I crept up to the bathroom door and grabbed the knob. It wasn’t locked, so I turned it and pushed the door open a little. I looked around the bathroom and through the glass shower, but she was nowhere to be seen. Then my eyes skimmed the floor and that’s when I found her.
She was huddled up beside the bathroom counter with her knees pulled up to her chin. She was without a drop of color; even her trembling lips were white. Her eyes were closed and her entire body shook violently.
I pushed the door open and dropped to my knees in front of her.
“Snowflake?” I plunged my hands into her hair and brought her face up to mine. “Baby, are you okay?”
I was starting to freak out. She looked similar to how I’d found her the very first time I ever saw her sweet face. Except this time, she looked even closer to death.
Sweat poured down her face and when she open her eyes to look at me, tears drained from them and slid down her pale face. I jumped up and ran to my cell phone on the dresser. When I got back to the bathroom, I dropped down to my knees again and started to dial 9-1-1.
I was about to press send when she placed a shaky hand over mind.
“Don’t,” she said softly.
I held my phone there, ready to call.
“Let me call the ambulance. You need to go to the hospital, baby.”
Fear. I’d known this fear with her before. The thought of something happening to her made me crazy. It made me lash out at anyone and anything close to me.
Her grip tightened on my hand and she attempted to smile at me. The side of her pasty lips lifted into a weak smirk.
“I’m f-fine. I p-promise,” she stuttered.
When she fell into my lap and wrapped her arms around me, I didn’t stop her. I laid my phone on the bathroom counter and held her in my arms as the bathroom fogged up from the hot shower.
Ten minutes later, she looked up at me with sad eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
“Don’t apologize. Just tell me what happened,” I said as I used my thumb to wipe away an errant tear from her cheek.
“I really don’t want to talk about it.”
I let her go when she started to get up. I followed her from the floor and stood in front of her.
“You can tell me. If something’s wrong with you, just tell me. It’s my job to take care of you, snowflake. I want to take care of you. “
And I would. For the rest of my life I’d make sure she was protected. I couldn’t stand seeing her like this and I’d do whatever it took to make sure she never felt sick or sad again.
She shook her head and took an aggravated breath. “It’s nothing, Zeke, and it’s not your job to take care of me. It’s my job to take care of me. Just drop it, please.”
She stepped around me to pull a towel down from the shelf, and then she started to pull off her clothes.
“Please shut the door behind you,” she said bluntly.
I wasn’t sure what had just happened, but the girl in front of me was not the girl I’d just had carefree sex with in my car. This wasn’t the girl who spread her legs for a speaker just an hour ago and seduced me with her soft moans and cries. This was a sick and stressed girl. One that I thought no longer existed.
I said nothing as I turned and walked out of the bathroom. I closed the door behind me and stood there in shock. Her words had hurt my feelings and I didn’t fucking like it one bit. Feelings were new to me in general. The happy ones I could handle, no questions asked, but when Snowflake cut me, it hurt worse than having my ass beat every day by my dad.
I didn’t bother eating. Instead, I left the bedroom and went into the main room with the boys. They were passing around a blunt and the smoke around the room was thick. I fell into the chair next to Finn and, without asking any questions, he passed it to me.
I’d slowed down on smoking since finding Patience again. She was good for me in more ways than one. I didn’t need to feel numb and buzzed all the time when I had her on my side. That wasn’t the case in that moment. I needed to relax and I needed to block out the hurt I felt in the pit of my stomach by being pushed away from her.
I hit the tip hard and sucked the smoke into my lungs. Leaning back in the chair, I let the burn work its way down my throat and into my chest before I exhaled. I hit it once more and passed it to one of the strange girls who was probably going to be one of the boys’ playthings for the night.
I looked over at Chet who was stuffing his face with peanut butter-dipped sour cream and onion chips. Eating fucked-up foods was Chet’s thing when he was high. He tossed a chip in his mouth and then licked the peanut butter from his fingers.