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“No human can fit in this,” I say, my voice unable to reach its normal timbre. “These are fucking doll pyjamas.”
They both look at me, then each other, and start laughing. Figgy bats his paw at me, unhappy with my proximity, with my tone, or, I guess, with my existence in general.
“It better be that small if it’s coming out of my body,” Nova jokes, laying her hand over mine, her fingers tracking across my palm as she steals the blue scrap of fabric.
Dizziness washes over me, and the blood drains from my head in an instant. The caffeine racing through me doesn’t help, and I lay my forehead on the counter.
“You okay?” she asks, and I can feel my hair move as Figgy stretches forward to sniff me. It’s the closest he’s ever gotten.
“Yup. I just got visuals.”
“My brother-in-law passed out in the delivery room. Hit his head on the side of a table and had to get six stitches. My sister was so mad.” Jess’ voice tips into an amused tone like she’s becoming more comfortable with this visit.
I lift my head to gawk at them. “Why are you telling me this?” My voice is high-pitched and playful, which sends them deeper into making fun of me.
The sounds of the room blend together, and the distance between them and me grows with each breath. The pounding in my chest eases, and a numbness settles over my mind. In moments I’m forgotten as they get back to sorting baby clothes.
I quietly finish my coffee and pull out my phone to check my social media. I don’t have much—my brothers both hate cell phones and anything that resembles communication. I’m not too far behind them. Mostly. I have a group chat with Skiz, River, and Lou, and then I follow a bunch of car pages. I’m not a mechanic because I’m obsessed with cars. I’m a mechanic because I dropped out of high school and needed a job. I’m good at it, and it keeps me moving. Cars make sense to me.
A text notification catches my eye. An unknown number with a strange area code texted me about half an hour ago.
Unknown: Do you really know her?
I frown at the message and spin through the people I know, but nothing makes sense. It must be a wrong number, so I exit the message and check hockey scores instead.
“Do you want to stay for breakfast?” Nova asks, and I wonder about her willingness to invite people into her life. I get the sense that she’s not alone often—one of those girls surrounded by people at all times.
Jess glances at me then picks up the box. “No, I should get home.”
My face is set in a grimace at the idea of my ex and the mother of my kid having breakfast together with me. Man, that’s fucked. And they obviously picked up on my discomfort.
She turns to the door and Nova looks at me sternly, nodding her head sharply toward Jess’ back.
I sigh, then slip off the stool and jog to her. “Here, let me help you. It’s slippery on the steps.”
Jess waits for me to jam my feet into my boots, and I take the box while she laces hers up. The painful awkwardness is palpable, and why the fuck does it take so long to tie a shoe? Either that or the seconds have slowed to minutes.
I follow Jess outside to her car, and she opens the back door for me to put the box in. “Hey, thanks for that,” I say, nodding to the house. “I think she’s kinda lonely here.”
“She has you,” Jess says, transferring her keys from one hand to the other.
I shove my hands in my hoodie pockets, the light skiff of snow covering the ground reminding me that I should have grabbed a coat.
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s enough sometimes.”
Jess smiles at me with so much hidden meaning, and it plucks at my curiosity.
“What’s that smile for?” I ask.
“I wish you knew the effect you have on people, Zeke.” Her blunt statement shocks me back, and by the way her cheeks bloom a deep red, it wasn’t a statement she’d meant to say aloud. A car turns up the street, adding the hum of its engine to the silence.
“I…” I don’t know why, but I can’t look at her.
I watch the small car pass by, driving so slowly. It’s creeping along the street, and I’m convinced that time has slowed down as the woman driving turns my way with straight blond hair and big ass sunglasses. Jess shifts in front of me like she was moving through pudding, staring at the ground. I am moving faster than the world, and that’s why I never understand it.
“I don’t know a lot about this stuff.” Jess cuts through my trance, and the car rumbles out of sight. She crosses her arms and takes a big breath as if her words will take effort to force out. “But if you had ever looked at me the way you look at her, I’d have never let you go.”
She smooshes her lips together like she regrets saying it. When I don’t respond, she scurries around her car and gets in.
