His voice is soft and down low to the ground.
“Your mom’s down at the other end of the hallway now,” he says. “It’s just you and me. Are you okay? Can you breathe?”
“Kind of,” I say.
“Is everything else okay? You’re not hurt?”
I laugh. How is this not hurt? But I know what he means. “No, I’m okay.”
“Can I come in?”
“I don’t want you to see me like this.”
“Okay,” he says. “That’s fair. In case it helps, I pretty much like how you look all the time.”
“Pretty much?” I laugh again, slightly less hysterical this time. “What’s the situation where you don’t like how I look?”
“Uhhh... I guess when you’re sad. But that’s more of an ‘I don’t like that you’re sad’ situation and less of an ‘I don’t find you attractive when you’re sad’ situation.”
“Nice save.”
“Thank you.”
I wipe my eyes. Unlock the door. Shift to the side so there’s enough room for him to slip in.
Ash locks the door again and sits next to me. “So this is what the girls’ restroom looks like,” he says evenly.
“It’s not authentic without a crying girl,” I reply.
He holds up his arm. “May I?”
I duck underneath it, curling against his side. His arm is heavy across my shoulders, and his other hand comes around to rest on my knee, closing me in a protective circle.
“This fuckin’ sucks,” I say.
“Sure does.”
“You didn’t happen to bring gummies with you, did you?”
“Unfortunately no. I have a strict policy that they don’t leave my bedroom.”
“Ugh. That’s probably a good policy. Why did you come today?”
“To watch you.”
“It doesn’t hurt too much?”
“Everything hurts too much. But I can’t stop doing everything, so I make myself do something. Today, I came here.”
“To hang out with my mom?”
“To watch you run, dummy, like I just said.”
I laugh again. It’s much easier to breathe now, and my shoulders and legs have relaxed. “Sorry. It’s hard to believe people sometimes.”
“When they tell you they’re interested in you?”
“Yeah. I think they want something from me.”
