When I'm With You

by Harper Sloan

  No. That's a lie. It isn't just on me. He did a damn good job of hiding his true colors from me for weeks. It's just my fault that I let it go on as long as I have. The signs have been there for a while now, and I would rather be single with an occasional case of the lonelies than have to deal with this.

  "You missed my street," I whisper from my seat, the blinding pain slamming around my skull and making me feel weak.

  "I didn't," he responds.

  I lean my head against the window and try to argue, but Nikki takes my hand with a gentle squeeze.

  "I think Ember needs to get home, Levi. She isn't feeling well."

  "And she'll get there when she gets there, Nikki."

  "Which should be sooner than later. Seriously, Levi, turn around."

  I squeak when the brakes compress harshly. I had been resting my head against the window, but the second the seat belt cuts into my stomach, I lose the battle with my nausea and hurry to open the door before losing my dinner on the street.

  "Like I said, she isn't feeling well," Nikki snaps, unbuckling her seat belt and shifting to the middle seat to help me hold my hair back.

  I had just finished heaving, feeling another wave of vomit fighting its way up my throat, when he slams on the gas. The door, not able to stay open with the power of his acceleration, bangs into my already pounding head. I have to choke down the vomit as the pain becomes something of the likes I've never experienced.

  "It's okay," Nikki tries to reassure me, scooting back over on the seat and pulling me until my head is in her lap. I focus on the feeling of her fingers running through my hair, and it isn't long until the hypnotizing movements have me asleep in her lap. Just as the pain dulls enough for slumber to take hold, I hear her mumble under her breath. "You're a fucking motherfucker, Levi Kyle."

  I have no idea if he responds; my last thought is that she couldn't be more right.

  I WAKE UP IN A fog.

  It takes me a second to realize that I'm no longer in Levi's backseat but instead laying in the middle of my bedroom floor. The revolting taste in my mouth is enough to make me want to vomit all over again. My head is still pounding, but not like it was when a monster migraine rushed through my skull.

  I've always had trouble with migraines. They don't hit me as often as they did when I was in high school, but high-stress situations always have been a big trigger for me.

  Pulling myself from the floor, I notice how weak I really feel as I move to the bathroom.

  The second I'm upright, blackness tugs at the corners of my vision.

  Well, that's new. I can't remember a migraine ever doing that.

  I stumble with my first step, and I fight with the exhaustion that washes from the top of my head all the way to my toes.

  "Jesus, what is wrong with me," I mumble to the empty room. I look for Bam, but I don't see him anywhere. "Bam-A-Ram," I weakly call out but still nothing. He's probably pissed at me for not giving him the rest of my lunch yesterday.

  Ignoring the fact that I'm becoming overwhelmingly more exhausted with each moment I'm up and moving around, I turn the shower on. It takes me forever to get my jeans off, pulling my underwear with them and kicking them to the side. My arms get caught in my shirt as I pull it over my head, and for a second, I wonder if my arms had turned to Jell-O at some point while I slept.

  The second I step into the steaming hot shower, I take a deep breath and try to remember how the hell I got home. The last thing I can recall is getting sick, then Nikki's soothing touch helping to ease the pain enough for me to fall asleep.

  Then nothing.

  I don't spend much time washing, just putting in the good old college try of hitting the hot spots with the bar of soap. It falls from my hand in a loud clatter the second I finish. I had the fleeting thought to ignore my hair, but the memory of puking in it last night is all the motivation I need to push through my exhaustion and reach for the shampoo.

  I cry out in pain when my fingers push against a huge goose egg on the side of my head. The shampoo from my hands running down my face and into my eyes as I rinse it off just makes me cry out again.

  "Shit, shit!"

  I raise up, opening the shower door and jump out to grab a towel. When I'm standing in front of the mirror, I turn my head and move my thick hair out of the way. When I part my hair, I see the painful bump I had felt in the shower as well as a small cut in my scalp. That explains the headache, I guess.

  I rush out of the bathroom and start searching for my phone. It takes me a few failed attempts, but I finally find it tossed behind the couch, just inside the front door. I fumble with the stupid thing before pressing the right prompts and holding it to the uninjured side of my face.

  "Someone had better be dead," Nikki grumbles in greeting.

  "How did I get home last night?" I breathlessly ask.

  "Ember?"

  "Nikki!" I yell, closing my eyes when a pain shoots through my head. "How. Did. I. Get. Home."

  "Uh, you're freaking me out, Em."

  "I'm freaking myself out!" I scream. This time, my head doesn't just give a burst of pain. Now, I feel a joining wave of nausea.

  "Levi dropped you off. Well, we dropped you off. After you got sick and passed out, I kind of went a little nuts and threatened to cut off his balls if he didn't take you right home. I figured he was over it when we got to your house. Seth was pissed about how Levi was acting, but he got your door unlocked and Levi carried you in."

  "I don't remember any of this," I tell her. "Did you come in too? Or just Levi and Seth?"

  "Seth made me stay in the car. I think he was worried about Levi going off the handle because I got a little lippy and wanted to keep me away from him. He just unlocked the door and came back to wait for Levi. You scared the shit out of me, though. I know you need your migraine meds and your bed when they get that bad. I just had to make him listen."

  "Did you take Bam with you?" I ask, still trying to figure out how I'm missing a huge chunk of last night.

  "No, why would I take that beast with me?"

  "I can't find him. I can't find him, and I don't remember anything. On top of all that, I've done something to my head and I CAN'T FIND BAM!"

  I hear her move around, the groaning of Seth complaining before she speaks. "I'm on the way."

  I hang up, drop to the couch, and look around my living room.

  "What the hell is going on?" I ask the empty room.

  I must have zoned out, or passed out is more like it, because the next thing I know, I have a frantic Nikki banging on the front door and screaming my name. By the time I was able to pull myself from the couch, she must have remembered she had a spare key and she was bursting into the door.

  "Joe Jonas on a stick!" she screams, bringing a smile to my face. She loves using Jonas's name in vain. "You scared the ever-loving shit out of me, Emberlyn Locke!"

  I look up at her, hair wild and frizzy just sticking out in a million different directions, as she stares down at me. My head is still spinning, but I managed to sit and lean forward on the couch. My elbows propped on my knees and my head hanging between my legs.

  "I found Bam," she tells me, bending down so that she's at eye level with me. "He's limping a little but seems fine. He was tied to the back fence. Why would you tie him to the fence?"

  "This makes no sense, Nik. You know I would never do that. I just woke up, and it's like a whole chunk of my night is gone."

  She looks at me, worry flashing in her eyes. "What's the last thing you remember?"

  "The ride home. I remember the ride home, throwing up, the car door hitting me ..." I trail off and reach behind my head and feel another, smaller knot on the back of my head from where the door slammed me. "I have a bump from when he took off after I was sick, but where did I get this one?" I question her, feeling my eyes go wild as I push my head up, grabbing her hand and pushing it gently into my hair so she can feel the larger bump.

  "Holy Madonna." She gasps, reaching forward and poking
around the injured skin. My head jerks away from her touch instantly. "Em, that didn't happen when you were with me."

  I just look at her, and I can tell by the scared look in her eyes that we're both thinking the same thing.

  Levi.

  Levi had something to do with this.

  Bam nudges my knee, and I look down at my beautiful beast. He whines when I rub his furry head, and I know without a doubt that if Levi is responsible for my new aches and pains, he most definitely had a part in Bam's.

  "Let's go get you checked out, Em. I would feel a lot better if you went to the hospital."

  I shake my head and look up from Bam's brown eyes. Nikki, clearly thinking her suggestion is a done deal, is gathering some more clothing out of the neat laundry stacks I had made earlier yesterday before running out of time to put them away. I look down and realize that I'm still wearing just my huge bath towel knotted at my chest. Luckily, it's large enough that even sitting as I am, I'm covering everything important.

  Bam whines again when Nikki almost steps on him, moving away with a limp that makes my heart hurt.

  "Here," she starts. "Let's get you changed."

  "I'm not going to the doctor, Nik. I can tell you right now that I most likely have one hell of a concussion. Whether that's from the door or whatever happened to me when I got home, I'll never know. But if I show up at the emergency room, this will get back to my dad, and I just can't deal with his overprotectiveness right now."

  She frowns. "I don't think that's a good idea."

  "Maybe not, but it's not going to change anything."

  Sighing, she drops the clothes on the couch next to me. I look over at the yoga pants and tank top and move to stand before dropping the towel. Nikki ignores me as I cover up my nakedness. We've been friends for so long that we lost our shyness a long time ago.

  "I'm not leaving," she tells me with determination so I don't try to persuade her otherwise.

  "Good. You can drive me to the vet when they open later this morning so I can have Bam checked out."

  She makes a sound of annoyance and throws up her hands. "So you'll check on your dog but not yourself?"

  I nod, pulling my top down and looking back at where Bam is licking his back leg with slow swipes of his tongue. He looks up, his eyes trusting, and I give him a smile.

  "Yup."

  AS MUCH AS I LOVE Nikki, I'm going to kill her in about three seconds. She's refused to leave my side, being a constant shadow since my early morning phone call a day and a half ago.

  Annoying, smothering, and overwhelming with her mothering.

  "Nik, you need to go home. I need to get started on my final piece for the exhibit before everyone comes over for the big secret plans tonight."

  She looks at me with determination and maybe even a little uncertainty concerning leaving me alone. Even though I've been fine, save the little headache that is just finally receding.

  "I'm fine, Nik!"

  Bam barks at my outburst, and I smile at him. He's still limping slightly when he moves around, but the vet assured me that he just had a nasty bruise.

  "You aren't fine, Emberlyn. You hardly have any energy."

  I huff out a growl type noise and place both my hands on my hips before giving her a look that clearly shows my losing battle with patience. "I would have plenty of damn energy if you weren't still here waking me up every hour to make me recite my name, alphabet, and the presidents' names in order of office term!"

  She has the decency to look sheepish, but before she can voice some sort of comeback, I continue.

  "And I should add I wouldn't ever be able to tell you the presidents' names in order of office term without freaking Google! So your argument that I must surely have brain damage because I couldn't complete your asinine tasks is just ludicrous. I'm fine, but I need a nap to make up for my lack of sleep, Nik. Especially since you guys are still set on me going out to party tonight."

  "They weren't asinine! You know damn well that I know what I'm talking about. You don't just forget first-aid training."

  I narrow my eyes. "First-aid training that you got when you were twelve in 4-H!" I scream.

  "Well, it still makes me more qualified than you are to make that decision, now doesn't it."

  "I'm going to kick your ass if you don't go home."

  She smirks before picking up the nail file she had been using and continued to shape her nails. "No, you won't."

  My hands fly in the air, and I toss my head back to let out another groan.

  "I'm going to go back and work. You need to go home so that I can finish in peace, get a nap for a few hours without you waking me up, and come back tonight with everyone else."

  I turn from where she is sitting at the kitchen table and walk to my studio. The second my feet touch down on the white floor, I let out a calming breath, instantly feeling at home.

  Looking at the clock hanging over the doorway, I make a note of how much time I have before I need to stop. Since the sun has just now touched the top of the trees, I know I have a good five hours before I need to stop. My sister told me earlier, through text, that they would now be over to my house around six tonight with dinner before starting our prep to go out.

  I turn on my music before setting my timer for just after lunch. I go about getting all my paint and brushes set out in front of the huge canvas that is bigger than I am tall. The curator of the gallery where my exhibit is being housed didn't even bat an eye when I asked her if I could change the featured piece at the last minute. The idea came to me last night during one of the rare moments Nikki let me sleep, and I hadn't been able to stop thinking about it since.

  The first thing I did, before calling her, was go through the blank canvases that are stored in my guest room to find the one. I remember when I bought the six-foot-by-four-foot canvas; I never thought I would find something to put on it, until last night.

  Placing the canvas so that it's horizontal on my easel, having to adjust the custom-made brackets in order to hold the monster, I instantly pick up my brush and drop it into the gray paint.

  It isn't long before the music, my mind, and my arm against the canvas are synced together in a beautiful dance. Each stroke is made without thought; each dip into the paint is made without looking away from the swirling arches and twists of black, gray, and white paint.

  Never have I created something that wasn't full of color, full of life. All of my paintings are known for being vibrant and as lifelike as a picture. But not this one. This one is as abstract as it gets.

  My timer goes off, and I step back to look at the work that has held me captive for the last five hours. I take a deep breath and move from one side of the canvas to the other, taking in the unfinished work. I'm surprised that I managed to get as much as I had done today, but really, I shouldn't be. It's been a long time since I was that captive in my zone.

  I make quick work of cleaning up my supplies and moving the unused paint mixtures to the pods that will keep them fresh until I can return to my work tomorrow. I ignore the grumble in my stomach as I drop down on the couch with a heavy sigh and give in to the exhaustion that I've been pushing off.

  My dreams are full of the black, gray, and white world I just knew would be my best piece of art to date.

  "What?" I ask around a mouthful of pizza.

  My sister just continues to look at me with narrowed eyes.

  "Seriously, what is your problem?" I snap, dropping the crust after tearing off the last delicious bite.

  "Dad is going to shit his pants when he sees your head," she tells me, crossing her arms over her chest.

  "Yeah? And how is he going to find out unless someone opens her big fat mouth to tell him?"

  "You two annoy the shit out of me," Stella bluntly states, causing my sister to snap her eyes over to where she is finishing Dani's hair. "I'm so happy that my dad didn't have more kids. I could never handle that crap."

  Dani laughs, earning a scowl from Stella when her head moves too mu
ch. "Just imagine having to deal with a miniature version of my dad as a brother!"

  "Yeah, no. No way in hell I could handle that shit," Stella continues, curling another long piece of Dani's hair around her flat iron.

  "You have it all wrong, Stel." Lyn laughs. "There is no way a sibling could have handled you!"

  Everyone laughs, and Stella just shrugs, sprays another lock of Dani's hair with hairspray, and continues without disagreeing.

  "He's going to find out," my sister continues as if she hadn't just been interrupted.

  "Shut up." I groan and move to walk into my living room where the rest of the girls are hanging out in various forms of readiness.

  Dani and Stella had been doing everyone's hair since the moment they all arrived two hours ago; now, the only two left are the both of them. My hair had been first and the beginning of my sister's annoying chatter about my dad potentially freaking out. The second Dani moved the shorter hair that always brushes over the side of my forehead and got a look at the now yellow and green bruising, she hadn't stopped.

  I can hear her muttering under her breath as she moves around the kitchen to clean up the last of our group's dinner mess, but she wisely stops giving me a bunch of what my dad refers to as our 'sass.'

  Megan and Lila are talking softly on my loveseat, and judging by the way she keeps turning her phone in Lila's direction, I'm assuming she is showing off pictures of her newborn son, Jack.

  They're both wearing black dresses, but where Lila's is on the shorter end of slutty, Megan's is not. Megan's is a beautiful shirtsleeve dress that hits her right in the middle of her thighs. Loose in the skirt and hiding what she refers to as her stubborn baby weight.

  Lila's is sleeveless, but with thick straps and a deep neckline that shows off her cleavage impressively. And where Megan's is loose, Lila's is skintight and hits her just under her bottom.

  Nikki, Lyn, Dani, and Stella are in similar dresses as Lila's, each a little different from the other but all black.

  "We look like we're going to a funeral," I mumble before attempting to sit on the couch next to Nikki. But before my bottom hits the cushion, she is pushing against my back and shoving me forward. "What the hell, Nik!"

  "You need to go get dressed!" she snaps.