No Love Allowed

Four

Suzy closed the front door and leaned heavily against the door. The silence in the house confirmed what she already knew: her mom was nowhere inside. Probably took another shift at the diner or the grocery store. She hated how much her mom had to work, but after everything that had happened today, her not being at home was what Suzy needed. The last thing she wanted was to explain herself.

On the walk back from the cliff, while her sock squished inside her boots, her clothes slowly dried, and her hair frizzed, she thought of Sehun. She imagined him laying on the dock, trying in his elbows. The hem of his shirt lifted slightly to reveal an inch of what promised to be a toned stomach. Abs? She hoped so. Beads of water clung to his fabulous hair. Really, the image was photo-shoot ready. A smile stretched across her lips. She couldn't wait to start painting him.

She had seen her share of good-looking guys while working at the restaurant, but how could she have missed someone like Sehun Oh? He had a face made for canvas. Then she sighed when the reality of her life came crashing back.

Because of him she had lost her job.

No.

Not because of him.

She had lost her job because she let her emotions get the better of her control. Hindsight is twenty-twenty. Nothing she could do now. And it wasn't like she would see Sehun again, so it was a good thing she had left him there on the dock.

A chill ran down her spine. She hadn't dried completely. First things first, medicine. That was the most important item on the long to-do list she had listed on her walk home. Maybe if she had remembered to take them that morning, she'd still have a job. She reached for the lightswitch by her shoulder and by some miracle the light in the hallway turned on. Mansae! Her mother had paid the power bill after all.

She pushed away from the door and took off her boots. They fell to their sides with a noise. Leftover seawater exited from inside. Followed by her socks. She wiggled her toes, feeling the hardwood floor beneath her pruned skin.

The door to the second-floor bedroom opened, stopping her way to the kitchen. "Suzy-ah? Is that you?"

She didn't have to wait for her mother's thin body at the top of the stairs. Her mother had been beautiful once. Before Suzy's diagnosis. Now, while she buttoned her store clerk uniform, she looked . . . tired. The lines on her face seemed to deepen with each month that passed. The black hair she tied in a ponytail was tangled and badly in need of conditioner, maybe even a trim to get rid of the split ends. They had been living on generic shampoo for months. In order to pay the bills and buy medicines, her mom had to work multiple jobs, and the stress had taken it's toll on her body.

Guilt sank like a boulder in Suzy's stomach. Her job at the resturant had helped ease some of the burden her condition put on the two of them. Without that money, they would have to choose between paying utilities and buying medicines. The medicines always won out. She sagged against the door again.

"Why are you wet?"

The apprehension in her mother's voice, more so than the question, whipped Suzy's head up. Her mother climbed down the stairs and headed straight toward her.

"I got fired today," Suzy said. No use in hiding the truth when she didn't know how long it would take to find another job.

Concern was written all over her mother's face as she asks, "Why weren't you answering your phone?"

Hitting her head against the door, Suzy reached into her pocket and took out her iPhone 4 with cracks on the screen. Water dripped out of it. "I forgot I had it on me when I jumped off the cliff near the resturant."