Page 16 of She's Got that Heat

I wave him off. There is nowaymy glitches are more important than a fire. “It’s totally fine. I can easily walk home from here.”

“No. Please.” He reaches into a kitchen drawer and pulls out a couple of keys attached to a silver acorn keychain. “Here. Front door is the green key if you decide you really want to get home, but feel free to stay. There’s fruit and cheese in the fridge, and I could cook when I get back in a few hours – or sooner, hopefully.”

He comes over to give me a kiss that sends that much different, welcome kind of heat surging through my veins. This connection with Damon makes me even more determined not to drive him away with my headache bullshit.

“It’s all good. Go.” I give his shoulder a push. “Thank you for the use of your lovely air-conditioned home. I’ll be fine.”

He still looks unsure but grabs his water bottle and takes off out the door. I walk to the front window, and he gives a quick wave before pulling out of the driveway and taking off at an urgent clip.

Staring out at his front lawn, I love the way the light flickers through the leaves of the trees?—

Wait.

No.

The flickering orange isn’t light filtering through the trees. It’s appearing just off-center in my left eye.

I go to my purse as calmly as possible and take out the blue and white bottle. It’s empty.

Crap.I was right there in the grocery store, where I’m pretty sure they would’ve had my usual painkillers.

I sit down and finish my glass of water, trying to breathe deeply and relax.

One of two things is about to happen. The migraine aura with its sassy disco rave centered in my one eye might possibly fade away in the next half hour. Then I’ll be left feeling a bit shaky and exhausted, but okay. Well, adequate.

Or.

(Please do not let it be the or…)

Orthe flashing will get brighter for about half an hour and then fade away, leaving me with full-on migraine pain, where every single thing in the world hurts unbearably. Light…sound…anywhere my clothing is touching my body…the fact that my heart is beating too strongly…

I can’t stand feeling this fragile. It’s sickening.

Grabbing my purse, I also grab a piece of mail by the front door that has Damon’s name and address on it. A few times I’ve had a migraine so bad that I was unable to speak, so at least this is something I could point to.

I carefully get my bearings, lock up the house, and walk toward the grocery store. If I get juice and painkillers into me within ten or fifteen minutes, it’ll take the edge off. Then I can come back to Damon’s house, curl up in the basement where it’s nice and cool, and sleep it off.

This is a very solid plan. I hope. I think.

No. Let’s leave it at hope… It hurts to think.

You’d think moving one foot in front of the other would be easy – I do it every day. Now it takes my entire concentration. I refuse to let myself slow down or stop. Time is not on my side.

Come on, girl. Pick up your feet.

I’ve just passed City Hall when the orange flashing triangles in my eye get the disgustingly familiar neon green edging that pulses in a different counter-rhythm.

Lifting my head, I squint, finally able to see the grocery store. Almost there. On a fairly empty stomach, the painkillers can start working within eighteen to twenty minutes.

I can do this.

As I’m walking as quickly as I can down the sidewalk, I try to take note of the beautiful trees on this street. Even through my half-shut eyes, this is such a beautiful town. How weird that I’m aware of how happy I am during this stupid brain malfunction.

My legs are too heavy. It’s becoming harder and harder to lift my feet properly, especially when the sidewalk begins to swing back and forth slightly. Is this a rope bridge? I don’t understand how it…

“Whoah, hold on there.”

A man gently slips an arm around me, holding me steady as I stagger. I can’t focus enough to look at him properly, but he’s wearing a uniform. He must be that police officer I’ve seen walking around town, usually eating a cookie or something.

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