I’m going crazy. Given my family’s history of psychological disorders, it could happen to me.
Schizophrenia often surfaces in young adulthood, as a result of trauma or the unprecedented stress of a radical life change.
These first weeks at NCU have marked a radical change, and I must be hallucinating. Cause, meet effect.
I swear Thea’s everywhere I go. It’s always another blond about her height, with curly or wavy hair. I’m disappointed when it’s not her. I shouldn’t expect to find her on a college campus. She’s not taking classes this semester. She also mentioned she was from Georgia, which is a few hours from here.
I’m a little early for my appointment with Dr. Sykes, the head of the neuropsych unit here. I’m meeting with her to discuss internship opportunities on upcoming research studies her team is doing.
I have no idea which elevator to take to get to her offices. One bank of elevators is for the patient rooms and I can’t find the other bank the guard told me to take.
For a guy who can maneuver a boat in the dark, I suck at on-shore navigation. A woman is leaning one shoulder against the wall in the hallway, the weight of her purse dragging her thin shoulders down. Her bag is familiar.
I shake my head. Another crazy hallucination.
I walk up behind her.
Now I’m having an olfactory hallucination. She smells of raspberries.
“Excuse me, I’m sorry to bother you. I’m looking for the neuropsych offices.” Her torso shoots from relaxed to ramrod straight.
I continue. “And the numbering of the floors here is so confusing. I mean, what building has a floor zero?”
She’s mumbling something. Is it “no way, no way, no way?” Her head shakes a little from side to side, and she turns in slow motion.
She’s gaping at me.
“Oh fuck!” She spits the words out.
Yep. That’s Thea.
“Holy…What are you doing here?” I slide my finger into the collar of my dress shirt, which just shrunk two sizes on my neck.
She continues to stare at me, mouth open, cocking her head to the left, wrinkling up her forehead.
I reach out to touch her. I want to make sure she’s real.
She flinches.
She’s real.
My hallucination wouldn’t shy away from my touch.
“Thea? Thea? Are you okay?” Her non-reaction has me concerned.
“Oh, yeah, God yeah, I’m fine. A better question is what are you doing here?” Her eyes narrow and her jaw tightens.
“Um, med school? The group of buildings behind the hospital where they keep the cadavers and teach us how to stitch up people?”
“Here?” She points her free hand, the one not holding the enormous coffee cup, down at the ground. “You’re attending NCU Medical School?”
“Uh-huh. So what are you doing here?”
Her eyelid twitches and her forehead wrinkles again. “Meeting Leesh—Felicia—for lunch. She works here.”
She doesn’t elaborate, but I can only assume one thing: she lives nearby.
“You told me you lived in Georgia.” I rub the bridge of my nose.
“I told you I was from Georgia. That’s true. You assumed the rest.”
True. She never told me where she lived. But it’s here. Where I am.
On the outside, I remain calm and collected.
On the inside, I’m doing the Snoopy dance.
A quick glance at her clothes tells me she fibbed earlier. Was she intentionally avoiding me?
“You don’t have an interview, do you?”
“No.” She flushes bright red from her hairline to the exposed skin at her neckline. As usual, once my eyes find her breasts, I find it difficult to drag them away.
“But you do.”
“Sort of. An informal meeting about a possible internship.”
She nods.
My heart is in my throat and before I’m rendered mute by excitement, I take a chance like I did that night weeks ago at Paddy’s.
“Go out with me tonight?”
She breathes, sighing loudly on the exhale.
I smile. She once told me she loved my smile.
She crosses her arms over her chest, her head moving from one side to the other.
Then she turns her head to the open door of the coffee shop, relaxes her arms, reaches into her purse, and pulls out her phone.
“Alright. Here’s my address.” She furiously taps at the keyboard with her free hand, and my own phone buzzes in my pocket. “Meet me at seven.”
She darts off in a blur of swirling blond hair and twirling blue skirts, like a fairy flitting away, or a gypsy on the run.
I can’t help but grin, and as I punch the button on the elevator, hoping this is the right one, I whistle a happy tune.
***
Thea
What. The. Fuck. Just happened?
I’ve spent over a month immersing myself in meaningless television and eschewed happy romance novels, which I love, for the less warm and fuzzy works of grotesque horror and true crime. All in the name of getting over the beautiful boy from the Keys.
Then he up and shows in my neck of the woods. Apparently for the next several years.
YEARS.
I could have said no. I could have lied, like I lied about the job interview earlier via text.
Staring into those honeyed hazel eyes, lying became impossible.
Saying I didn’t want to go on a date would have been a whopper.
It’s one meal. After tonight, I’ll pack up, break my lease, and move home to Daddy’s. Change my phone number and cut all ties.
Hmmm. That seems like an awful lot of trouble to avoid the person I want to spend time with the most.
I still can’t forget the last things we said to each other in Florida. I know what I was going to say.
I’m positive he was going to tell me he loved me, too.
Stars swirl around my head every time I think of him, and when I turned to find him behind me, I almost passed out.
I think Mama tried to send me a message from heaven when Shay asked me out. A moment after he asked, as I was shaking my head no, the music filtering from the coffee shop faintly answered the question on repeat in my head: should I say yes?
Fleetwood Mac’s “Over my Head.”
So I agreed.
Seriously though, this is the end.
My boobs get cut out soon, and I can’t focus on anything but my recovery and spending time with Jen. This cycle of chemo is done and she’s better. Time for us to start doing those sisterly things we love: eat and shop.
Shay can’t take too much time out for me anyway. Medical school. The one here is top in the state, renowned throughout the country, actually, so he has to devote all of his time to studying, and the internship, if he gets it.
One date will be harmless. Then we’re done. I’ll make that clear tonight.
Leesh comes bounding into the lobby, already chattering when she’s still ten feet away from me, but her voice turns to white noise.
“Thea, did you hear me? I swear I saw the hot boy from vacation wandering around campus the other day. I must be mistaken, but Shay’s legs were pretty memorable, and he had a pretty impressive ass if I remember correctly.”
I shoot her a sideways glance, and she shuts up.
She vividly remembers the last day in Key West, how much I was hurting. We hadn’t talked about it since, but my avoidance of the subject signaled the depths of my pain. The only other things I don’t want to talk about are Mama’s death and Jen’s illness.
Unless you’ve watched someone you love wither and pass right before your eyes, you can’t understand. I pray every day for Jen’s recovery. I can’t lose her too, and those precious babies of hers need their mama.
While Bennie and Leesh have suffered break-ups, I think they understand how profound this one was for me. The last one before M-day. Once the boobs are gone, things can never be the same.
I�
��d always thought it wouldn’t matter. My breasts don’t define me. Then I fell for a guy who adores them.
My asshole of an ex-brother-in-law had the gall to tell my sister, when she found out she had a lump, that if she “got her tit cut off she wouldn’t be a real woman,” and he wouldn’t want her anymore. She opted out of the mastectomy, and when she got sicker and sicker through her treatment, he left anyway.
I won’t let anyone dictate what I can or can’t, should or shouldn’t, do with my own body, and I am not putting off life-saving surgery for the sake of any guy.
I’d only known Shay for a short time, and he didn’t strike me as “any guy,” though. He’s one of the good ones.
Exceptional, I think.
Still doesn’t change what I need to do.
Want to do, too, I remind myself.
The constant clacking of trays sliding together in the cafeteria line, coupled with the lively chatter, do nothing to distract me from him. I pick a pre-packaged salad from the cold case and grab a plastic bottle of pop, too.
We sit at a small table by the window, and I rip the sticker off the flimsy packaging and dig in. Well, not really.
Leesh clears her throat. “What’s wrong with you? You never get rabbit food, and now you’re not even eating the yummy stuff.”
I push the turkey, ham, and croutons around with my fork.
I put down the cutlery. “Sweetie, I’m sorry. I’m not all here. I had an unsettling encounter today. Unexpected.”
Leesh sets the fork on her plate, leans her elbows on the table and folds her hands under her chin. “Ooooh. Intrigue. Do tell.”
“You may have seen Shay. He’s here.” I twirl my hand in the air.
“Here?” Her nose crinkles.
“Yes. Here on campus. Right now, in this hospital, a couple floors up. I talked to him right before you came down.”
“Oh. My. Gawd.” Her round green eyes grow even wider. If she had blond hair, she’d be the cartoon Rapunzel’s twin, complete with her cute button nose. “Go on, go on. What did he say? Is he mad you didn’t call him back?”
“He didn’t even ask. Maybe he will tonight.”
She slaps at my hand. “Shut up! Are you going out tonight? What are you wearing? How did he ask? What did you say? Tell me everything!”
I’m exhausted listening to her talk so fast. I’m so laid back, and she is one of the most high-strung people I know.
Her boss better watch his back. Leesh may be taking over his job next month.
“Whoa, slow down. I can’t think of answers as fast as you spew questions. One, yes. Two, no idea what I’m wearing. Three, he blurted the invitation. Four, I said okay. I was shaking my head no, but Mama encouraged me to say yes.”
She takes another bite of chicken, chewing as she studies my face. “You believe that, don’t you?”
I nod. My friends learned a long time ago not to question me on this issue. They don’t have healthy relationships at the moment with their parents, and I’d like to think if Mama was still alive, we’d be as close as we were when I was sixteen.
“What was the sign this time?”
“A Fleetwood Mac song. ‘Over my Head.’”
Leesh screws up her face.
“Yeah, you’ve never heard the song.” It wasn’t “Landslide” or “Don’t Stop,” the most played on the radio, which is why it was weird to hear in the coffee shop.
“Okay, I’ll give you that one. I at least hope it’s a happy one, not one of their depressing ones about somebody cheating or somebody’s Daddy issues or something.” She sucks down the last of her drink, slurping through the red straw.
My shoulders shake with laughter. If nothing else, I can count on Leesh to keep it real.
“What time is he picking you up?”
“Around seven.”
She nods, her bright red hair spilling over her shoulder. “Good. I’m off at five o’clock. I’ll be over right after to help with wardrobe selection. Hold on a sec.”
She pulls her phone from her purse, thumbs flying over the virtual keyboard. Within fifteen seconds, her phone is beeping back. “Excellent. My stylist is free. He’s coming over and bringing the flat iron. He’s only doing this because he wants to sleep with me. Maybe I’ll let him if he makes you look fabu!”
“Wait, Miguel wants to sleep with you? I thought…”
“Thea, I’m shocked. Not all male hairdressers are gay.”
“That’s not what I meant. I thought he wanted to sleep with me.”
We both chuckle.
It feels fantastic to laugh again.
Like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.
Like Shay had pulled it off.
My ability to end things over supper is slipping away by the second, and I’m pretty sure I don’t want to catch it and reel it back in.
I’m in so much trouble.
And I’m going to drag that boy down with me.
Chapter 9
Shay
Fate.
No other word could describe what had happened.
What else could put her in the hospital, near that elevator, at the exact moment I walked by?
The campus is massive, and we could have gone the next several years without finding one another, especially since she’s not taking classes and today was visiting a friend who worked at the university medical center.
Waiting for her friend at the same elevator I needed to take for my appointment.
Fate.
Fred is floored by the news but doesn’t believe in fate. We’re men of science, he argues, and unless we can prove something, it doesn’t exist.
Thea exists though. All soft hair and smooth skin and delicious curves. She’s real, and I need to prove to her we should not stop after tonight. She’d hesitated when I asked her out. She’d even started shaking her head, but something happened and she changed her mind.
I’m glad she did.
This day was shaping up to be quite a ringer. My informal interview—more a conversation—with Dr. Sykes went well. We’d already been acquainted through one of my instructors at Miami, and she’s familiar with my work and interests.
They’re doing a medication study investigating the impact of ADHD medicines on kids with autism, and Dr. Sykes needs assistance with data input. Nothing hands-on, at least not yet, but I have to start somewhere.
Now dinner. I’m clueless about where to take her. I’m new to town and still unfamiliar with the decent eateries.
I flip on my computer and head out to the balcony overlooking the woods. The threatening storm had passed, and the late afternoon sun warms my face.
I found directions to Thea’s, and now I needed to find an inexpensive place to eat nearby.
I have some savings, but that has to hold until after my loan disbursements.
I’d go broke to make Thea smile, though.
I plug her address into Yelp and search for Mexican restaurants. Not too expensive, and I remember she ordered nachos at Paddy’s.
The time in Key West seems like a lifetime ago, though it hasn’t been two months yet. I’ve missed her every day since the morning we said goodbye and she turned away from me. The goodbye kiss splintered my heart, and all I wanted to do was run back to her and ask her to take me wherever she was going.
I’d worked so hard to get into medical school, though, through high school and undergrad, and as fate—yes, Fred, fate—would have it, she’s within my reach again. This is meant to be. Now to convince her.
I find a place with decent reviews, and plug the information into my phone’s navigation app.
I’m relieved I went shopping and bought some new clothes that cover my legs. I’d worn shorts for so long year-round, and the one pair of pants I owned were a part of my suit.
Now the proud owner of several pairs of khakis and other casual pants, I’m confident I’ll at least be presentable while tripping over my tongue, and hopefully falling into her.
I’d be satisfied, thou
gh, with a long, slow kiss goodnight on her doorstep.
I do know, though, I’ll never give her another goodbye kiss ever again.
She’s stuck with me whether she wants to be or not.
I hope she doesn’t take much convincing.
***
Thea
“I admit, Leesh, this is outstanding.” I twirl in front of the full-length mirror attached to the back of my bedroom door. The black and white striped wrap dress accentuates my nipped-in waist, and while the dress doesn’t do anything to minimize my chest, it doesn’t call undue attention to it, either. Which is fine because the only person I want looking is Shay.
The teardrop earrings highlight my face, and Miguel worked miracles taming my hair with his multitude of sprays, brushes, and the flat iron.
Straightening my hair is so much work, and I hardly ever take the time. While I like my natural curls, I’m crushing on this sleek style, pulled back on one side, and falling free over the other shoulder.
As soon as I wash my hair, the curls will bounce back, but I’ll enjoy this while I can.
Leesh beams, proud of her handiwork.
I sweep on some mascara and lipstick. A sharp rap at the door startles me, and I have to wipe off the lipstick smudged by my jerking hand.
6:55 p.m.
Of course he’s early.
“I got this!” Leesh calls over her shoulder as she walks down the hall. “You make an entrance when I call you.”
I sigh. I hate doing this, but she took two hours of her time to help me get ready, even though I never would have taken two hours on my own.
“Thea, honey! Yoo hooo! Your date’s here.”
Did she have to be so embarrassing?
I slide on my dressy flats and glide—at least I try to glide—down the hall.
Shay stands in the entry hall, and my breath catches. He’s not quite as dressed up as earlier, when he was rather dead sexy in his suit and tie, but he still looks…wow. He’s wearing a dark-green, short sleeve button-down shirt, with khaki pants skimming over the solid muscles of his legs.
I swallow, remembering what’s underneath the clothes, and a wave of electric desire surges through me, urging me forward.
Goodbye to You Page 9