Page 32 of Drawn Together
Of course, I did lose a best friend once—though death was not involved—and in stark contrast, I got rid of all evidence of him as soon as he was out of my life. The only thing left of Austin is the scar he left behind, deep in my chest cavity, where no one else bothers to go. A ghost sitting at the end of an empty hallway, warding all others away.
Fletcher doesn’t respond, he just sips on his coffee, staring at the books on our table and to the ugly pumpkin beside him.
“Can I ask how—”
“Prostate cancer. He found out too late, and even though he tried treatments, he only made it four months after the diagnosis.” The way he says it is so monotonous, like he’s repeated it a hundred times before—like he’s practiced it in the mirror.
Nausea rises in my stomach at the touch of sadness in his hazel eyes. I stand up, my chair leaving an awful screeching noise into the room from the motion.
Fletcher glances from me above him to the people sitting around us. “What are you doing?”
I raise a hand. “Stand up.”
“I’m okay.”
“It’s mandatory.”
He looks around to the others in the coffee shop for support, but they are all so engrossed in their own media and drinks they don’t care what I’m doing.
“They’re not even looking.” I wave my hand.
“They definitely are.”
“Do you care that much?”
“I would care less if I knew why you were standing.”
“Humor me.”
“I think you can humor yourself.”
“Then let me humor you.”
He puts his hands in his lap and fidgets. “I’m okay.”
“Get. Up.” I spit the words out, and he must either be too tired to fight me or my authoritative voice is getting better, because he finally stands.
I lift my chin and take a couple steps closer to him.
“What—”
My hands start to reach between his arms, his hands stuck in his pockets, but he snaps them close to his torso.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to give you a hug, if you’d just— Ugh, come down a little bit—” I didn’t take our height difference into consideration for this assignment. I am a fairly tall woman—well, above average—but that seems to be a pointless fact in this position.
“This is really unnecessary.”
“It’s a requirement.”
“But it’s not.”
I am still trying to find a way to wrap my arms around his ridiculously long torso while his arms are searching for a place to go without landing on me.
My arms curve around his stomach to his back and I squeeze him tight, a big umph coming from his chest and a puff of air over my ear.
“What…is happening?”
