Page 54 of No Place Like You

“I will,” I assure her through a laugh. Just then, Dexter stalks back into the room with a stack of magazines in his arms and a large Crunch bar on top. He gives us a wary look once he takes in our stifled smiles and lingering giggles.

“What were you guys talking about?”

“Nothing,” Janet answers. “Just the efficiency of proper packaging materials and prolonged sun exposure.”

“Okaaay,” he answers, his eyes narrowing. “I gotVogue,Cosmopolitan, and a very interesting copy ofIn Touch.”

Janet reaches forIn Touch. “Oh, Brangelina reunion!”

He plucks out the Crunch bar before handing Janet the rest of the magazines. “And this”—he extends the chocolate bar in my direction after plopping back in his seat—“is for you, milady.”

I beam at him and take my treat from his fingers. “Thank you.”

We’re interrupted by two short knocks at the door. “Sorry I’m late.” Charles rushes to Janet’s side, pecking her temple before placing the overnight bag in his hand on a nearby chair. “I got caught up on a quick work call, and it ran later than I thought.”

“It’s okay,” Janet assures. “Dex and Lucy have been keeping me company.” The two exchange looks, something that hints atI told you so.

We’re interrupted by another knock on the door, followed by the entrance of a woman in red-wine-colored scrubs. She smiles kindly at Janet, bustling around her bedside table and pressing buttons on the blue box attached to a metal pole, where tubes and bulbous bags of clear fluid hang. “I’m just going to start your antibiotics and the anti-nausea medication we gave you this morning so you don’t feel too sick again.”

Another nurse enters the room, handing over some supplies like a fresh bag of mystery fluid and a random roll of tape. She lingers around, repositioning Janet so she’s comfortable and wrapping a vinyl blood pressure cuff around Janet’s arm. “This is Lisa,” the nurse pushing a syringe into Janet’s IV explains. “She’s just going to grab a set of vitals for me and make sure you’re comfortable.”

It starts to get a little crowded in the small room. Charles moves around so he doesn’t get in the way, and Dexter and I scoot our chairs further back against the wall under the TV. Dexter reaches for my hand and stands, looking at Charles while jutting a thumb toward the door and moving a finger between us, signaling our exit.

“You okay?” Dexter asks once we’re in the hallway.

I nod. “I’m good.”

He nods too in response, smiling softly at my fingers twisting in front of me. “You, uh…you hungry?”

We haven’t eaten anything since the yogurt I inhaled before we left the apartment and the Gatorade Dexter bought at the vending machine. “Uh, yeah. A little.” My stomach decides to protest just then with a deep growl. We both chuckle. “Okay, maybe more than just a little.”

He gently slides his hand into mine and stares at it, our hands linked together with his thumb stroking my knuckles and his arm brushing mine. We haven’t really talked about what happened earlier when we made each other come while in a post-sleep haze. And I’m sure we will at some point, but right now, I just want to focus on the low timbre in his voice and the balmy caresses against my skin. And how all of it makes me feel giddy and hopeful.

“Would you like to join me in the cafeteria?” he asks playfully. “I hear the mystery meat here is top notch.”

I swear, I could throw my arms over his shoulders and kiss him. “It’s a date.”

Dexter

“So? What happened after that?”

I shrug, holding back a laugh while looking at Lucy’s wide eyes and gaping mouth. I just finished telling her about the time my sister and I lured a stray dog home only to find out my parents’ excuse for never letting us have one—that my dad had a heavy pet dander allergy—was in fact true, not a ruse to avoid responsibility for yet another living being.

“After six hours of hiding it in Janet’s room, sneaking it scraps and praying to the gods it wouldn’t make a peep, we got caught,” I explain. “My dad’s allergies got so bad, he had to go to the emergency room.”

“Aww,” she says, letting a fake frown shine through the laughter in her eyes.

“We named him Zac Michael Murray,” I explain.

She responds with a confused tilt of her head.

“Janet had an obsession withHigh School MusicalandA Cinderella Story,” I explain. “So Zac Efron and Chad Michael Murray consumedmuch of her bedroom walls. And a surplus of cheetah print and magenta bedding.”

A twinkle in Lucy’s eyes takes over her laughter. “Our parents never let us have a dog either,” she explains. “But we never resorted to some covert scheme to hide a dognapping.”

“He came willingly,” I defend. “It just involved some treats and baby talk.”

“So no catcher’s net?”

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