THE ILLUSORY POWER OF BLACK FRIDAY
MY DORM ROOMis perfectly quiet when I slip back in after the shower. Sabin is flat on his stomach with his arms and legs spread out, hogging more than his share of my futon. Estelle, Zach, and Eric are also still asleep. I am still unnerved from the shower and glad to have silence, but I also want to revel in the absolute relief I feel now that I’ve purged myself of that fire story. Later I’ll have to examine every detail, but for now I want to take the high and run with it because I’ve had too much angst for today.
I settle in next to Sabin, and when he lets out a loud morning yawn, I clamp a hand down over his mouth. “Shhh!”
“What time is it?” he whispers.
I lean down and put my mouth by his ear. “Still early.” He starts to snore and I have to stifle a giggle. “Sabin, Sabin, Sabin!” I pat his shoulders.
He rouses slightly. “What is it, baby?”
“It’s Black Friday.”
“Oh.”
“Wanna go buy an unnecessarily big TV?”
“Totally.” He rolls over and beckons, so I crawl onto him and pin him down by putting my knees on either side of his belly. Sabin rubs his eyes and then blinks up at me. His voice is scratchy and raw, but he once again sounds like the boy I know and love. “Can we get one of those breakfast station thingies, too?”
“I don’t know what a breakfast station thingy is.”
“You know. It’s a combo toaster, coffeemaker whatchamahoozey with a teeny fold-down skillet.” He yawns again. “For half a strip of bacon and one small fried egg. A quail egg or somethin’.”
“Yes, we can get one of those.”
“And maybe a pair of roller skates?”
“If it’s a good bargain, yes.”
“Awesome. Let’s go.”
He sits up, pulls me closer so I’m grabbing onto him like a koala baby, and scoots us to the end of the futon.
“Chris’s room,” I direct him. “He’s making coffee to go.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He carries me easily, opening the door with one hand and holding me with the other.
He takes us down the hall, with me plastered to his chest and my arms and legs wrapped around him. I rub my nose against his. “It’s gonna be a really giant television, okay?”
He rubs my back. “Obscenely so.”
We get to Chris’s door and Sabin pauses before he turns the knob. “I’m so sorry. Last night was fucked up. Really fucked up. I love you, B.”
I am not going to cry again today. I’m not. “I love you, too,” I tell him.
An hour or so later, after stopping at a diner for breakfast, Chris, Sabin, and I pile back into the truck. I feel more than ready to shop. After what I just went through, and what I put Chris through, something more mindless seems direly necessary.
Sabin throws himself into the small back cab and lies down, giving me the front passenger seat.
“Which mall are we going to?” I ask. Chris pulls out of the parking lot and drives for a minute. “I was thinking the one in Reinhardt.”
I look at him. “Isn’t that, like, two hours away?”
“Yeah.” He takes a right turn and heads toward the highway. “It is.”
“Why that one?”
He shrugs. “Do you have anything else to do today?”
