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Knock, knock.
I sat up on a bed that wasn’t mine.
Chase walked into the room with a tray of soup.
“My mom makes the best Chicken Noodle Soup when I’m feeling gross. Thought it might help you.” He looked at me, his brows scrunched. How long had I been in his bed. Gross? He thinks I’m gross? My shirt was wet from sweat. Had my disguise melted away? I pulled the blanket over my head.
“Um, Grey? Are you okay?” Chase asked.
My stomach snarled.
“I don’t want you to see me like this,” I whined. Hoping he would take the hint and get the hell out of his room.
“Okay. I just wanted to check on you. I’ve got to get to practice. I’ll just set the tray here for you.” The clank of dishes came before the sound of a shutting door. I threw the covers off of me.
Steam drifted away from the warm bowl. From the distance of the bed I could tell the soup had the perfect noodle to broth ratio. I’d eaten that soup before. If Chase could duplicate his mom’s recipe, that boy was a keeper.
I hopped off the bed and carefully took a seat on the floor beside the tray. I filled the spoon with a noodle and a carrot. Still too hot, I blew a little air on the bite. The noodle held all the flavor of the perfectly seasoned broth. The taste of the pepper lingered on my tongue, sharpening each individual flavor. I took another bite. Before I knew it, the bowl was empty.
A burp crawled out of my mouth.
My gut did a cartwheel.
I jumped off the floor desperate for a bathroom. Chase and his roommate walked out of the apartment as soon as I cracked open the bedroom door. I opened the first door I saw, only to find a linen closet. I held my legs together. Whatever was happening in my gut would not be a pretty site. The next door I opened was the bathroom, thank fuck! I dropped myself on the toilet, plummeting into the water.
“Mother fucker! Put the seat down!” I shouted, standing to lower the toilet seat. My face heated. As soon as I dropped my body into position, all hell broke loose.
A door opened and closed inside the apartment.
No, no, no…
“Grey, I gotta grab my mouth guard.” Chase called from outside of his room. “Holy fuck, Luke, that shit was brutal!” He lowered his voice.
“Okay.” I answered from the bathroom, not the bedroom where he assumed I was.
Mortification spread through my entire soul.
He would never let me live this one down.
***
Chase: Um… You owe me.
Me: For what?
Chase: Blowing up my bathroom
He added a video of fireworks going off.
Me: Name your price. Anything to never talk about the big “incident” ever again.
Chase: Help me?
Me: Of course! What do you need?
Chase: I keep missing plays. Can you help me practice?
It was a big ask. It would be a huge reminded of all I left behind. It hit way too close to home. If he had asked me to wear a sun dress, or paint my nails pink, I would have without questions. If he asked me to go to a party, I would have.
