Page 51 of Dearly Unbeloved
“Yeah?”
“You’re distracting me,” I admit, begrudgingly.
“What do you—oh.” She pulls her hand away, and I look back at her to see her eyebrow raised and her lips in a smirk.
“Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything!” she argues, but she’s smiling, and she doesn’t seem to notice the lights and sounds and greasy deep-fryer smells surrounding us.
It’s a problem howrelieved I am.
I throw the ball—bowlthe ball—and take down seven pins. Before I can blink, Rose wraps her arms around me from behind, hugging me tightly.
“Look at you go,” she says, before pressing her lips to my cheek. “Well done.”
“Thanks.” My voice comes out breathier than I’d like, like she’s stolen half the air from my lungs with one kiss on the cheek. I pull out of her arms and turn around, clearing my throat. “You’re a good teacher.”
“I know.” She flashes me a smug smile and a shrug as she walks back to the bench. There she is. I watch her go, wondering when that smug smile stopped bothering me so much.
Jazz skips up beside me, her ball precariously balanced in her arm. “You know,” she begins, her voice low enough that I have to strain to hear her over the crash of pins from the next lane, “I stalked your Facebook page before we hired you.”
“I wish I could say that surprised me, but why do you bring it up?”
Jazz takes her time, bowling straight down the center of the lane and somehow knocking down only one pin. Liam still cheers for her, and she blows him a kiss before turning back to me. “You don’t post a lot, but your parents tag you all the time. I know this isn’t your first time bowling.”
It’s been years since I went bowling with my parents. How far back did she go?
“Okay, it’s not my first time. So what?”
“Nothing. Just…” Jazz trails off, looking past me to where Rose is talking to Kami, looking a lot happier than she did ten minutes ago. “It was a good idea. You really understand her in a way I’m not sure anyone else ever has.”
The relief I felt at seeing Rose less overwhelmed is replaced with guilt. This constant emotional whiplash is becoming far too common. I haven’t known peace since the second I woke up half-naked in Rose’s hotel room.
24
ROSE
Heading to work early. Try not to miss me. - S
P.S. 19 days until freedom!!!!!
My alarm is splitting my head, but I can’t bring myself to turn it off. I squeeze my eyes together like it might dampen the sound, and when it doesn’t, I force myself to sit up. My body moves like I’m dragging my limbs through mud, a heavy, fuzzy weight pressing down on me.
The room is pitch black, save for the light of my phone screen.
7:03
It’s already an hour later than I usually get up, but I snoozed the previous six alarms, and I can’t afford to snooze another and still make it to work. So I switch off my alarm and lay my phone face down on the nightstand, plunging the room into darkness.
My own breath feels heavy and thick in my lungs, mythoughts just a little out of reach.Get up. Shower. Coffee. Car. Drive. Work.
Get up.
Get. Up.
But the distance between my bed and the floor feels a mile long. My body rebels against the thought of putting so much as a toe down on the hardwood floor, my lungs screaming because I can’t seem to force air into them.
I’m semi-aware of my brain screaming, “Not today,” trying to remind me about things like promotions, paychecks, and never-ending to-do lists. But right now, I can’t remember why I ever cared about those things.
