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“Can you call Easton? I need to take a walk—well, fuck. You know what I mean.” I say, tone bitter and ears hot.
“Go—what? Why? Jackson, I’m sorry if Wesley is crying—”
“No. It’s not Wesley, I just need a fucking moment.” I’m the mute for a reason. I need silence and peace and this emotional overload is making me crack. Hard.
She can hear from my tone that I’m nowhere near messing around because she bends down to pick up her phone.
As she does, something happens.
My arms twitches.
My eyes grow wide, and I stare at it, willing it to happen again.
Any movement, any feeling.
“Did you see that?” Cara gasps.
I nod my head.
“Did you feel anything?” Her voice takes on an excited tone, almost screeching by her last word.
“N-no.” I realize, I didn’t feel a thing. “I didn’t feel anything.”
Some of her excitement deflates, but then her eyes grow with excitement again. “That has to be a good sign though, right? What does that mean?” She’s nearly bubbling with happiness, but I don’t want to get my hopes up, so I shut it down.
“It was nothing, probably a nerve reaction or something. Can you call Easton?”
She stands up, her smile falling flat at my tone. “Oh, um, sure.” She unlocks her phone, giving me a look as she dials him. Walking away, I can hear her as she walks behind me and goes into the other room. She tells him what happened, the excitement still in her tone.
I tune her out, not paying attention to her false excitement and unnecessary hope.
All the while still staring at my arm, hoping for something.
Anything.
