued to cough.
Beads of sweat collected on my forehead and my back. Everything in me shook.
Suddenly, a hand rested on my shoulder, and I jumped at the contact. Looking back, I saw Brinley’s mom peering back at me. Her features were soft, her lips pulled down in a frown. She looked so much like Brinley, which shouldn’t have shocked me, but it did. The woman who screa
med and cursed to the high heavens had the beautiful face of an angel.
“You’re not Brinley,” she said, her voice small.
I shook my head, unable to speak, and then leaned back over the toilet to vomit again. Water ran behind me, and I nearly groaned in relief when she put a cool cloth over the back of my neck. She rubbed my back, spoke words of comfort and when I leaned back, she took me in her arms while I tried to breathe.
Each inhale hurt more than the other.
Behind me, she stood up and went to the sink where she turned the water on again. I tried to control the coughs, control my breathing while I watched her touch the water every so often. She didn’t speak again, but would look down at me through concerned eyes. Leaning against the wall, I closed my eyes.
Brinley would be home soon. She couldn’t see me like this. Already, she worried too much about me.
“There we go,” her mom said.
She reached an open palm to me. I hesitated but took it and she helped me to my feet.
“Lean over the sink and take deep breaths,” she said.
I did as she instructed and when I leaned over the sink, she put a towel over my head. I stilled, but she pushed my head down further and I followed suit.
Steam stung my face and when I tried to straighten back up, she held me to the sink with a firm hand.
“Breathe in the vapor,” she said. “It’ll help open your bronchial tubes.”
Closing my eyes, I took in a deep breath and coughed out a release. Again, I inhaled and exhaled. Each time I coughed until tears stung behind my eyes.
“You’re doing good,” she said, rubbing my back.
Long moments passed before I could finally breathe again. This time, when I stepped away from the sink, her hands fell from my back.
“Thank you.” I turned to face her and saw Brinley standing behind her mom.
“Close your mouth before you catch flies,” her mom teased her.
Brinley snapped her jaw shut, but her eyes continued to jump from her mom to me. Extending my arm, I reached for her and she stepped into my embrace.
“Hi, Mom.” She leaned her head against my shoulder. “I guess you met my boyfriend, Roderick?”
Her mom smiled back at her. “I guess I did. Any idea what he’s doing in your bedroom while you were at school?”
She nibbled on her bottom lip as her cheeks turned a pretty pink.
“His aunt’s out of town for work, and I didn’t want him staying at home by himself when he got sick,” she finally said.
I sagged in relief when her mom nodded in understanding.
“You have a nasty cough, Roderick,” her mom said. “When your aunt gets back you should have an X-ray done of your lungs. Do you mind if I have a listen?”
“A listen of what?” I asked.
Brinley laughed. “Of your lungs with her stethoscope.”
“I used to be a doctor before…” she trailed off, her eyes looking passed us. She snapped her attention back to me. “I’m Rosie by the way.”
“Yeah.” I coughed. “Sure, Rosie, I’d appreciate it if you listened to my lungs.”
Brinley kissed my cheek, and then took my hand to lead me back to her bed. I let her help me in and thanked her when she covered me with blankets.
“You know, Brinley.” I winked. “Your mom’s kind of hot.”
Red spread across her cheeks and she covered her face. “Ohmygosh! Don’t say that.”
“She totally is.” I nodded.
She smacked my shoulder lightly and then kissed where she’d hit me. “Are you okay?” Her voice trembled. “When I got home, you sounded awful. Worse than…”
“I’m okay,” I interrupted her. “Your mom helped me. I guess being awesome runs in your family.”
She didn’t reply. She didn’t have to.
Seeing the notebook that I must’ve let fall to the floor, she picked it up and tilted her head. I nodded and she opened to the first page. Her hand found mine as she read my words. Expressions crossed her features.
“Beautiful,” I said, running my thumb over the back of her hand. “You’re so beautiful.”
She peeked up at me from behind the notebook but put it down when her mom came back in.
“Okay, Roderick, sit up for me.”
Rosie took Brinley’s place beside me and after warming the bell of her stethoscope, she placed it on my back beneath my shirt.
“Take a deep breath for me.”
I did and God, it hurt. A cough tore through my lungs, but I continued to breathe as she listened. After moving the stethoscope to my chest, she patted my shoulder.
“You’ll need a chest X-ray but I’d say you have bronchitis.”
“And will these antibiotics,” Brinley reached for the medicine I’d been taking, “help him?”
Rosie raised a single brow in question when she examined the pill bottle. Turning it around, she pointed to Brinley’s name.
“Please don’t tell Dad.” Brinley looked down at her shoes.
“It’s my fault,” I blurted out. “My aunt left and instead of telling her to come back home, I called Brinley. She was trying to help me. I don’t want her getting in trouble because of me.”
Turning the bottle back to face her, Rosie said, “That’ll help but you also need steroids. When does your aunt get back?”
“Today.” I swallowed hard. “She should be home any minute.”
“Good.” She patted my knee. “Have her take you to an urgent care. The one close to your school has an X-ray machine, but don’t take these pills with you.” She shot a disapproving look to Brinley who squirmed under her scrutiny. “You can get in a lot of trouble for giving someone your pills. What if he’d been allergic to them?”
Brinley nodded, letting her hair spill in front of her face.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I’m not allergic to anything. Brin helped me, she took care of me.”
Rosie placed a hand to her forehead. “I’m going to lie down for a bit.” She smiled, but it wasn’t like the other smiles I’d seen. This one was forced.
“Mom?” Brinley stood beside her, put her hand on her mom’s elbow.
“Take your boyfriend home. Maybe you should stay at Nicole’s tonight.” She squeezed her eyes, holding a closed fist by her chest.
“I’m staying with you,” Brinley argued.
“Call the nurse before you leave. It was nice meeting you, Roderick. I hope you’re feeling well soon.”
“Thank you for taking care of me, Rosie,” I said to her departing back. “I’m glad I finally got the chance to meet the woman behind Brinley’s gorgeous looks.”
She angled her head to the side and gave me a smile. A real one.
“Take care of my girl when I can’t,” she said, her smile falling.
“Always.” Standing, I wrapped my fingers around Brinley’s waist and held her to me as her mom went back to her room.
We heard her door shut, and Brinley leaned her back against me with a sigh. “You need a chest X-ray.”
Something in my chest squeezed, but this time it wasn’t my lungs. I dropped my head to her shoulder.
“Do you think you can take me to my aunt’s house?”
Tucking a pillow beneath my arm pit, I made my way to the front door where Roderick waited for me. I’d already put his bag in my trunk but I ran back in to grab this.
His call to his aunt was tense, and I knew going back weighed heavily on him. I couldn’t save him from that. He had to go back and see a doctor, but I hoped the pillow might offer him a little bit of comfort.
“What’s that?” he asked.
I widened my eyes in mock shock. “A pillow.”
He shook his head. “Why are you bringing it with us?”
“So you can sleep with it.”
He took the pillow from my grasp and pressed his face against it.
“It smells like you.” He smiled.
“And the pillow I’m keeping for myself smells like you.” I closed the
door behind me and locked it.
“Seeing as you’ve told me a couple times I smell bad, I think you’re getting a pretty bad deal out of this.” He nudged me with his shoulder.
“Shut up.”
The drive to his aunt’s house was silent. Not uncomfortable, even though I knew Roderick was nervous. I could feel his anxiety crawling on my skin, but he kept to himself and I let him. He kept the pillow I gave him on his lap, his fingers touching the soft fabric and playing with the ends while his knees bounced in anticipation.
“Are you going to be okay at your aunt’s house?”
“Yeah.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
Drumming my fingers on the steering wheel, I turned in to his neighborhood. “Of course I’m gonna worry about you. You wound up living in a cave to get away from her.”
“It’ll be fine, baby.”
Baby. I loved it when he called me that. As if I wasn’t already falling head over feet for him.
“I wish you’d talk to me,” I muttered.
Long moments passed where he stared out the window. Finally, he spoke. It came out heavy, sad. “You know I’ve been living with my aunt since my parents died.” He rubbed a hand over his chest. “She’s not bad or anything, we just don’t get along. We fight a lot.” He hesitated. “Maybe it’s my fault. I’m not easy with her. I pick fights just because I can. But it’s also her fault. I’ve lived with her for five years.” He stammered out a breath. “And I still feel like a visitor. Our last fight she told me I’d overstayed my visit so I left. Didn’t really want to go back to her house, but I don’t have a choice.”
“You can stay with me,” I offered.
His eyes warmed, and the affection I saw on his face made my heart soar. “You can’t hide me away forever. It’s better if I stay with her until we move to L.A.”
We were quiet again.
“Will you call me when you get back from the urgent care?”
“Yeah, and if I’m not hacking up a lung I’ll talk to you all night.” He winked.
“All night’s a really long time,” I teased. “They cancelled the football game tonight.” I looked up at the black sky. “I could stay with you if you wanted me to. My mom said for me to stay at Nicole’s anyway.” I lifted a single shoulder in a shrug.