Riggs grunts near his bedroom door, taking the opportunity to escape. “Have fun dealing with whatever that is.” I shoot a scowl at his back, but his door is already closing behind him as I go back to strip searching Ash.
“Cora, if you wanted me naked, you just needed to say so. Normally, I’m not shy, but we do have an audience.” Ash lets out an ‘oof’ when I smack his trim stomach.
Don’t look at them, Cora. Think of Kael. NO boys, not even Ash. Dragging my gaze up from the toned abs, I meet his, blushing at my distraction but determined to finish my hunt. “Shut up, Ash. Turn around.” Amusement lighting his storm-colored eyes, he complies. “It’s gone. I thought I was crazy, but it’s really not there. You had a scar, Ash. From a nail on a dock when we were kids. Remember? I thought your mom was going to pass out when you came out of the water bleeding.”
Ash turns back to me, understanding and compassion softening his features. “Cora, we’ll explain as soon as we can, but…” His hands drift up to cup my face, tilting it up to him. "The blue glowy stuff? It changes you— some things are good, and some things aren't."
Uncomfortable at the fact that I'm not uncomfortable with his big hands on my skin, I step back, but he doesn't lower them until the last fingertip loses its purchase. Needing to dispel the odd, lingering feeling of affection, I go back to Drake.
“Your chicken pox scar is really gone?” He nods, remaining silent while I examine his complexion. “Guess I’m not crazy then. After I got out of the shower, I noticed my skin seemed different, where my chin was starting to break out was clear. With my mood swings from...everything-- well, breakouts and the bloating are usually the only way I notice that I’m still having a cycle."
Drake freezes, forehead puckered in concern. "Uh, Cora. You feeling okay?"
While I'm trying to figure out why he's asking, Blaise stage-whispers to Jag, "I thought she decided she isn't crazy?"
Even Jag is looking at me like I'm a few screws loose. "Cora, are you talking about your period? Not to be insensitive, but I'm nearly positive that's no longer possible."
I smirk at them all. Even though the reminder is painful, I finally have the barest edge of a silver-lining to exploit. "You all thought you were going to have a PMS-free roommate? Don't get me wrong, I was surprised and hesitant to bring it up to my doctor the first time, but as long as I have my ovaries, I'll still have the hormones, just not all of the stuff that comes with them." Even revealing that tidbit doesn't completely overshadow the sadness of the rest of it though. "The surgeons left what they could. If they'd taken my ovaries, it would have put me into early menopause. They thought the strain on my body while it recovered, if it recovered, would be too much." The guys look almost scared, and I don't get it. "What's wrong?"
"What's wrong is that we needed to know you can still have children." Riggs' curt reply comes from his open door where he stands, lips tight together in disapproval, making me feel like a kid that left the milk out then put it away after it spoiled without telling anyone.
"Well, I can't have them, but technically I could get a surrogate if I decide that's something I want to pursue. It's not exactly been on the agenda, but thanks for making me spell it out. Let me remind you, it's my body and I don't have to share a damn thing if I don't want to— especially after Blaise's barren remark, doesn't exactly make one want to broach the subject again."
"Cora, I'm sorry, again. I shouldn't have said that." I won't tell Blaise it's okay, but do nod at him. His head tips forward, hiding his features as his shoulders sag forward. Steeling myself from saying anything further, because he deserves to feel ashamed, I focus on Riggs.
He briefly looks contrite, and as if he wants to say something, but his attention is diverted by Jag. "You don't think they would?" Jag's lips are pinched tight at the corners where he clamped them shut at the question. It's Drake that answers.
"They certainly would, if they thought they could get away with it and succeed." Their double-speak is pissing me off, but Drake starts asking his own questions. "Cora, how well do you trust your doctors? Have they done any tests or exams you thought were odd?"
Bewildered, I shake my head. "Not that I've noticed, but what's fucking normal in my situation, Drake? Why does it matter that I actually got to keep part of my reproductive organs? For fuck's sake, I'm missing a goddamn kidney, and you're all stuck on my ovaries." Feeling the pins and needles along with the shortness of breath that herald a panic attack, I try to take deep, even breaths and change the subject. "Library. Please." Drake tries to reach out in what I imagine to be comfort, but I shy away. A hug right now might keep them from letting me go, and fresh air, even if it's only for the short walk to the library, sounds divine.