Nope.
Me: ???
Mr. Handsome: Me.
Fuck me …
I stare at my phone. Who am I kidding? I know it will only be a matter of time before we sleep together again. Maybe I just need to get him out of my system. There is nothing wrong with two consenting adults ...
Okay, on second thought, it’s not a good idea to get involved with him.
Mr. Handsome: I don’t hear you saying no. See you tomorrow, Aundrea. *wink*
Him and his damn winks! I fall back onto my bed, pulling my pillow over my face and letting out a muffled scream.
Chapter Seven
I’ve never understood why women spend so much time in the mornings putting on makeup, doing their hair, or picking out the right outfit, especially if it’s all for a guy, but here I am, standing in my closet for God knows how long looking for a shirt to wear. Since when did picking out clothes and accessories become so difficult?
Picking out a simple yellow shirt with elbow-length sleeves and a lace back, I go for my signature black leggings and plain stud earrings. Now, I know leggings are not hot or attractive, but they are so damn comfortable and that’s all I’m about these days. Comfort.
After double-checking that my hair is in place, I make my way downstairs.
“How did you sleep?” Jason asks, handing me a banana as I sit down at the table to join them.
“Great! I couldn’t have slept better.”
Jason gives a tiny nod before going back to reading the newspaper.
“I’m glad to hear you’re back to sleeping through the night,” Genna says, beaming.
I peel my banana and take a bite, noticing that my canker sores have already improved with the medication I’ve been taking.
I want to tell Genna the truth. How I couldn’t shake the burning sensations in my feet and toes. How all night, it felt as if a thousand needles were poking me nonstop. How no matter what I tried the tingles would not go away, and this morning it’s as if the sensations never happened. But I can’t tell her. Because if I tell her, she’ll make me report my symptoms to Dr. Olson who will want to discuss changing my medication or dosages. I can’t go through a change in my drugs. I’m not a lab rat, and I hate feeling like one.
Jason clears his throat. “I have some surgeries this afternoon, so I’ll drive you back here around 11:30 if that’s okay, Aundrea? Unless you,” he pauses, looking at Genna, “can pick her up?”
Before I let Genna answer, I speak up, “Why don’t I just drive myself? I’m feeling well enough to drive. I’m tired, yes, but I’m feeling better. The medication I got is working.”
They look back and forth at one another, and I can see the passing of silent words with their eyes. It pisses me off because they’re making me feel like a child who needs permission to do anything.
Standing up abruptly from the table, I shove my chair back with my leg. “My God, I have cancer! I’m not disabled!”
The day I learned I had cancer was the day my life changed. Not in the sense of facing death and learning about all that I would have to go through with the cancer. I’m talking about when my parents no longer looked at me like they had the morning before we left the house to go to the doctor. Or the way my sister would compliment me for no reason. Or how my friends wouldn’t give me shit over something stupid I did. I became known as the girl who has cancer.
Leaving that doctor’s office not only changed me, but it changed the lives of those around me. My parents still look at me like I’m their little girl—their little miracle—but now they look at me as if I’m going to disappear right before their eyes. My sister’s compliments have turned into trying to make me feel better when I’m in a rut or when I’m feeling insecure over the way I look. With the exception of Jean, my friends no longer joke or pick on me, afraid they’ll say something that
Me: ???
Mr. Handsome: Me.
Fuck me …
I stare at my phone. Who am I kidding? I know it will only be a matter of time before we sleep together again. Maybe I just need to get him out of my system. There is nothing wrong with two consenting adults ...
Okay, on second thought, it’s not a good idea to get involved with him.
Mr. Handsome: I don’t hear you saying no. See you tomorrow, Aundrea. *wink*
Him and his damn winks! I fall back onto my bed, pulling my pillow over my face and letting out a muffled scream.
Chapter Seven
I’ve never understood why women spend so much time in the mornings putting on makeup, doing their hair, or picking out the right outfit, especially if it’s all for a guy, but here I am, standing in my closet for God knows how long looking for a shirt to wear. Since when did picking out clothes and accessories become so difficult?
Picking out a simple yellow shirt with elbow-length sleeves and a lace back, I go for my signature black leggings and plain stud earrings. Now, I know leggings are not hot or attractive, but they are so damn comfortable and that’s all I’m about these days. Comfort.
After double-checking that my hair is in place, I make my way downstairs.
“How did you sleep?” Jason asks, handing me a banana as I sit down at the table to join them.
“Great! I couldn’t have slept better.”
Jason gives a tiny nod before going back to reading the newspaper.
“I’m glad to hear you’re back to sleeping through the night,” Genna says, beaming.
I peel my banana and take a bite, noticing that my canker sores have already improved with the medication I’ve been taking.
I want to tell Genna the truth. How I couldn’t shake the burning sensations in my feet and toes. How all night, it felt as if a thousand needles were poking me nonstop. How no matter what I tried the tingles would not go away, and this morning it’s as if the sensations never happened. But I can’t tell her. Because if I tell her, she’ll make me report my symptoms to Dr. Olson who will want to discuss changing my medication or dosages. I can’t go through a change in my drugs. I’m not a lab rat, and I hate feeling like one.
Jason clears his throat. “I have some surgeries this afternoon, so I’ll drive you back here around 11:30 if that’s okay, Aundrea? Unless you,” he pauses, looking at Genna, “can pick her up?”
Before I let Genna answer, I speak up, “Why don’t I just drive myself? I’m feeling well enough to drive. I’m tired, yes, but I’m feeling better. The medication I got is working.”
They look back and forth at one another, and I can see the passing of silent words with their eyes. It pisses me off because they’re making me feel like a child who needs permission to do anything.
Standing up abruptly from the table, I shove my chair back with my leg. “My God, I have cancer! I’m not disabled!”
The day I learned I had cancer was the day my life changed. Not in the sense of facing death and learning about all that I would have to go through with the cancer. I’m talking about when my parents no longer looked at me like they had the morning before we left the house to go to the doctor. Or the way my sister would compliment me for no reason. Or how my friends wouldn’t give me shit over something stupid I did. I became known as the girl who has cancer.
Leaving that doctor’s office not only changed me, but it changed the lives of those around me. My parents still look at me like I’m their little girl—their little miracle—but now they look at me as if I’m going to disappear right before their eyes. My sister’s compliments have turned into trying to make me feel better when I’m in a rut or when I’m feeling insecure over the way I look. With the exception of Jean, my friends no longer joke or pick on me, afraid they’ll say something that
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