Page 96 of Fire
HENDRIX
It’s barely six in the morning, but I’m wide awake. The sun is slowly rising over the horizon, and as the light spills through the curtains, I lie in bed and watch the slow, steady rhythm of her breathing.
Boyfriend.
I’ve never wanted to be anyone’s boyfriend.
But Zara is different. She always has been.
Ever since I walked into Green Library and saw her sitting at a table, looking like a damn knockout in her oversized sweater and pile of books, I knew she was going to ruin me.
I just assumed it would be in the name of science.
I had no idea that I’d be ruined for her, that she’d bind herself to me so completely that no other woman would compare.
And now that I have her back, I don’t want to be just her boyfriend.
I just want to be hers.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand, and I quickly reach for it, not wanting it to wake her. I smile when I see a text from my mom checking on Zara.
Mom
How’s she doing?
I gently touch her forehead with the back of my hand. She can complain all she wants, but like I told her, this method always seems to work for my mom. And besides, her fancy thermometer is noisy. This way, I can at least ensure she won’t wake up.
Me
Better, I think. Doesn’t feel feverish anymore. And she was able to eat a little late last night.
Mom
That’s good. Probably just one of those twenty-four-hour bugs. Has anyone else been sick?
Me
Not that I know of. She obviously can’t talk about specific patients, but she would give us all a heads-up if something was going around.
Mom
Just making sure what’s “going around” isn’t the nine-month variety.
My eyes widen, nearly falling out of my head as I experience a momentary heart attack.
A baby? Is she trying to kill me?
Zara definitely had the flu yesterday, and I’m not sure we’ve been having sex long enough to create another human.
The usual shudder that follows that particular thought isn’t as terrifying as it typically is though, and I take a moment toconsider that. I try to picture Zara coming out of the bathroom yesterday, holding a pregnancy test.
Oh, the idea of it is still terrifying as fuck. But maybe it’s also a little exciting?
Huh, weird.
I grab my phone and reluctantly leave the warmth of the bed for the chaise out in the living room area. Clearly, this conversation with my mom isn’t wrapping up anytime soon, and I do not want to be the reason Zara wakes up.
Watching her nearly collapse yesterday was scary as hell. Hearing her cry in the bathroom as she retched into the toilet felt devastating, because there was nothing I could do except hold her hair back and watch her suffer.
