Page 70 of Dating After the End of the World
“Blake?” I say, needing to know whether he’s okay. “Blake?”
Finally, he lifts his head from its resting spot and leans it back against the wall, rolling his head up and down like he’s giving himself a scalp massage. He pushes off the cinder block and stands, looking around the cell like he’s getting his bearings. When his gaze lands on me, his face twists up, not out of fear or shock, but out of curiosity.
“Blake?” I reach my hand through the bars, stretching it as far as I can, my fingers spread wide, trying to claw the air for just an extra inch. He takes my hand in his, shaking it up and down like we’re associates in a boardroom.
“Blake, are you all right?”
“Who are you?” he asks.
My heart plummets down into my stomach, splashing acid everywhere as a burn begins to radiate throughout my core. I let go of his hand and stumble back in shock.
“Where am I?” he asks, peering up at the ceiling and turning in circles, his steps choppy and frantic. I can sense that panic is about to setin. I’ve seen this with many dementia patients or people coming out of heavy narcotics, and despite how heartbroken I am, I need to be there for him, to keep him calm. His entire life just changed for the worse, and I’m gutted that it happened to coincide with me realizing that I actually care about him.
“What am I doing in here!?” He looks like a fish trying to frantically find its way out of an aquarium, swimming beneath the water of my tears.
“I’m so sorry, Blake,” I whisper as I wipe my tears away, not wanting to worry him any more than he probably is.
I walk to his cell, calling out his name until he settles down enough to focus on me and what I’m trying to tell him.
“I’m so, so sorry, Blake,” I say, unable to hold back my sadness any longer.
“Who’s Blake?” he asks.
I reach my hands out and he grabs them reflexively, holding me by the wrists like he isn’t sure what to do with these “things” that just entered his space. I glance down at my feet. My tears sit atop the concrete floor, unable to penetrate the uniform, smooth surface, no different from the effect they have on the husk of the man standing before me.
Blake lets go of my wrists and collapses to the floor. A burst of laughter erupts from his mouth and rocks through me, like a sound wave sent from a bullhorn. He rocks back and forth, grabbing his sides, chuckling even louder.
“You fucking dick!”
“You should have seen your face!” He points at me, howling in amusement.
I look around for something to throw at him. Spotting my breakfast plate, I grab the hash brown patty from it and tomahawk it through the bars, hitting him square in the face. Pieces fly around the cell and a grease spot now glistens on his slightly reddened skin, but it does little to stop his fit of joy.
“By the way, Pearson, I accept your apology.” He’s still beaming, tickled with joy at his prank.
I squeeze my eyes tight, shaking my head in tiny tremors. “I wasn’t apologizing to you for anything. I was apologizing for your situation.”
“That’s not how I took it.” He relaxes into a smug state of bliss, as if every word of this exchange is like a drop of honey hitting his tongue.
“Whatever.” I turn on my heel and head for the door, no longer feeling the need to watch over him ... at least for now.
“Where are you going?” he calls out, the coolness of his voice now replaced with a mix of genuine curiosity and concern that his plaything is leaving early.
“To inform everyone that you’re not a Nome but that you are, in fact, still an asshole.”
Chapter 28
Pushing the door open at the top of the stairs, I find everyone either seated or mulling around the kitchen and living room, waiting for news on Blake. All heads swivel in my direction at the sound of my arrival.
My dad immediately rises from his chair, taking a step toward me, his eyes full of worry. “How is he?”
“I’ve got some good news and some bad news,” I say, letting out a sigh. “Good news, he didn’t become a Nome. Bad news, he’s still a dick.”
A sense of relief washes over the room, with a few people stifling laughs.
“Casey!” Elaine chides, holding back a small smile.
Dad gives me a stern look, but it fades away just as quickly as it appeared.
