Page 59 of Accidentally Falling For My Best Friend
I must have forgotten to add them this morning with how distracted I was.
Fuuuuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I take a deep breath. No need to panic, it’ll be fine. I changed everything last night, so my pump’s reservoir has a good amount of insulin, which I usually only change every two to three days anyway. If I avoid carbs, I can stretch that even longer, and we’re flying home first thing on the 26th. I put in a new sensor then too, and those only need to be changed every week or two, so I won’t actually need anything.
Aspen must see the panic on my face. “Everything okay?”
I take one more deep breath willing my features to calm. “Yeah. I meant to add my phone charger to my bag this morning and forgot. No big deal, I can get another one when we land.” I actually did forget my phone charger, because of course I didwith how today is going, and I decide not to worry her further with the news of my missing supplies.She eyes me skeptically but drops it, and we eventually make it through security.
“Do we have time for coffee?” she asks hopefully, looking longingly at the coffee shop we hurry past.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think so, they’ve already called our flight overhead to start boarding,” I remind her apologetically as we continue to our gate. We’re not the last to board, but rushing around this morning has been so stressful that I feel like we’ve accomplished something amazing by the time we’re both in our seats on the plane.
The flight is only about two hours, so our first-class seats are two wider ones that make a row near the front. Aspen takes the window and gives me the aisle. After the drama of this morning, we both try to distract ourselves. She has a book and I listen to my favorite financial podcasts while playing with the Ghost Cube Oak got me last Christmas.
The first hour of the flight is blissfully uneventful. We’re offered snacks and refreshments, and I almost start to believe the day could be redeemed. But then, there’s unexpected turbulence. The seatbelt sign isn’t even on when the cabin jolts, violently sending the flight attendants who are attempting to finish their rounds to scramble for balance.
The one nearest me is pushing a metal cart full of different drink options up the narrow aisle when it happens. Luckily, they weren’t pouring hot coffee or anything, and no one is spilled on. Unfortunately for me, the whole cart is jerked into my arm, snagging on the raised edge of my continuous glucose monitor and ripping it right out of my tricep.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
My insulin pump relies on my continuous glucose monitor to constantly check my blood sugar levels, and the newer pump I have now can adjust the amount of insulin it gives me based on those numbers.
I can tell when my blood sugar is too high or too low depending on what symptoms I experience, but it’s been years since I went more than a few hours without a confirmed blood sugar reading. My pump will still give me the continuous rate of insulin, and I can still tell it to give me more or less based on how many carbs I eat, but part of the supplies I left at home included the back up machine I could use to manually check my levels, as well as another continuous glucose monitor sensor.
So now I’m left without any way to actually check my levels.
I’m less sure this will be fine.
Aspen’s parentssend their driver to pick us up. He assures us that her parents are at a church event and that the house will be empty when we arrive, so I’ll be able to change into more respectable clothing. I might not actually care what they think of me, but it kind of defeats the point of our whole arrangement if they don’t approve of me.
We enter the property down a long driveway surrounded by old trees, passing an elaborate fountain before pulling up at the grand entrance; the mansion has to be worth millions. Once inside, the over-the-top luxury feel is complete with a curved staircase seeming to wrap around the grand piano featured in the large entry space.
“It’s obnoxious, I know,” Aspen says, rolling her eyes as I take in the detailed moldings and polished marble floors.
“I’ve been around the Caldwells’ wealth enough that I’ll be able to feign a polite, unimpressed expression at your parent’s stuff if that’s what you’d prefer,” I offer through a smirk.
There’s a mischievous glint in her eyes that I’ve never seen before. “Yes! That will be perfect. Act underwhelmedand indifferent, it’ll quietly piss them off, and they’ll respect you more for it.”
“Sounds good,” I agree with a laugh.
Aspen leads me up the stairs and down a long hallway as she pulls out her phone, showing me a text from her mother that looks like instructions explaining where we’re sleeping. “Oh, good. Our room assignments, just in time,” she says sarcastically. “Obviously, I’ve talked about how antiquated my parent’s beliefs are when it comes to relationships. That’s basically the entire reason we’re supposedly dating in the first place, but in case you were doubting just how strict they are, they have us staying in not only separate rooms, but in separate wings of the house.”
“Oh darn,” I tease, not minding that I won’t need to sleep on the floor in a shared room with her to maintain our ruse. Even though we’ve slept in the same bed before, and I’m confident we could do it again without it feeling awkward in any way, I wouldn’t want to.
If I’m being honest, the only person I ever want to share a bed with again is Oakley. “Do we have time to shower before they get back?”
Opening the door to what I assume is my room, she waves me in with an expression that tells me she’s already exhausted. “Yeah, just text me when you’re ready and I’ll come find you so we can do formal introductions.”
I nod and enter my room. I take a second to unpack my things, wondering if there’s an iron in here anywhere, but I settle on hanging my clothes in the bathroom and hoping for the best. Oakley’s been blowing up my phone all day, and I’ve been trying to keep up with his conversation without completely ignoring Aspen.
Oakley
Seriously, this is bullshit. It doesn’t feel like Christmas at all when you’re not here.
Parker
Aren’t you with your brothers?
