Page 88 of Bump and Run

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I wakeup the next morning still in his arms, locked in a cocoon of warmth and comfort.

Junior stirs as I do. His eyes flick with confusion but it quickly dissipates as he realizes where he is.

He gazes down at me and smiles. “Hey...”

“Hey.”

A knock strikes the door.

“Hey, Eliza!”

Junior bolts up on the bed.

“Closet, closet, closet—”I shove him towards it and he almost falls to the floor. He rights himself and manages to hide away just a second before my doors opens.

Dad walks in, wearing the same clothes he wore last night. My nose twitches, able to sense the mix of cheap booze and dollar store perfume on his collar from across the room.

“Hey—” he greets, smiling. “Missed you at the game last night.”

I nod, focusing all my self-control on not drawing attention to the closet. “Yeah, sorry. I wasn’t feeling well and—”

“We won.”

“Yeah, I could hear the screaming on campus from all the way out here. Congrat—”

“Try and make the next one, all right?” he interrupts. “It looks good for you to show your support.”

I force a smile. “Of course. I’ll try. Sorry, I missed—”

He leaves before I even finish the sentence.

I stand up and walk silently to the closet. Junior has concealed himself behind a line of my blouses but he’s completely visible from the waist down.

“He’s gone.”

Junior steps out, keeping as light on his feet as possible, and breathes a thick sigh of relief. “You feeling better?” he whispers to me.

I nod, realizing that the overwhelming ick I felt all day yesterday has disappeared. “Yeah.”

“Good.” His eyes trace a halo around my head and he grins.

I quickly reach up to adjust the nest in my hair, feeling a rush of blood to my face. “Ugh, I probably look awful.”

“You look beautiful.”

My heart flutters. I drop my hands, suddenly not caring about the possibility of severe bed head.

“I should get going. I need to meet with my sister.”

My eyes bounce to the clock. It’s just after ten on Sunday. I can barely remember the last time I slept this well or woke up so refreshed.

I open my door and stick my head out, focusing my hearing to pinpoint my dad’s location in the house.

There’s a brief shuffling of feet on the second floor somewhere beneath me. I signal for Junior to stay back as I descend the stairs, inching closer to the master bedroom below.

My dad’s shower turns on and I breathe easier.

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