Page 71 of Skate the Line

Sunny sighs. “I did.”

“You went to the hospital? Are you okay?”

Okay, so her friend—Ruby?—is aware of Sunny’s unease when it comes to hospitals.

“I’m fine. Going to the hospital was the last worry on my mind.”

There’s silence, and Sunny sighs again. She holds the phone in one hand, but in the other, she’s holding a little piece of clay, inspecting it closely. “Rhodes took me to the hospital, and I felt obligated to tell him why I was acting like a lunatic.”

She wasn’t acting like a lunatic.

“You told him?” It’s pure surprise on the other end of the phone. “Nofuckingway.”

Sunny chokes out a sarcastic laugh. “I had to explain. I nearly had a freaking panic attack at the hospital, and then they started to ask all these questions, and I didn’t want to be alone, so I asked him to stay and?—”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.” Sunny’s chest expands before it falls with a slow breath easing from her mouth. She eventually places the clay on her bedside table, and it’s the perfect time to make my presence known.

Something I should have done three minutes ago.

I raise my hand to knock on the doorjamb.

“Did you tell himallof it?”

My eyebrow rises with my fist frozen in midair.

“If you’re referring?—”

“I am absolutely referring to how you’re not only fearful of hospitals but how you’re fearful of men in general and haven’t had sex infartoo long. God, when was the last time you had an orgasm?”

I choke on the information like it’s being shoved down my throat.

That was not what I was expecting.

Sunny spins and drops the phone.

My coughing and sputtering is so loud that her friend can hear me from beneath the bed.

“Oh god,”she says.

I ball my fist and pound on my chest. Sunny falls to the floor and snatches the phone up.

“I’m going to kill you,” she hisses at her friend.

She quickly silences her friend’s amused apology and tosses her phone onto her bed.

I take one look at Sunny on her knees with her lip pulled into her mouth. I’m going to respectfully ask her to kill me too.

Twenty-Five

SUNNY

I glance at the window.

Should I jump out of it now or later?

Embarrassment crawls over every inch of my skin.

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