Beautiful Tragedy (A Standalone Romance Novel) (11 page)

I had the strongest urge to rub my face against her
hair, but that would seem a little…desperate and weird, if she woke up and
caught me doing it. Instead I settled for the hair smell again. She always
smelled so good, I thought to myself, just before falling back to sleep.

I woke up again when the sunlight started coming
through the blinds. I had hair in my face now. I knew it wasn’t mine; it was
too soft and shiny. Molly was still in my arms. Sometime during the night I
must have pulled her in closer, because now she had her leg just slightly
draped over my knee, and her left hand on my chest. I was still trying not to
move. I was afraid…no, I knew that if I woke her, it would break the spell.

I lay there like that for half an hour or so before
she woke up. When she did, she looked surprised. She hadn’t meant to fall
asleep, that much was obvious. She was looking around the living room with wide
eyes like she wasn’t even quite sure where she was. I hoped that she wasn’t
going to be upset. It was not a big deal really. We had slept together, but
that was it. The pervert in me liked that I phrased it that way. I tried to
change it to something less perverse in my head, so when I opened my mouth I
didn’t piss her off. I threw caution to the wind and said, “Good morning.”
Scary stuff, I know.

“Hi,” she said. “I’m guessing I fell asleep?”

“Yeah,” I told her. “Right before Arnie ruined the
cake.” She smiled at that.

“That’s good, I hate that part. Gilbert smacks him
around then, right?”

I nodded and she said, “What part did you fall asleep
during?” She was testing me. She wanted to know how long after she fell asleep
that I did. If I said right away, she wouldn’t believe me. But if I said I
finished the entire movie then she would wonder why I didn’t just wake her up
and take her home.

“Right after Gilbert smacks him around,” I told her.
It was the truth.

She moved her neck back and forth and smoothed down
her hair. I wanted to tell her that she’s gorgeous in the morning, but that
sounded more like a boyfriend and less like a friend. I had no problems
admitting that I wanted to be her boyfriend, but I was so afraid of scaring her
away now and having no relationship with her at all.

“Want coffee?” I asked her.

“Yes,” she said with a smile. “Please. I’m going to
use your bathroom.”

While she was in the bathroom, I put the coffee on.
Then I started making my juice drink. I have a combination of vitamins I put in
it, so I was doing that when she walked back in. I sat a cup and the creamer
next to the coffee pot. She poured herself a cup, left it black and took a big
sip of it without even making a bitter face. Awesome girl!

“What are you making?” she asked me as she took a seat
at the counter.

“It’s a juice drink. I put some vitamins and herbs
into it. It gives me energy.”

She was nodding. She didn’t seem to think it was too
weird. “What kind of vitamins?” she asked.

“Um…there’s B12, Vitamins C and E, and some
electrolytes too, magnesium and potassium.”

“What’s in the powder stuff?”

“It’s protein.”

“For muscle?” she said.

“Something like that,” I told her. Actually Molly, I
imagined myself saying. I have a tumor in my brain. Because of that, my body
doesn’t absorb vitamins and minerals the way it should and I get sick. The
increased protein helps my body to do what it should just naturally do. I
didn’t say it out loud. If she wasn’t ready for a kiss, she wasn’t ready for that.
I poured some in a glass and said, “Would you like to try it?”

She took it and smelled it. It reminded me of Jake
saying it smelled nasty.

“How does it smell?” I asked her.

“Good,” she said, “Fruity.” I knew she was smarter
than Jake. She took a sip and said, “Hmm, it’s really good.”

“You want a bagel to go with it? I think I’m going to
have one.”

“Sure,” she said. “By the way, I’m sorry for falling
asleep on you last night.”

I smiled and said, “Are you sorry for falling asleep
on me in the middle of the movie, or literally falling asleep on me.”

She shook her head and then with a smile she said,
“Both, I suppose.”

“Don’t be,” I told her. “It was the best night’s sleep
I got in a while. Do you want cream cheese on your bagel?”

She smiled. “No thanks,” she said.

After our bagels were done, we took them out on my
little balcony. It overlooked the back lawn of a dilapidated, should-have-been-torn-down-years-ago
house and across the street from one of those fortune teller places with the
big neon palm out front. Needless to say, the view is not what we’re paying for
here. While we ate I asked her, “So how long have you known Megan?”

“We met in kindergarten and bonded over our first
haircut.”

“Your first haircut?”

“Yeah, you know she cut my bangs, I cut hers. All
kindergarteners do it. Didn’t you?”

I thought about it for a minute. Part of what my
cancer treatments have done to me is mess with some of my memories. I don’t
really have short term, or long term problems, per se. It’s just harder to
remember things then it used to be. Good old radiation zap to the head about
thirty times will do that.

“I don’t remember doing it,” I said. It was as honest
an answer as I could come up with.

“How about you and Jake?” she asked.

“Jake moved into the neighborhood when I was eight and
he was seven. I acted like I didn’t know him at school, but at home we played
together almost every day.”

“Why did you act like you didn’t know him at school?
Was he already a little weird?”

I laughed at that. I loved the fact that she liked
Jake, yet she also loved to pick on him. She never did it in a mean way, just
funny.

“I was eight,” I told her. “I had just started third
grade. Third grade is a big step up from second. It was about my image, my
reputation. I couldn’t be seen running around the playground with a seven-year-old.”

“Of course,” she said. “What was I thinking?”

“What about high school?” I asked her. “Were you a
cheerleader, prom queen or all of the above?”

She smiled one of those far away smiles that said the
memories were either bad or bittersweet. Her eyes looked kind of sad as she
said, “I wasn’t much of a socialite in high school. Megan did all of that our junior
and senior year and I lived vicariously through her.”

“It’s hard for me to imaging that you didn’t have a
hundred offers to go to the prom. Were you an emo girl, against all of the
establishment and the gender and societal norms?” I was kidding, sort of. I
really couldn’t wrap my head around this beautiful girl not being the most
sought after, popular girl in school.

“No,” she said with a smile. She got that it was
mostly a joke. I liked that about her too. She had a great sense of humor. “I
was too cool,” she said. Then she grinned. I thought she was kidding, but I
wasn’t sure.

She finished her bagel and we carried our dishes back
inside. She washed her plate and her cup and sat them in the drainer. I needed
a roommate like her. Jake lets them ferment until one of us gets home from
school or whatever and can’t stand the smell any longer.

“I should head home,” she said. “I could really use a
shower and my toothbrush.”

“Okay. Let me get my boots on, I’ll take you.”

“I don’t mind taking the bus.”

“I don’t mind taking you. I’ll be right back.” When I
got back, she had folded the blanket we left on the couch, and straightened up
the living room. It was funny how much we were alike sometimes. “You ready?” I
asked her.

We rode back to her dorms on Susie, so conversation
was pointless. I don’t know about her, but I was enjoying her arms around me again,
even if she only did it to keep from falling off the bike. I thought about my
failed kiss attempt. Then I thought about the night we danced in the rain. I
think she would have kissed me that night. I was beginning to figure out that
Molly’s a thinker, and if she lets herself, she can think of a reason to talk
herself out of anything. I think some guy must have hurt her in the past. She
tries to put up this wall around her heart. She likes me though; I can see it
in her eyes and her smile. I feel it…in my heart. I’m not ready to give up on
this being more than just friends. I wasn’t going to pressure her at all, but I
was still hoping if we hung out enough, she might start to feel it too.

CHAPTER
ELEVEN

MOLLY

I had just gotten out of the shower when Megan got
home. “Phew!” I was really glad she hadn’t already been here; I would have
never heard the end of it, having spent the night with Brock, no matter how
innocent it had been.

As I dried my hair I thought about how good it had
felt to wake up in his arms, with my head on his strong chest and his arm
around me. If I hadn’t been so shocked to wake up there, I may have pretended
to be asleep a little longer, just because it felt so right. He was already
awake when I opened my eyes and I had to wonder how long he had lain still like
that, just holding me and letting me sleep. Everything he did was so…caring and
sweet. I wondered how a guy that good-looking wasn’t spoiled and arrogant. They
were few and far between that’s for sure. I thought about the failed kiss and
wondered when….or if I was ever ready if he would want to try it again. Megan’s
knocking on the door interrupted my thoughts. I turned off the blow dryer and
said, “Come on in Meg.”

“Hey Molly, how was your night?” Megan said as she
came in the door.

“It was fun. We just watched a movie. How was yours?”

“The car show was good, but Tim’s mom’s house
was…questionable. I had serious concerns about her housekeeping methods.” Megan
was kind of a clean-freak which wasn’t a bad thing, but I worry that she might
have to kill Jake when they finally decide to get married or live together.
From what Brock told me, he is kind of a slob.

“I have to pee,” Megan said.

I shook my head. I don’t know if it’s a psychological
thing or what, but every time I go into the bathroom, Megan has to pee. I was
okay with it now, though it was really hot in the bathroom. I got this sudden,
overwhelming need for air. I went out into the room and opened the one and only
window we have. It’s not that big, but I hung my head out of it like a dog out
of a car window. As soon as the fresh air hit my lungs I became nauseated and
my head started feeling a little foggy. As I stood there, clutching on to the
windowsill, the room started to spin. Maybe it was the bagel….

I turned around and tried to make it to my bed about
the time that Megan came out of the bathroom. One look at me sent her running
to my side. She grabbed my arm and helped me get to the bed and then she said, “Molly
you’re as white as a sheet.”

“I’m a little light-headed,” I told her. “I just need
to lie down.”

Megan helped me lay back on the bed. The room was
spinning now and my ears were ringing. I suddenly felt like I needed to puke
and I tried to get up but I was too off-balance to stand.

Megan grabbed her purse and said, “We’re going to the
hospital.”

“No,” I protested. “I’m okay.” To prove I was a liar
no doubt, I stumbled into the desk between our beds.

“Molly, you’re going with me or I’m calling an
ambulance. Wait right there I’m going to get Debbie.”

Debbie was our “house-mother” at the dorms. She knew
about my illness, she had to…just in case, my grandma had said. I tried to
protest again, but when I opened my mouth I realized that any motion at all was
going to make me puke. I sat down in the desk chair and leaned forward with my
head close to the metal trash can…just in case, and waited for them to get
back.

Megan and Debbie were back in five minutes. Debbie was
a good choice for house-mother. She was a senior and very smart, and not prone
to panic at all. She took charge right away, taking me under one arm and
telling Megan to get under the other.

“Do you have her purse with her I.D. and all that?”
Debbie asked
Meggs
. Megan grabbed it and, acting as
if they were leading a rag doll, we were on our way. I tried to tell them that
I would be okay, and that I didn’t want to go to the hospital, but they acted
like they couldn’t hear me. For a few seconds I thought maybe I was only saying
it in my head. When we got downstairs, Debbie told Megan to go get the car and
pull it up to the curb. When she had gone, Debbie looked at me and said, “Should
I call Grandma?” I thought about being sarcastic and telling her I didn’t care
if she called her grandma, but she was being nice and there was no reason for
me to be a bitch just because I felt like throwing up and passing out.

“I’m really fine, Debbie. I don’t think we need to
worry her.”

Debbie didn’t say anything, but she didn’t look
convinced either. When Megan pulled the car up out front, Debbie tucked me into
the passenger seat and told her, “Take her to the ambulance bay side. There
will be wheelchairs there. If they keep her, even for a few hours, call her
grandmother.”