CHAPTER SEVEN
Skintight Jeans
LAKE
“Is Serenity stopping by today?” The nurse, Gloria, asks.
I nod my head. Angel said she’d be stopping by.
Gloria switches out my IV, checking the drip. I don’t know how long I’ve been here anymore. All my days are blending together. It’s just another day of some asshole doctor cleaning drugs out of my blood. Another day where life and death intertwine. Nothing’s been getting easier. I throw up everything I swallow and I break into cold sweats at every waking hour.
Right now I’m so damn weak I can’t sit up. My finger stutters as I jab it at the little red button. Gloria gives me a small smile. “I got it. Just going to check your ribs.”
Already knew that. It’s the same damn process every few hours.
She presses the button and my bed inclines. I move my hands out of her way so she can lift my shirt. I talk little with the nurses. Thankful for their help, but I’m never in the mood to force myself into small talk. It’s best I keep quiet and let them do their job.
Gloria pulls up my black t-shirt. The process has gotten smoother the last few days, because I don’t have any bandages wrapped around my torso anymore. She presses her fingers into the bruises. I don’t move despite the tenderness.
“Swelling is still down,” she says to herself. “Your bruises are looking like that ugly vomit color.”
I peer down to see for myself. Most of the bruising is yellow, but some blue and purple splotches remain. Angel went damn insane to get my heart beating.
“Gloria?”
She drops my shirt. “Yes? Can I get you anything?”
I shake my head. “How long have I been here?”
“Eleven days tonight.” She gives me the same smile. Almost two full weeks. Kind of wish I didn’t ask. “Press the button if you need anything, alright?” Gloria takes her leave, knowing damn well I’m not pressing nothing.
Now I gotta wait for Serenity. She texted Brooks right before he left today. It pissed me off that they exchanged numbers. My eyebrows dropped with such speed I thought they snapped off of my head. Brooks didn’t notice and showed me the message. It was one of six texts. The first text was Angel making sure she had the right number.
Serenity: Hey! This is Brooks, right?
Brooks: Yeah. Serenity?
Serenity: Sure is.
Brooks: Hey. Are you visiting Lake today? I have work.
Serenity: Of course. I’ll be there by two.
Brooks: Great.
I stayed pissed off after that. I don’t like that they have some weird co-parenting arrangement with me, and I’m still mad that she has his number and not mine, but I don’t have one to text Serenity with. My ma needed groceries, and I needed heroin, so I sold my phone for some cash. Selling it made it easier to get Brooks the hell away from me.
He knew I went on a bender, so he was spamming me, trying to track me down, as he does. I thought if I sold it, I could solve all my problems and cut one of my last strings, Brooks.
Another sigh draws out of my lungs. Instead of cutting ties, I’m pressed against a hospital bed, losing my mind. I’m stuck in brand new sweatpants and a t-shirt Brooks bought me. No phone, and more strings today than I had eleven days ago.
Angel has about ten minutes to get here before I drown in my worries. I’m thinking. I don’t like thinking. That’s the main reason I stick needles into my arms. I buzz out my veins instead of them circling memories I don’t want to recall. My DNA pulsing through my body and my heart pumping my failures. That all fades away when I’m high. I don’t need to be anyone, and I don’t need to remember I’m still not someone.
There’s a light, harp-sounding knock at my door. Thank God. She nudges open the door, hushing the usual loud creaking noise. “Lake?” she whispers.
Every time Angel visits, she tiptoes around in case I’m asleep. The other day, I pretended to sleep just to see her reaction. She rounded the corner, stopped, threw her hands into the air, and I watched her cuss at herself for being too noisy.
The memory makes me internally smile. “Angel,” I say.
I listen to the door swing open the rest of the way. She shuts it behind her. I observe the corner until she peers around it.
Crap.
I should’ve known it was her day off since she only visits when it’s pitch black outside. I should’ve prepared to see her out of her scrubs. She’s wearing skin-tight jeans that show off her long, slender legs and shape around those dancing hips. Her hair is down, with some shorter strands ending at her chin and seamlessly blending in with the rest of her locks. Thick silk, blonde rope. That’s her hair.
My eye twitches as she wanders closer, unaware, as usual. I despise myself for being pulled to her. Almost like a magnet. I can feel deep in my core a pulse to get closer to her, and I hate it, because Serenity is like one of those balls made of thousands of elastics. She is already way too many strings, and she’s been here a week.
“Hi! You’re awake!” She smiles so wide I worry she’s about to explode.
She skips up beside me and places a container on top of the brochures on my bedside table. I catch a whiff of something. Soup? Did she bring me soup?
I watch her through my eyebrows. My mouth is cracked open. She’s been here for two seconds and I’m overwhelmed.
“Brooks told me you usually sleep during the day. He called you a raccoon.”
What a dick. Of course he did.
I slept during the day for the first few days of my stay, but lately, I can’t sleep well. I’ve asked the nurses to give me my dosages between Brooks and Angel’s visits so I can go numb when I lack distractions. The little highs I’m getting are starting to hurt. Angel must know that somehow.
She doesn’t seem just to be popping by. She’s shrugging an entire backpack off of her shoulders. It’s light pink and so full it’s almost tearing in two. My face stays confused as I watch her. Is she moving into my damn hospital room with me?
I’m not going to ask. Wouldn’t surprise me. “Container.” I point to it.
Angel nods. “I know you aren’t eating.” She tucks her luscious hair behind her ears, showing off her firm jaw that compliments her soft features. “I thought…” She twists her fingers between each other. “Maybe you could keep down the soup? Get your nutrients?”
I can see River in my head, waving her finger in my face. She taught me never to deny food. Not because it’s rude. Purely because our cupboards were bone dry and our fridge was always empty. So, regardless if it was slop from a cafeteria, I had to eat it.
“Thanks Angel.” I ask, “what kind of soup is it?”
“Chicken noodle. I don’t enjoy it, but it’s good for you.” She drops her shoulders, smiles, and frees her hands from her fidgeting.
Chicken noodle soup was my gourmet of meals growing up. We always got tons of it from food drives, especially around Christmas. It’s one of the few meals that kept me fed.
“I like it.”
Seeming reassured, Angel nods and waltzes to the other side of my bed, halting below the TV. It’s screwed into a black metal arm that’s nailed into the wall. She reaches up onto her toes, barely grasping the television.
I raise an eyebrow. “I don’t have cable, Angel.”
She turns her head to me, inching the arm of the flatscreen outwards. Those jeans. Her tight curves would fit flawlessly in my hands.
“I bought you cable for today and tomorrow.”
Once again, my eyebrows pull closer. What is with this woman? She’s done more than enough for me already. “Don’t be buying me stuff, Angel. That’s your money. You worked for it.”
She ignores me, drops onto her heels, and slaps her hands on her hips. Avoiding my eyes and glancing around.
“You hear me? Don’t do it again.”
She finds the clicker, returning her attention to the TV and adjusting its place. “I will.”
She’s stubborn. I hate how easy it is for her to stick around, too. Nothing I’ve done has scared her away. Even me telling her to leave. She comes back, and that backs me into a wall. Usually telling people to fuck off works, but not with her.
I try to keep a sternness in my tone. “No. You won’t.”
“Shut up Lake.”
I hate her. So much. Beautiful butt, stubborn, sexy-laugh nurse, can’t stand her. “Shouldn’t someone be spoiling you, so you don’t need to bother me?”
After a moment of consideration, she just shrugs. And now I’m mad again. How does a life-sized sugar-cube not get spoiled?
“If you’re guilty about it, we can make it even.” Angel plops into a chair. She grins devilishly, clicking onto a channel. Within seconds, shitty love-struck music blares into my ears.
My heart threatens to end itself again. “No.”
She wiggles her eyebrows. “It’s rom-com time.”
I sigh and descend deeper into the mattress. Fine. One stupid rom-com.
Fifteen minutes go by and I’ve already tuned out the movie. Right after the main character realizes her nerdy friend is hot. Boring, but Serenity is invested. Her eyes are glowing brighter than the screen. She chuckles after every cheesy joke.
She squirms in her chair, pressing her legs together and leaning to the side. “Are you enjoying this, Phoenix?”
“No,” I grumble.
She switches positions, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back. A few seconds later, she’s slithering to the edge of her seat. She’s uncomfortable. The chair is withered and structured like a rock.
I scoot to one side of my bed. Angel’s oblivious to my movements.
There’s no harm in asking her to sit next up here with me. My bed is softer than that damn chair. If she plans to sit here for an entire movie, after buying me cable, I’d be a huge asshole to not make her comfortable.
So why is my heart climbing up my throat and thudding into my ears?
“Angel.” I pat the slim space next to me. “Squirming like a stepped-on ant, sit up here.”
She gives me a look at that comment, but rises from her chair, anyway. “Did you not just see that the hotel room only has one bed?” she spikes her finger at the TV.
No, you’re distracting.
“You’re trying to seduce me.” She jokes, but she can’t look me in the eye as she says that, turning her own cheeks pink.
“Don’t worry Angel. You’re not my type.”
She stumbles to me and rolls onto her side of the bed. I suck in a breath as my shivering abruptly ends and I turn scorching hot. Worked up. Agitated. Eager. It’s cause I caught a glimpse of her jean-covered ass before it hit the mattress. That’s all.
“I’m everyone’s type.” She sounds like she’s trying to convince herself.
Then she shifts up on the mattress until our shoulders touch. There’s no room to separate our bodies even by an inch. Serenity returns to grinning at the movie on screen.
How is she not affected by this? I’m on fire. My skin is aching to throw myself out of the bed to take back the oxygen she’s sucking away from me. I’m- shit, I’m hard.
Thankfully, she’s glued to the dumbass movie.
She asks, “has Caleb stopped by yet today?”
Act normal. I can’t make her uncomfortable after I invited her up here. She turns her head to me, a strand of hair falling in front of her face.
“He hasn’t, Rom-Communist.”
“Rom-Communist?” The laugh she echoes is addicting.
I nudge my head. “Why do you care about Caleb?”
“I don’t want to run into him.” Her body tilts in my direction.
Her expression. The ache in my gut. What is it? “He’s your boss, isn’t he?” I know the answer, but I’m trying to get more out of her response.
She turns her head back to the screen. The ball of sun dims. I can’t help but think my words were the wrong ones to say.
I don’t want her here. I’m not trying to make her my buddy and keep her around like Brooks. She doesn’t leave despite my resistance, but I shouldn’t be worried about saying the right things. Instead, I should focus on making her not waste her time watching movies with me.
Her voice is softer. “He is.”
Her lips tug into a tiny grin. It looks forced. Serenity’s not aware I can tell her smiles apart. At least I think I can, and from the looks of it, I said the wrong shit. I should be okay with that, but I’m not.
“Since you’re such a romance hater, I can guess your entire personality,” she says.
My lips curve. “Try me.”
I can smell her. She smells sweet. Not like cinnamon or vanilla. Something deeper, but light. The hell am I saying?
“You don’t like rom-coms. So you don’t like roots and security. Not just with romantic relationships.” She continues, “you lived with Brooks for a bit, then randomly packed up your stuff and left.”
She tucks the loose strands of hair behind her ear. “Not because you like solitude. I think company just scares you.”
I brush off everything she says. Company doesn’t scare me. That’s pushing it. I dislike having company in my life. My lifestyle is stomped on when people interfere. Caring, loving people shouldn’t be near me. The thing about good people is they don’t leave with ease. Like little leeches, but instead of sucking my blood, they’re giving me more.
“Brooks told you I left?”
She nods. “Yeah, he did.”
I can’t tell if I’m relieved or terrified that she’s not looking at me anymore. Though, I’m not a fan of the serious conversation. Smile, Angel.
“Where do you two have these secret meetings?” I ask. “Treating me like a cold case with fresh evidence.”
She grins and the cluster in my chest submerges. “We use you as a meeting table when you sleep, or the vending machine in the hall.”
A meeting table? They’ve been trash-talking me while I’m unconscious? What a bunch of jackasses. “Brooks better not be spilling my secrets. If he breaks one of our promises, I’ll break his hand.”
Now she’s giggling. I can feel my lips twitching to do the unfathomable. I’m struggling to not break into a shit-eating grin. What is this woman doing to me?
“Don’t worry Lake. Whatever he says, or you, it’s safe with me.”
***
Angel hits my arm, almost making me spill my soup. She has me smiling alright, and laughing. I’m laughing because she’s tossing herself around my bed, tears flooding her waterline, screeching her laughter at the top of her fucking lungs. We’re on movie number three. The sun is setting. Serenity left once to heat my soup.
In these few hours, I’ve grown invested in the rom-coms. Not in the way Angel hoped. I pick apart every scene and whisper a joke every few seconds. Angel thinks it’s hilarious, I guess.
“Stop! It’s a great movie!” She claws her hands into the air. Her head is resting on the edge of my shoulder. It’s burning in that spot. Or going numb. I don’t know. Everything’s confusing. She’s fucking confusing.
“A replica of the movie we just watched.” I bring the spoon to my lips, blow, and slurp. She makes good soup. When did she find time to make soup? She was working until four this morning. Has she slept? Don’t care. I don’t care.
“No!” she wheezes.
“This one…” She goes back to thinking, her eyes on the ceiling. “Ooh! This one isn’t a high school setting.”
I gasp. “Wow. Big difference.”
Her laughter fills the room. “You’re funny Phoenix.”
“One sec, I need to check something,” she reaches across my body and grabs her shimmery phone from the table. I watch the smile on her face burn to crisps. She should stop picking up her phone. It always seems to ruin her entire day.
She glances at me, and her shoulders fall. “I don’t have a ride home,” she confesses.
“You don’t have a car?”
She shakes her head and swipes at her screen. Then she types out a quick text and fires it away. Her fingers are shaking, and she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip.
“Is there something else bothering you? You’re shaking.” I watch her feet hit the tiles, and she stands from the bed. “You can Uber home?”
Serenity looks up from her phone to my face, but shifts her eyes to the soup in my hands. I know that expression. I got that expression stuck on every damn day.
She doesn’t have money.
“Angel.” I put the container down and shift towards her.
She pushes her hair back, swiping and tapping at her screen in pure fear. That anxiety swirling in her is so strong it’s jumping over to my gut. “Sorry. We’ll go back to watching the movie. I just, I need a minute.”
I wonder how she seems to be alone, when she’s the fireplace a family comes home to after playing in the snow. How can someone so warm not be surrounded with support?
“Tell me what’s happening.”
Another shake of her head. It won’t benefit anyone else but her to talk about her issues. So her mouth stays zipped. I can say something to make her open up, but I don’t know what. Not yet.
“Angel. You can tell me.”
She huffs. “It doesn’t concern you.”
Her words are like a knife to my chest, but now I know what to say. I turn the fresh sense of sadness into annoyance. I reach over, grabbing her wrist, slowing her tapping. “It does. We’re friends, aren’t we?”
She stops tapping, lifts her head, and the most subtle movement follows. I believe it’s a nod.
“Talk,” I demand.
A bit of hesitation follows, but she does as I ask. “You know how you’re panicking over your hospital bills?”
Screw you, Brooks. Damn him.
Angel blinks at me, tilting her head and sighing. I don’t want her to hesitate and stare at the ceiling, so I state it for her. “You’re broke too?”
“No, um.” She picks at the skin around her fingers even with a phone in her hands. “I’m just a little short this week. I can’t get a ride home.”
I move my hand from her wrist to her fingers. I pry each one away from each other before she makes herself bleed. “You got family that can help?”
“No.” Angel looks beyond me. “It doesn’t matter. I just don’t want to walk home in the dark again.”
I close my eyes for a moment. If only I wasn’t glued to this bed and had a stable income. “Shouldn’t have bought me cable, Angel.”
“Shut up Phoenix.”
My lips quirk again, but I don’t grin.
“It was a lot easier before my sister died.” She pulls her hands out of mine, takes her phone, shoves it into her pocket, and places her hands around her waist. “My mother would’ve helped, but now she only has one daughter to make perfect. And I’m not.”
A finger hits her chest, and I know that little confession is true. To her, at least. How her mother can think such a hard-working, kind daughter isn’t perfect is beyond me.
My ribcage shrinks or some shit. Yeah. Shrinking is the best way to describe it. A gloss coats Serenity’s eyes and I hate how my body replicates what I know she’s feeling. Any other person, I would’ve nodded and given my condolences without thinking.
“Sorry, Angel.” I fail to mention that I have a dead sister too.
I sit on the edge of my bed, trying to appear calm. Though every circuit in my brain is evaporating and bringing out swords and pitchforks. Angel shifts around me, scooting back onto the mattress.
“She passed away a little over a year ago.”
“That sucks.” I swallow. “Were you close?”
She hits her knee off of mine. A tiny accident that shouldn’t ignite me into flames, but it does. Again, this woman makes me feel so much at once. I gotta get away from her, but I won’t.
“No.” Her voice is a little too soft, but I let it go.
“We’ll figure it out.” I watch the cars zip by outside. It’s hard to look anywhere at her anymore.
I can’t remember if I have any money stashed away. If I had some cash on me, I’d give it to her, even if it isn’t enough. Brooks bought me some clothes, but he told me his generosity ends there. So, it’s a lost cause, but I say it anyway. “I’ll ask Brooks. How much do you need?”
She drops her head. “Lake—”
I put my finger up to her lips. “Shush. How much?”
She glares up at me, chopping her teeth at my finger as if she’ll bite it off. “Like twenty bucks.”
I blink. “That’s it?”
Angel hums. “It’ll get me home tonight. I’ll manage.”
She probably cuts out coupons from flyers while she’s half asleep. How does she find time to worry? She’s in this hospital more often than she’s home. Poor girl. I feel like shit, and not because of Fletcher’s forceful fucking withdrawal.
“Alright. I’ll get it for you.”
As expected, my name falls from her mouth, but I shush her again. “Be quiet, Angel. Put on another movie.”
Serenity ends up falling asleep. She nuzzles next to me and I let her rest until the movie ends. The entire time, I’m consuming half the oxygen I need.
***
I don’t realize how successful of a distraction she is until she goes home with the twenty dollars I gaslit Brooks into transferring her.
My thoughts return when I can no longer smell her. It’s not the thoughts relating to her and aiding her journey home. It’s all piles of shit, experiences I want to change, and things I hope I won’t remember at all one day. All the bullshit.
Hell. I hate thinking.
I need to hurry this shit up and get out of Boston Hope before Brooks and Serenity get too attached to me. Hopeful and what not. I can’t do it. I Wish I could go back to being invisible.
The door creaks, and a nurse appears. “Hey Lake! I think that’ll be your last visit of the night,” she chirps. “I brought the goods.”
Right. My nightly dosage.
I forgot all about it .