Page 104 of Finding Delaware

There’s a string of muted curses and some shuffling before the door swings open. I launch toward the door, the hallway starting to close in, but I come to an almost violent halt when I see who’s standing in the doorway. The chaos in me stills.

“T-Taylor,” I stammer, my eyes meeting the surprise in his before they harden into a glare.

“What doyouwant?” Taylor snaps coldly, looking for all the world like he’s just seen a roach, and I shrink back from the vitriol in his expression.

Licking my lips nervously, I raise my palms. “I just...can we chat?”

Chat? Seriously, Huckslee?

“I’m sorry,” I rush out before I can stop myself, the liquor loosening my lips. “I’m sorry for all of it, Taylor. I’ve been treating you like fucking shit when all you were trying to do was make me see, and I get it now. It all makes sense, and I’m so fucking sorry ittook me so long.”

His eyes widen as his pouty lips part, but his expression quickly shutters again. “What the fuck are you talking about, Huck? Are you drunk?”

“No! I mean, a little, but not as much as I wish I was. I’m just–” Cutting myself off, I fall back against the wall, feeling out of breath, not quite knowing what I’m trying to say. “C-can we start over? Go somewhere and talk, please?”

Taylor studies me cautiously for a moment before opening his mouth to answer, but a giggle behind him interrupts whatever he’d been about to say. A very feminine, high-pitched giggle. He freezes, and I notice for the first time that his hat is gone, and his dark hair is messy as if someone’s fingers have been running through it. He looks flushed, lips a bit swollen, and as my gaze tracks down his body, I find his belt buckle undone. When my eyes meet his again, a spark of guilt swims in them.

Finally, glancing over his shoulder, I see Blondie near the sink, adjusting her shirt and grinning at me. Red lipstick smeared.

Coincidentally, lipstick that matches the red smear on Taylor’s green boxer briefs peeking out from his unbuttoned jeans.

Right over his crotch.

Huckslee

Fuck, this hurts.

The floor pitches again, concrete walls like a vice, and I turn away before I embarrass myself further by puking all over his Docs.

“Sorry to interrupt,” I mutter, dashing up the hallway toward a door that reads ‘Employees Only.’ Taylor calls after me, but I will make a mess in this hallway if I don’t get out now.

The door opens to some sort of back alley between buildings, and I barely have time to catch Matthew leap away from Xed before bending over and throwing up all over the ground. Everything I’ve had to eat and drink tonight comes back up, barely missing my shoes. It burns so bad my eyes well up, stomach muscles working painfully against the force of it.

There’s a low curse and a hushed conversation behind me before the door slams shut. And then there’s a tentative hand on my back.

“Damn, man.” Matt stands above me, brows wrinkled in concern. “Looks like someone took ‘order whatever you want’ too far. You okay?”

I don’t respond because I physically can’t; all effort is focused on not getting the contents of my insides on anything important, like my clothes. When my body has finally expelled everything, I stay bent over for a few minutes, eyes squeezed shut as I just try to fucking breathe.

The hand on my back sweeps around in wide, soothing circles, and it feels nice. Grounding. So, I let Matthew do that for a bit longer than I should as I try to piece my thoughts together.

Eventually, when I don’t feel like passing out, I wipe my mouth on my sleeve and straighten, wincing as I clear my throat. “Thank you.”

“Of course, man.” Matt smiles crookedly as he backs up a step, giving me space. There’s something in his eyes, though, an anxiousness that has me doing a double take as I study him curiously. His mouth is tight despite the smile, his brows pulled in, and he looks like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Xed and I were just talking,” he explains quickly, biting his lip.

“Okay.”

His big eyes fly to mine, a hint of fear flashing. “It’s the truth. Just a heated conversation. I mean, not heated likethat, but we-we were just–”

“I get panic attacks,” I cut him off, not only because it’s painful watching him try to save face but also because it’s none of my business what I just saw the two of them doing.

He blinks, clearly not expecting me to say that. “Oh...”

“Yeah...” Curling my fingers into my hair, I tug on the strands as I glare at the ground. “Sometimes I can kind of feel when one is coming. Like a tingling in my fingers or muscle spasms. Hard to explain. Other times, though, they kind of hit out of nowhere.”

“Is that why you threw up?”

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