Page 85 of The Keeper
“Yeah.”
Mama Sita’s is a popular Southern California burrito chain with a spot about two miles from my house.
“Do you mind if we drive through and head back to the apartment though? There’s something important I want to talk to you about.”
When I get nothing but silence, I turn to look at Jeremy and catch his eyes locked on mine, his face showing an almost grave concern.
“Why can’t you just tell me now?”
“Because I want us to be at home. It’s important.”
“Yeah, I got that. Just tell me now.”
“Jeremy, stop. I’ll tell you in a bit.”
“Are you pregnant?”
“What!?”
“Are you?”
I can’t believe he would even… ugh!
I can feel the blood rushing to my face, demonstrating in a more than obvious way how angry his question makes me. My fists clench and I glare right back at him.
“When did you become this person who always jumps to conclusions about me? Can’t I have just normal sister-brother stuff to talk about? Does it always have to be that I’ve fucked up in some way?”
Jeremy sighs.
“Sorry. I’m just on edge today.”
I cross my arms and continue to throw daggers at him with my eyes.
“Well I don’t give a shit. I don’t knowwhathas happened to our mojo in the past few weeks, but I feel like I barely know you anymore. You hardly speak to me, and when you do, you’re either angry or making huge assumptions.”
“Rachel, I said…”
“And even more frustrating is that it feels like you don’t knowmeanymore, either. When did I become this person that you think so poorly of? Why can’t you believe in me? It’s like everything that comes out of your mouth is tailor-made to make me feel like shit.”
Jeremy sighs again, but we don’t speak, apart from ordering, until we pull into my apartment’s parking lot.
As he sets his food on the counter, I can see him moving his mouth, talking to himself. It makes my mouth tick up in a half smile. Jeremy’s always done that. It makes him look a little bit crazy, but none of the good ones are sane anyways.
“I’m sorry my faith in you isn’t what it used to be,” he finally says, pulling out my burrito and setting it on the counter in front of me.
“I just don’t understand why,” I reply. “We’ve always been so close. What happened?”
Jeremy turns and opens the fridge, pulling out a bottle of Coke. When he turns back around, his face is like granite.
“I just have some personal stuff going on. I’ll tell you one day, but not today.”
He plops the bottle onto the counter and grabs two glasses.
“Today, we talk about you. What’s going on?”
My stomach drops and I feel like I’m starting to lose my breath. My skin goes instantly clammy and warm at the same time. I know the signs of an anxiety attack looming in the distance, and luckily this isn’t it.
I take a deep breath, resolving myself to what’s about to happen as I try and blurt things out in chunks so I can get it all out.
