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Candace comes to his side. She wipes her hands down her apron and says, “Hey, Miss Turner. I can’t wait for you to taste our lasagna. Right J?” She wraps her hands around his biceps, tilting her head up, she smiles sweetly at Jaden.
He pats her hands as he stares at me.
I swallow hard when she calls him J. My heart clenches tight, my stomach hardens, I bite down hard and turn my gaze away from Jaden’s for a second. Collecting myself, I draw in a deep breath, then let it out slowly.
I turn back to Candace and say, “I’m looking forward to it, Candace. I should check on Samantha and Bob. You two look like you’ve got things under control. Good Job.” I step away from their station and head toward Bob and Samantha’s. I need to put space between Jaden, Candace, and me.
Each team has all their ingredients ready to go when the thirty minutes have ended. They unwrap the ball of dough and begin to divide it with a spatula. The women go first by taking a piece of dough and flattening it into a thick disk between their hands, then feeding it through the pasta roller. Each team finishes making the long lasagna ribbons. Carefully they slip them into the boiling water, keeping a close eye on the pot.
The hardest part of this dish is making sure the cooked pasta ribbons don’t tear when lifting them from the hot water. It’s time consuming, but they all manage to place the first layer in the long rectangle baking pans, then the meats, cheeses, and vegetables, whatever their recipes call for. Since there isn’t enough time during class to bake these delicious dishes, I have them place their lasagnas in the large refrigerator until their next class.
15
JADEN
The look in Blaire’s eyes when Candace gripped my arm in class this morning told me all I need to know. Whether or not she’s my instructor, she has feelings for me. I want her to know we share those emotions. When classes are done, I’ll find a way of doing so that won’t get her fired or me expelled.
After working my shift on Friday night at The Oasis, I get into my car and drive toward the beach. It’s late, or early, really, but I need to unwind since Blaire and her friend didn’t show up again for dinner and drinks. She’s avoiding me on purpose. I can’t wait for classes to end in a few weeks.
The traffic light turns yellow, and I gun my car to beat the red light…
Forcing my eyes open, I don’t know where the fuck I am. There are constant beeping sounds, but I can’t move. My entire body hurts like fuck. I try again to raise my right arm, but it’s stuck. I glance down and see it’s in a cast.
What the fuck?
Using my left hand, I rub my eyes to clear my vision, then look around. I’m in a hospital room. I look down at myself and see wires attached to me. On the top of my left hand is an I-V. I follow the tube up to the saline bag hanging from the pole. There are two monitors. One has all my vitals; the other I don’t know what it’s for.
“Well, good morning, Mr. Lugo,” a woman says as she enters my room.
“Good? What’s good about it? What happened? What day is it?” I ask as she checks my I-V and the bag of saline. She pushes some buttons, then straightens the bed covers for me.
“You’re awake, young man. That’s what’s good about it.” She walks to the other side of the room and opens the blinds slightly, then fixes the sheet on that side.
“I’m Lynn, your nurse for today. Mary is my CNA; she’ll be right in to take your vitals.” Lynn walks to the foot of my bed.
“You were in a car accident. You’re lucky to only hurt your arm.” She pats my leg and smiles.
“Shit.” I drag my hand through my hair.
“Where are my parents?” I ask.
“They were here a few minutes ago. They may have gone down for breakfast. They’ve been here since you were brought in two days ago.”
“Wait, what? Two days ago? So, it’s Monday? Or is it Tuesday?”
“It’s Monday morning. You were brought in very early on Saturday morning.” Lynn checks my chart, then turns when Mary enters the room, pushing a small machine on wheels.
“Hi, Mary. Mr. Lugo finally woke up,” Lynn says.
“Good to see you awake. I need to take your vitals, Mr. Lugo.” Mary steps closer to me and plugs into the blood pressure cuff already wrapped around my left bicep.
“Open, please, and hold this under your tongue.” She pushes a thermometer into my mouth.
“And one last thing–your index finger, please.” She clamps something on my finger, and I lie still.
“Oh my, god. Jaden, my sweet Jaden,” my mom cries as she rushes to my side. Her eyes are glassy as she grabs my fingers that stick out of the full cast on my arm.
“My baby.”
