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While I slept, all I wanted was for Alex to come and lie with me, but he was gone out of town yesterday, getting ready for prom I guess and my mom was in and out of my room so much it was probably for the best. So, he doesn’t know I have been sick. It is at times like these I wish I had a phone.
Now it is Friday, the morning of prom and I am once again praying to the porcelain god as Adriel used to call it. My mom called me off school again, despite my protests. Dread fills me because Alex is going to go to school and not see me and who knows what the hell he is going to think. Too bad I don't know morse code. I would take a flashlight and send him a message through the window.
“Knock Knock. How are you feeling?” My mom asks. She has a tray filled with ginger ale and soda crackers.
“I am ok, I think.” I know now not to say that. Every time I say it, more comes out. She sits on the side of my bed, looking at me knowingly, with a sad look in her eye. It is making me uneasy.
“You were always the one most like me. Do you know that Imogen?” I shake my head in shock. I look the most like her, sure. But I know nothing of her life before us. “It is true. I was like you. Innocent. Kind. Quiet. Eager to please and unsure of everything around me.” Why do I feel like there is something she is trying to tell me? “Is there something you would like to share with me?” She asks, rubbing my forehead.
I am so lost right now. What should I be confessing? It’s like she thinks I know something, but instead I feel like she should be filling me in. “No. Nothing.” Sure I could tell her I am in love with a Latin God who loves me to the point of insanity. Sure I could tell her I lost my virginity weeks ago. I could tell her all of that, but why? She will find out when she is supposed to.
“Very well, Imogen. Just know I love you and I am here for you. All of my girls are precious to me.” She says before kissing my forehead and walking to the door. “I have a women's ministry meeting for the next hour but then I will be home. Your father is gone to his weekly pastor and staff meeting.”
“Ok. I will be fine.” She nods before walking out. Geesh. Maybe I can go to..
The thought doesn’t finish because I am bolting to the toilet once again. Ugh. I swear it is like I am possessed by a spirit that knows when I am feeling better and insists on making me feel like I am purging my lungs.
Countless minutes later I am crawling practically on my hands and knees back to the bed. “I give up.” I say to myself before turning over. I need Alex.
“Fucking hell angel. Turn over and look at me.” I hear the words being whispered in my ear, but I feel like crap and I think I am dreaming. “Pequeña. Please look at me.”
“Mmm.” I know I am groaning but I am so scared that if I speak right now, I am going to release the nonexistent contents of my stomach on his lap.
“Baby how long have you been sick?”
“Yesterday.” I tell him. It might be safe to keep to one word at a time.
“Shit. I am sorry baby. I should have been here.”
“S’ok.” He puts some ginger ale to my lips and holds up my head before putting it back down. “More worried about tonight.” I tell him honestly.
“Don’t. We will make it. Can I ask you a question?” he says, rather sheepishly. “Does it come in the morning and wean off by the afternoon?”
“Yes. How do you know?”
“Well I should tell you..” his words are interrupted by the incensed voice of my father.
Now I know what hell is.
CHAPTER 27
This morning started out good. I woke up happy. Satisfied. And feeling like everything I have been working toward is within my grasp. Yesterday I took an early morning flight to Miami to check on my dad’s shop and to introduce myself to the workers that are there now. Yep you guessed it. I have decided I want to work in my family business. The baby, son or daughter I am working like hell to put inside of her, this is going to be their legacy and I want them to have access to it.
I have been thinking about it since I met her. Trying to figure out what my next move is going to be. How I am going to support the family that is going to come from between the sweetest thighs I have ever licked, has been weighing on me. On one hand I have this family legacy that is lucrative and has plenty of space for me. On the other hand, I could open my own tattoo shop and make plenty of money. Not as an inker myself, but as the owner.
