by C.M. Kars
My sugar’s dropping, but I don’t want to do this here. I have to prove to the guys that I’m good for Sera, and what good am I when I’m nose-diving so fucking badly because I need to eat something?
Maybe if I just look for Sera, maybe I can walk over there and tell her what I need. She’s going to have to save me – again. I can’t make a habit out of this; I’m supposed to be protecting her, not the other way around.
The telltale black spots in my vision are doing their little choreography and in the middle of their sequence, I see Sera walking towards me with a plate of food.
Fucking shit, I’m falling for this girl.
“Here,” she says, holding out a plate of exactly what I need. She trades me my beer for another red cup, and without thinking I start downing it, surprised to find it’s apple juice. My eyes slide closed and I’m so incredibly thankful that she’s here, that she understands without me having to explain all the time.
“Jesus, what did you do? Give her the best orgasm of her life? Fuck, man, she never gets us plates of food, no matter how long we beg,” that fucker Tommy says, clapping me on the shoulder like we’ve known each other since kindergarten.
His words barely register as I’m sucking back the juice with every ounce of desperation I have. I need my A game, and all I’ve been showing off is failure.
After I’ve downed the apple juice, the silence in our immediate group hits me first. The look on Sera’s face hits me second, the look of complete horror as she stares at Tommy. Her beautiful eyes get hard, and her mouth twists into a snarl, and I swear to God I’m hard at the sight of her.
Then Tommy’s words kick in belatedly, seconds too long, seconds too late, and I can’t open my fucking mouth to think of something to say, anything to say to make this better.
I’m at much at fault as he is – because my silence defines what just happened.
I’m going to kill him for that.
Chapter 19
The look on Tommy’s face disgusts me, actually unsettles my stomach. He’s grinning, the fucker, like he’s told the best joke in the world, instead of hurting one of his friends. There has to be something more going on here, because the asshole makes sure to make eye contact with me.
I turn away to look at Sera, and feel like I’ve eaten ground glass at the way she looks so fucking hurt, the way her eyes are starting to water.
There was no need for Tommy to say something like that, no fucking way. Sera doesn’t deserve to be treated like that – not by anyone.
It’s like we’re all rooted by shock, until Josh turns and yells at Tommy.
“What the FUCK is wrong with you?”
Everyone else starts yelling, but I keep looking at Sera, unable to move or speak, not while the sugar gets into my bloodstream and brain. I can’t do anything, I can’t protect her, I can’t throw a punch – nothing, zip, nada.
There’s absolutely no reason for me to be here. I might as well not exist.
Except Sera’s looking at me like she’s completely mortified, like I’ve figured out some crazy secret she’s been hiding. Doesn’t matter what she’s hiding; if anything, she’s seen the weakest, most pathetic part of me and did nothing but help me out.
That kind of person deserves leeway, deserves only the best of the best.
Once I start feeling better, I’m going to tell her that.
Right now, all I can do is watch it play out in front of me as I stand here being useless, trying to stuff my face with as much food as possible, while trying not to look like a spectator.
Sera’s moving towards me, and before I know it, she’s got me sitting on a couch.
“Why did you even drive if you weren’t feeling well?” she growls, moving me around so I’m not holding my plate anymore, but it’s sitting on my thighs.
Fuck, is it too early to say I love you? To tell her I’ll be devoted to her until she doesn’t want me anymore?
And where the hell does she get off being angry at me? I’m the diabetic here, and my sugar’s shot to shit.
“Eat. Now,” she says, looking down at my plate. I’m in no position to start arguing back as I keep shovelling food in my mouth. God bless food. I’m ignoring the shouting, since I’ve got more important shit to worry about, but it doesn’t take long before Sera directs them to the balcony. All I can do is stare down at my almost-empty plate and wonder how I didn’t really taste anything or enjoy a bit of it. That’s what survival does to you – takes the joy out of everything.
“Would you eat, please? Hunter?”
I’m still staring down at my plate, wondering how this is all going to play out. She’s always going to need to take care of me and that’s not fucking fair. I’m twenty-eight years old. I’ve been dealing with this disease for ten years – alone – and with a kid who’s got the very same thing as me. Life isn’t easy and it isn’t fun. It’s a struggle every fucking day, and while I don’t want Sera to be part of that, I need her there, to make my life seem better like a junkie needs his next fix.
How am I going to prove to her that I’m better than this?
“Eat first, and then you can cuss me out, if you want. Right now, I really need you to eat. Please,” she begs, while I’m still staring down at my plate, not saying anything. If I’m thinking so much, means the juice is kicking in. Thanks, Big Guy. Add my IOU to the tab.
I stuff my face, ignoring manners and decorum and there’s probably going to be stains on my shirt but I don’t give a fuck. I don’t even realize Josh has come back inside until the couch dips and Sera’s sucked into my side and the fit is just right.
“I’m sorry, man,” Josh says, looking at both me and Sera. My cheeks are chipmunk full but I keep chewing and give him a nod.
“Fucking Tommy’s a dick on normal days, he saves the side of egocentric asshole for when we have company.” The guy stares into his beer. It could be the lack of sugar, but he could be honest. Maybe. “Is there anything you guys need in here?”
“Nah. We’re good, buddy, thanks. Actually, Josh? Do you mind giving us another fifteen minutes? I...I don’t think I want to talk to anybody just yet.”
I watch Josh nod at Sera and kiss her on the cheek. Why the fuck does everybody keep doing that? And why the fuck can’t I?
“Feeling better?” she asks, once we’re alone again.
I lean back into the couch, letting all the food hit my stomach and let out a heavy breath. Everything feels heavy, my limbs, my eyelids, even the hair on my arms. I’m nothing more than a weighted anchor drowning in a shallow sea.
Now you’re getting poetic. Shut up, and answer her. Truthfully.
I look at her, still chewing on the meat, tearing at the piece I’ve got in my hands like I’m a lion and it’s a zebra. She needs to know what just happened.
“I couldn’t tell him to shut his fucking mouth. That’s me as your friend, Sera. I can’t even tell a guy who’s saying inappropriate things to shut the fuck up or I’ll beat his face in. Because I can’t do that, not when my sugars are low, or high. I’m only okay seventy percent of the time.” Here it comes. “Do you really want that as a friend?”
Sera’s face is tight, like she’s royally pissed with my ass. I’m handing her an out-clause and she’s basically going to throw it back in my face. Hallelujah.
“You’re pissing me off. One fraking second, you’re all like, ‘yeah baby, give me that mouth’ and now you don’t even want to be my friend? Stop being an asshole, MacLaine! Decide what you fraking want, and stop playing goddamn games!”
Games? Games?! I’m the one playing games? She doesn’t even want my mouth on her, practically running through a wall to get out of my apartment, but no, she loves the kid, and I’m not as important. That sounded stupid.
“I’m trying to take it slow – for you. I’m beating myself up every fucking day – for you, because you deserve better, because you deserve more than half a man. But I’m too damn selfish.” Fucking shit, I am. “I want those nerdy shirts, to see you put
them on every morning. I want you there every single night, reading Matty to sleep, waiting for you to crawl into bed with me. I want your voice in my apartment, I want your geeky posters on my wall, and your body in my bed. Is that real enough for you?”
Shit. Her face has gone white-on-white and her eyes are big behind the lenses of her glasses. She chews her bottom lip, making me stare at her mouth. I don’t know if it’s a calculated move or not. Sera’s practically trembling, and her breath has shortened like she’s run up the stairs.
“Super real,” she croaks out, clearing her throat after the fact. “I’d be lying if I said those weren’t words I wanted to hear.”
She’s going to make me smile when I want to be serious. Don’t do it, you’ll lose the battle. “I’ve wanted to say them for a while. You just need to know what you’re getting into with me.”
“I’m having a thought here, Barbossa.”
What?
Sera rolls her eyes at the ceiling and sighs. When she looks back at me, she says, “Pirates of the Caribbean again. I really need you to watch that movie. I’m making jokes to the walls, over here” She smiles with only a hint of teeth, and lays a hand on my cheek, gentling me. My heart’s beating hard and fast, and it has nothing to do with my sugar low.
Then she takes every crack in the walls I’ve built to keep myself strong so I can be there for Matty, and blows them to fucking pieces.
“I think you’re amazing,” she tells me, and I know she’s lying.
“Really, I do. You’re sweet and kind. You don’t understand my nerdy jokes, but you care enough to look them up after. You’re the only one who likes my nerdy shirts. You’re strong, and brave. So, yeah, I think you’re amazing. And no matter what you say or do – nothing will make me change my mind from that.”
Man up, keep it locked, motherfucker. Keep it locked. I move my face so I can graze my lips on the tender flesh of her palm and have to steel myself to ask my next question. She can still shoot me down.
“So you still want to be my friend?”
“I...”
I’m going to pass out if she doesn’t say something soon.
“I think I want to be more than your friend.”
Just like that, I’m flying higher than Superman, and I’m pretty sure I can take Batman on, even with his fancy ass ninja suit.
Bring it on, Brucey.
She wants me. I want her. Can we leave now? Or does she need to settle a score with Tommy? Hell, I need to settle a score with him – no one talks to my girl like that.
I can’t look away from her mouth, her face, her tits, her arms, her throat, back to her mouth then to her eyes. I want her.
Take it slow. Don’t spook her. Slow. Tortoise slow – that guy wins the race.
I want to kiss her badly. I want her tongue in my mouth, I want to smell her skin because I’m so close, I need to feel her entire body against mine.
Her eyes are big and her mouth’s open like she’s waiting for me to plant one on her. I should just do it, take what she’s offering. I back off when I see she’s shaking, when I see her eyes moving too fast, and the rest of her body says she’s unsure.
Maybe she’s not unsure about me, but something else. I just had a sugar low and I’m too tired to sit here and try to figure it out. Oh, but I will. This is going to happen.
My dick has started throbbing at the prospect of getting her in my bed and I’m thankful the plate’s still on my thighs.
Time for some covert rearranging. Mission is a go.
“Thank you for my plate,” I say, loving that her hand is still on my face. Maybe she forgot it there, maybe she won’t let me go. I can definitely show her where I need to be touched the most. Ease it up, dickweed. Calm it down.
“I’m going to need a few minutes alone, baby. Do you mind hanging with your friends for fifteen minutes?” I need a bathroom, and I mean yesterday.
“Sure. I can do that.”
I kiss her palm and watch her reaction.
Her cheeks bloom with a gorgeous blush and she inhales fast, like I’ve shocked. “Call me if you need anything else.”
There it is. Sera’s just not a lay. She’s the one you keep around for as long as you can before you go screwing shit up.
I watch her move slowly to the patio door and hit the terrace outside. She closes the door behind her without looking at me. If she did, I’d be in the bathroom with her right now getting my first real taste of her.
Fuck. Dead puppies! Maggots, motherfucker, maggots!
I toss my plastic plate into the garbage along with my cutlery. My dick’s being strangled by my jeans and the ache is only going to get worse. Maybe having a one-on-one talk with Little Me is going to make it listen. How the fuck do I get the blood back up to my head?
Now I’m thinking of Sera’s mouth wrapped around the head. Shit.
In the bathroom, I look at my reflection.
“You have to stop. Cut it out.” If dicks could whine, mine could win an award. “Maggots. Dead rat carcasses infested with maggots. Maggots in my food, maggots in my house, maggots on-”
There is a God, and he likes me. I run some cold water and splash my face with it, get some on the back of my neck too for the hell of it. Cool it. Lock it down.
When I feel up to it, I get out and move to the hallway – I think I heard the patio door open. Maybe it’s Tommy. I can fuck his shit up right now that I’m feeling better.
Except it’s Sera, cradling her hand to her chest, her bottom lip jutting out like she’s a little kid about to cry.
“I want to leave now, please,” she says, voice tight with pain. She moves without really looking at me and gets her shoes, stuffing her feet in without doing the laces and without them being on properly. Fuck, I hope she doesn’t break her neck going down the stairs. Guess I’m just going to have to carry her, show off my strength.
Lock it down, man. She’s hurt.
Even in the middle of trying to get her foot in so her sneaker doesn’t fall off, she asks me if I’m okay to drive. Can I worship at your altar until the end of my days?
“Yeah, baby. I’m fine. What about you?” She shakes her head. I’ve grabbed her purse and got my feet in my own shoes when I open the door for her. Fuck if I’m going to take the time to say goodbye. But Tommy and I, we’ve got another conversation we need to have at the earliest opportunity. “Where do you wanna go?”
I help her down the stairs best I can, and get us in the car. She still hasn’t answered me. Starting the car, I look over at her; she just keeps looking straight ahead.
“I think I want to go pick up Matty.”
Matty? Okay. The kid’s going to be ecstatic, high as a kite.
Sera’s still cradling that hand to her chest, and with a sinking feeling in my gut I know where she wants to go to next. This wasn’t my idea for a date, but I guess it’s more than my turn to take care of her.
“And I want to go to the hospital. I think my hand’s broken.”
I’m a bat out of hell on the roads, praying that no cops catch me with my lead foot. I get to Mom’s, and even though I called on the drive over, Matty’s shoes still aren’t on and Eddie’s freaking out.
“What’s happened? Is everything all right? Could you please just answer me?”
“Sorry, Eddie,” I say from my crouched position. The kid won’t sit still – he keeps bouncing on his toes with excitement. All because we got home early and he wants to spend time with us. There’ll come a time when he won’t want to be seen with me; hell, maybe he’ll be ashamed of me when he’s older.
I tie up his laces but my hands are clumsy and I can’t get the bunny ears just right.
“Sera’s hurt. I need to take her to the hospital.”
“Sera’s hurt? Daddy, why? Is she tired, too?” Matty says, over my head, rubbing my back like he’s trying to comfort me. My throat gets thick, but I keep concentrating on those fucking bunny ears. Jesus, MacLaine, how long have you been tying your own shoes for? Decades?<
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“No, she’s not tired, Matty. She hurt her hand.”
I can practically hear him thinking. Eddie leans down next to me to get Matty’s left foot. The old man knows when he’s needed, I’ll give him that.
“What really happened?” Eddie asks in a low voice.
“She punched one of her friends.” Sera told me about it on the drive over.
“Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
Eddie’s silent as he ties Matty’s other shoe efficiently. We’re done at the same time, and get back to our full heights. Matty’s arms stretch out for me to pick him up and I follow orders.
Eddie scratches behind his ear and rewards me with a smile. The old man is going to get me in so much trouble one of these days – he knows too much.
“I’m beginning to like this girl. Bring her by at your earliest convenience.”
Yeah. That’s going to be never.
Chapter 20
“Does this hurt?” I think the dude’s an intern. He’s got the scrubs on all right, but his ID card attached to the chest pocket still has him as Dr. Patel. He could be younger than me, the guy’s so baby-faced.
Maybe they shouldn’t’ve given him the D and R in front of his last name if he’s asking stupid questions – and making Sera hurt even more. “How about that?” she nods, keeps up a brave face but I can tell she’s biting the meat on the inside of her cheek.
I don’t think she wants to freak Matty out. I’m the one who’s freaking out, though.
“Either you have a high pain threshold, or you’re trying to impress me,” the intern says, flashing teeth. Flirting? Are you fucking kidding me?
My hand spasms in Matty’s grip and the kid turns to look up at me, questions in Jules’ eyes. Nope, not going there, not going to explain what happened. I know the kid’s nervous about being here – he hasn’t breathed through his nose not once since we’ve been inside the exam room, and his palm is sweaty.
