Blue Page 2

  “Since the diagnosis…um…three years ago.” My stomach sinks, and this time it’s because of my grim future instead of the roller coaster ride from the flight. “Geez, it feels like it’s been forever.”

  “What, the flight or your sickness?” Kristy asks, popping into our conversation.

  “The sickness. It seems like I’ve been dealing with this shit all my life.”

  And cue the long faces and droopy eyes from my two best friends. They always respond this way when they don’t know what to say or how to comfort me. They’ve tried to be optimistic in the past, but I stop them before they can offer me empty promises.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make things awkward,” I say, digging through my purse for my lip balm with my free hand.

  “Did you bring extra just in case?” Kristy asks, pointing at the inhaler in my purse.

  Blowing a short breath, I zip up my purse and set it back down under the seat in front of me on the blanket the airline provides. An average girl like me can’t afford expensive bags, but Tiffanny and Kristy both went in together and bought me one for my twenty-first birthday. So I’m going to make sure I make it last. It might be a year old, but I’ve taken excellent care of it, and I’d like to keep it looking brand new.

  “Yeah, and I was so worried they would give me shit when we went through security but thankfully it didn’t throw up any red flags. Unlike the time that stupid sweater I wore when I flew to Chicago somehow managed to set off all the alerts. How the hell does a plain cotton sweater wreak havoc?”

  The overly cheerful flight attendant stops beside our row to collect our trash. “That’s good. So, I’m glad your parents came through. You never said when I asked you earlier,” Kristy says as she hands her clear plastic cup to the happy-go-lucky lady.

  “You mean money?”

  She nods.

  I shake my head as I answer another sore subject. “No. All I have is the money I worked my ass off to get. Putting in extra hours and weekends has taken its toll. This vacation couldn’t come at a better time.”

  “Damn, that sucks,” Tiffanny adds.

  “I couldn’t expect them to fund this little trip. I know they spend every penny they make trying to take care of my medical expenses. It would have killed me to ask them because I knew they wouldn’t have it. I know how much it hurts them when they can’t give me what I want.”

  Just when I release Tiffanny’s hand, the plane drops again. “Oh shit!” I shout, grabbing Kristy’s hand this time. I slap my free hand over my mouth to stop any more profanity from spewing off my tongue. I’m sure the mother in front of us with two small kids doesn’t want those types of words blurted out in the vicinity of toddler ear magnets. Those little boogers love repeating cuss words.

  Kristy slides her hand out from mine and flexes it. “We’re descending now. Nothing to freak out over. I think your Dramamine wore off too soon,” she says, giggling. She continues flexing her fingers. “I hope the feeling comes back in the next twenty-four hours.”

  Tiffanny and I laugh. “Sorry,” I say, really meaning it. “Believe me, I wanted it to last until we landed, too.”

  “Well, don’t worry about the money. We,” Tiffanny says, pointing to herself and Kristy, “already have the hotel covered, so all you have to worry about is anything else like food and booze.”

  Kristy nods in agreement. “And if worse comes to worse and you don’t have enough, you know we’ll give you whatever you need,” Kristy adds.

  “Loan and only if I need it,” I say, correcting her. “You’re not giving me anything. I’ll pay you back if it comes to that point.”

  They both roll their eyes.

  Looping my arms through theirs, I pull them to me the best I can without the armrest getting in the way. “You guys are the best friends I could ever ask for. I seriously don’t know what I would do without the two of you. You two have no idea how excited I am to finally have a vacation, and it’s all because of you that I’m finally getting one.”

  I continue hanging on to them as we fall closer and closer to land. “Phoebe, you more than deserve to have some time to let loose and have fun. I’m just happy we’re able to spend this week with you,” Tiffanny says.

  “So what’s the one thing each of you wants to do before the week is over?” Kristy asks. “Mine is—I want to have my first anal experience.”

  While I’m used to all things Kristy and her unfiltered mouth, Tiffanny gasps. “What? You mean you’ve never? The queen of sex has never had back door action?” She looks at me in disbelief, and I laugh.

  Kristy shakes her head. “No. I chicken out every time. I think it’s a mental thing because I always know the guy. If I get a piece of strange then the nameless sex will be easier for me.”

  “I’m in shock from your revelation, Kristy. I don’t know if I can answer.”

  She bumps her shoulder into mine. “Oh, stop and just answer.”

  “Tiffanny, you go next. I still need to think about mine.”

  Tiffanny hums while she looks off into space. “Does it have to be sexual or can it be something random?”

  “Sexual,” Kristy answers.

  “I want to kiss a guy, or maybe more, with a hot foreign accent.”

  We both nod in approval. “Ooo good idea. I wish I’d thought of that,” Kristy replies.

  “Okay, now you,” Kristy says, turning her attention to me.

  After thinking it over, there’s only one option I could come up with. “Well, mine is nowhere near as exciting as yours.” I pause, and Kristy and Tiffanny gawk at me in anticipation. “Since it’s been so long since I’ve had any guy in my life, I’m shooting for getting laid.”

  Kristy’s eyebrows furrow. “Um, exactly how long has it been since you’ve had sex?”

  “I’m too embarrassed to tell, so let’s leave it at that.” I smile.

  Tiffanny starts talking, but I don’t hear a word she says. Looking out the window was a mistake on my part because now I’m able to see people in their cars while they’re driving.

  Tugging on my seat belt one more time just to be sure, I push myself back in my seat, hoping it will swallow me until we land. I remain in this position with my eyes still closed until I feel the slight bounce of tires on the ground. A huge gush of air releases from my lungs, but I still don’t open my eyes. I’m scared there’s the possibility another plane will come in to land and hit our plane in the process. It’s been known to happen.

  “You okay?” they ask in unison.

  Nodding, I fight to catch my breath. Kristy notices my struggle and digs my inhaler out of my purse for me. “Here,” she says, handing it to me.

  Taking a quick puff, I wait until my lungs work with me instead of against me before I thank her.

  Because of my freak out moment right before we landed, I never gave myself a once-over before standing to depart the plane. After taking the Dramamine while I was still at the house, I quickly fell asleep as soon as we got settled in our seats. Luckily, I was out before take-off. Too bad the bouncing around from the storm woke me up. I’m a pretty wild sleeper, so I can only imagine what my hair looks like now. “How do I look?” I ask Tiffanny.

  “Pretty as always,” she says, smiling then busies herself by trying to cut her way into the line of people already crowding beside us.

  Not fully trusting her, I rake my fingers through my blond streaked hair in hopes of removing any rat’s nests I built while napping. I slide my aviators on and pull chunky strands of hair down in front of my face just in case.

  Finally, the line starts moving and we’re able to grab our bags from the overhead compartment. As we walk out of the jet bridge I spot the big sign reading Cinnabon. “We are stopping there before we walk down to the baggage claim. I didn’t get my sweet fix before boarding, and you girls know I need a mouthful of warm, gooey, creamy—”

  “Cum!” Kristy blurts out.

  Since we are no longer within earshot of the mom and kids who sat in front of us on t
he flight, Tiffanny and I both bust out laughing.

  “What?” Kristy asks innocently, though we all know she’s far from innocent. Her lack of a filter is what we love most about her. When a thought crosses her mind, it bypasses all sense of reasoning and shoots right out of her mouth.

  “Did you actually think she was talking about icing, Tiffanny?”

  Tiffanny shakes her head. “Nope. Not at all.” She leans over toward me so she’s not so loud that the people around us can hear. “I don’t know what sweet cum she’s tasted, but I’d sure like to try it.”

  I’m standing in line at this point. “I know, right?”

  “Next,” I hear the guy at the register say. Looking up, I see the prettiest set of brown eyes with thick, dark lashes fanning around them. He has the face of a baby but something tells me he’s older than he looks.

  “Oh,” I say in surprise. I don’t know what I’m expecting, but it sure as hell isn’t a fine-ass piece of meat. “Um, hi,” I say with a smile.

  He returns my smile with one of his own that reaches his eyes. Good. I like him. He’s genuine. I proceed to place my order and ask the girls if they want anything. They both decline.

  As he takes my money, he initiates small talk. “So, where are you ladies from?”

  Before I can answer, because even though he addressed all three of us he looked directly at me, Kristy and Tiffanny both say Pennsylvania. He hands me my change back and slides the container holding my prized possession toward me.

  “Nice. I hope you ladies have a great time while here. Maybe I’ll run into you some time during your stay,” he says then winks at me.

  Kristy squeezes her way in between me and the clear display cabinet. “I hope so too. We’re staying at—”

  I jerk her by her arm and away from the guy still standing at the counter chuckling to himself.

  “What the hell is the matter with you?” I ask, still tugging on her arm. “Don’t be going around telling people what hotel we’re staying at.”

  She jerks loose from my grip. “He’s hot. I might want to hook up with him later. He could be the one to…you know,” she says, speaking out of the side of her mouth.

  Tiffanny sidles up between us. “I doubt you’ll see that guy anywhere on the beach. There’s going to be so many people there you’ll forget all about him.”

  All three of us walk toward the baggage claim, cracking our usual jokes at each other along the way. My mouth waters and my tummy growls while the delicious scent of cinnamon swirls beneath my nose.

  When we get to the bottom of the escalator, the place is packed like sardines. People are rushing around all over the place like they’re in some kind of race. By the time we make it to our location, my back and shoulders are aching from lugging my purse and tote bag around. I probably packed more than I need, but you can never be sure what item of clothing you will unexpectedly want to wear.

  I have my wallet in one hand and my Cinnabon in the other. When Kristy pulled her little stunt with the guy at the register, I never got the chance to put my wallet away. While I go to shove it in my bag, it slides off my shoulder and falls to the floor. I nearly freak because it’s my one and only Michael Kors bag.

  Right as I’m scrambling to save my purse from the filthy floor, my wallet disappears from thin air. “My wallet!” I scream. Never thinking twice, I take off running after the guy who I think snatched my wallet. He has a black or maybe dark blue ball cap on, and a dark-colored T-shirt. Oh hell, who knows? He’s weaving through the crowd of people faster than I can keep up. I can’t tell which exit he went out of, or if he even left at all. My chest heaves heavily from chasing him, and it causes me to stop and cough a lung up. I step out one of the exit doors and scan all around where cars are dropping their loved ones off. Nothing. There’s too much traffic for me to ever find him here, and I’ve already lost too much precious time. My lungs burn from exertion, and I struggle to catch my breath.

  I’m mad. Actually, I’m pissed. My fists ball up tight, and I literally want to scream, but I lack the air to do it. I walk back to where Tiffanny and Kristy are standing and they already have my luggage waiting by theirs. Feeling as if I’m about to pass out, I grab my inhaler out of my purse and take a few quick puffs.

  “Are you going to be okay?” Kristy asks, truly concerned.

  “Yeah, I’m okay. Well, no, I’m screwed. Happy fucking spring break to me.” I’m seething. My insides shake from the rage boiling within.

  Tiffanny and Kristy both seem confused.

  “What happened? One minute you were here then the next you disappeared yelling something about your wallet,” Tiffanny says.

  Feeling flustered and defeated, I kick at my luggage like a petulant child. “My wallet’s gone. Some loser snatched it right out of my hand before I even knew what was going on.” Tears sting my eyes, and I blink them back. They’re tears of anger. “All my damn money was in there…including my debit card and license. Mother. Fucker!” I mouth without any sound.

  A finger lightly pokes me on my back, and I turn around, hoping it’s a cop telling me he caught the thief. Instead, it’s a middle-aged man standing with what I assume to be his wife and teenage kids. “Excuse me, I think this might belong to you,” he says, handing me my wallet. He starts talking, but I don’t really hear him as I quickly open it up and find everything there except my five hundred dollars in cash. My heart drops. That was my spending money for the week, and I only have forty bucks left in the bank.

  Half-heartedly, I give him my best fake smile and thank him. I wish I had something to offer him, but I don’t. The wrinkles around his mouth fall when he notices the sullen look on my face. He nods to me as if to say ‘no problem’ then turns to his family and cheerfully tells them it’s time to go. Well, on the plus side, at least I don’t have to call the bank and cancel my card.

  I set my attention on my two best friends. It’s time to deliver the bad news. “Well…everything is in my wallet except my money. Looks like I’ll be spending every day on the beach and every night in our hotel room.”

  BLUE

  Damn, this sucks.

  The last time I pulled this shit I swore to myself I’d never do it again. I also promised Molly it’d never happen again. But here I am living the life of a liar and thief.

  Despite my good intentions, my conscience is tugging me in the opposite direction of douchebaggery until I spot a blonde from behind. Carelessly waving a wallet that probably cost as much if not more than Marcus’ summer camp, she becomes my target. Animatedly, she waves my prize around as she faces two other girls dressed in designer brands that cost as much as some small villages.

  I watch carefully for the right moment to strike. When I see the purse fall, I know it’s time.

  My heart accelerates as I execute my next move. Timing is everything and it only takes mere seconds to accomplish my goal.

  With the deed done, I toss the wallet and run. I don’t want to waste any more time or take a chance at being caught. Once I make it back outside, I veer off down Lisenby Avenue to meet up with my buddy Marcus. When I approach the building, I can see him in the back shooting basketball with some of the younger kids.

  As I enter the block building, a mask of cool air rushes over me, bringing me instant relief from the scorching sun. I walk into the front office and I’m greeted with a friendly smile. “Hi, Lance, are you here to see Marcus today? I think he’s been expecting you,” Linda says, resting her reading glasses on top of her head. She’s one of the original owners who started up the home, and I’m indefinitely indebted to her. She saved me when my world took a downward spiral. This place became my home for a short period of time until I was able to get back on my feet. And I’ve done my best to pay it forward ever since.

  “Yeah, I saw him on the basketball court when I came in. He didn’t see me, though.” I slide an envelope across the desk to her. Her eyes light up before she slips it into the side drawer of her desk. And the two hundred needed for Marcus sit
s fat in my wallet.

  “Thank you so much. I know I’ve told you this many times before, but you have no idea how much we all appreciate you around here. Not just your donation, but your time spent with the kids, too.” It’s moments like this that confirm that I did the right thing.

  “It’s really no big deal, Linda. If I can give back and make a difference in just one of their lives, then that’s all the gratification I need,” I say with one hand resting on the door handle. I’m anxious to get outside and challenge Marcus to a game of one-on-one. She nods, understanding exactly what I’m saying. “Well, I’ll catch you later, Linda. I don’t have a lot of time before I have to start work.”

  “Thanks again, Lance,” she says cheerfully as I walk out the door and down the hall.

  I reach the back doors and pause for a moment to watch the kids before I step back out into the humid air. Every time I come to visit, I’m stricken with a deep ache in my heart. The pain doesn’t show on the surface of these kids, but I know it lives inside of them. Some have parents who don’t want them, something I know all too well, or abuse them, because they don’t want them. Then there are some who choose their drugs over their kids. Any way you look at it, it sucks. And if they don’t have a positive influence in their life, then they’ll likely end up following in their parents’ footsteps. That’s why I volunteer my time here.

  I push the latch on the door and walk out into the bright sun. Cheers of my name are yelled from all different directions. The smaller kids run up to me, latching onto my legs, while the older ones give me fist bumps or signature handshakes. This. This makes what I do worth it.

  After I give everyone the attention they seek, I find Marcus still on the court shooting baskets. He’s either pissed about something or he thinks he’s too cool to come say hi. I’m guessing it’s the latter.

  Right as he goes for a shot, I run up behind him and swat the ball away. “Burn, baby,” I say, laughing. I quickly grab the ball before it bounces into the playground.

  When I turn around, Marcus is standing with his feet apart and arms crossed over his chest. He looks at least five years older than a fourteen-year-old should. He’s almost as tall as my six one frame and probably has more facial hair than I do.