"I tried to draw a horse today. It looked like a potato with legs."
"I bet it's a cool potato."
"Maybe it's a horse pretending to be a potato!"
"Ah, the bright side. Glass half full, so to speak."
"Fox, why are you talking like that?"
"Because I am a gentleman—"
"Ew! Don't kiss my hand, Fox! Fox! Ah-ha! FOX! I DON'T WANT YOUR GERMS!"
ᖴO᙭
We're halfway to death, but forced to walk through the sterile halls, fluorescent bulbs buzzing like angry wasps overhead. Our muddy shoes, which we tried to clean, squeak against the linoleum. Everything's too bright, too loud, too... I don't know. I miss Chris. I want her to come home soon.
Cam's fidgeting. Today, Charlie goes in for surgery. She spent ten minutes this morning trying to convince me to let her pay me back at some point. I shrugged her off. She just hugged me.
I tug at the tattered neckline of the pink T-shirt Cam tossed at me this morning. "You couldn't have offered me anything else?"
She smirks, walking beside me. "Are you ashamed to support women's breasts?"
I pick the shirt off my chest. It's covered in different sketches of boobs—small, huge, lopsided, three nipples, one nipple, no nipples at all.
GOLDWEN'S BREAST CANCER MARATHON APRIL 10th.
Cam snickers when I don't answer. "Maybe it'll distract Gwen from hating you on sight."
"Thanks for the pep talk." I roll my shoulders. I'm not nervous—I'm not—but my skin itches and I'm twitching and I'm in a cold sweat.
Cam stops near the pay phones by the entry, pulling out coins from her pocket. "I'm gonna call Noah."
"Ask him if he's heard from the girls?"
"Sure," she says, starting to fumble with the change.
The front desk is only a few feet away now. The nurse behind it barely looks up as I approach.
"Fox Weber to see Gwenevere Wilder. Please."
Her brows raise in surprise before her expression slides into annoyance. "Mr. Weber, how nice to see you in person," she says, picking up the phone and dialling a short extension. "It's Weber here again. Wilder, yeah—" She pauses, eyes narrowing at the receiver before glancing at me again. "She's not taking visitors."
"I know. But I need to see her."
"She's not taking visitors. There's nothing I can do." Her tone sharpens, but jokes on her. She can't hang up on me because I'm in the flesh.
I'm not leaving without seeing Gwen. I need another way in. My gaze darts back to Cam, who's muttering curses as she tries to jam the coins into the phone slot. "Do you have an ice pack?" I mumble, switching gears.
The woman huffs but finds one on a shelf in the back, handing it to me. "Anything else?"
"Undoubtedly," I say with a charming smile. "I'll be right back."
I jog toward Cam, popping the bag inside the packet, feeling the quickstart endothermic reaction. "Sport, here." I set the cold pack on her swollen, deviated, bruised nose. She glares with the receiver to her ear, but there's thanks behind it. She takes it and holds it herself.
YOU ARE READING
Beside
Romance''Tell me how it feels,'' he whispers. "Good," I gasp, my entire body trembling. Deeper. Harder. Perfect -- like we've been doing this for years. His hand finds my jaw, fingers firm as he tilts my head up, making me look at him. And that's it. Wav...
