Page 43 of Overachiever
“No worries there. Stuck with Dad, poor Owen. If I’d stayed we’d have got up to some shit,” Marty claims.
“It took you two days to end up in a cast,” Zara points out, rolling her eyes.
“Because I know how to party.”
“Whatever, I’m driving.” Zara hops into the driver’s seat while Serena claims the passenger one. Since we have a cooler of drinks on the middle seat beside Marty’s propped leg, that leaves me in the back seat with him.
The traffic is light once we get on the highway. It’s a beautiful day, full of sunshine, and I think of what Owen is doing now. Up on the roof, working in the heat. Right now I should be painting instead of staring out this window.
I’m surprised to feel Marty put his arm around me when I wipe my eyes. I’m exhausted after getting almost no sleep all night and it doesn’t take long for me to start dozing off. “Lie down,” Marty offers, shifting a pillow onto his lap, and I notice how glazed his eyes are.
“You’re high.”
“As an eagle’s taint. Those pills are awesome.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Not right now.”
He rests his hand on my shoulder when I lie down, leans his head against his headrest and closes his eyes. The hum of the highway beneath the tires lulls me to sleep and when I wake, I’m stiff from the time spent curled up in the seat.
“About time,” Serena calls back. “You two have been out for four hours. Pass me a bottle of water.”
Marty pops another pill while I sit up and stretch. “Pull off at the next rest stop. I have to piss.”
My bladder is screaming at me too, and it feels good to stretch my legs when I climb out a few minutes later. It takes me and Zara to get Marty out of the car. He’s not getting any better on those crutches, but he gets around better using one crutch, and leaning against someone on his other side. When we get to the squat brick building, Marty pauses. “I can’t go in the ladies room.”
“If we let you go alone, you’ll end up breaking something else, and none of us are going to wipe your ass if it ends up being your arms,” Serena retorts.
“So go into the men’s with me.” We can hear voices coming from the ladies room, but not the men’s. No one has come or gone from it since we arrived. It probably is the better choice.
“I’ll go,” I volunteer. As long as I get to pee, I don’t care.
Marty leans on me. “You were always my favorite. Now, don’t be scared when I have to whip it out. It won’t hurt you.”
Serena laughs, walking toward the ladies room with Zara. “We’ve all seen it. There’s nothing to fear.”
“I’m a grower not a shower!” he yells as two women exit the ladies room and break into giggles.
“Ugh, are men’s rooms always this gross?” I ask while Marty hobbles across the damp, paper towel strewn floor toward a urinal.
“Ha! This is cleaner than some. Okay, unzip me.”
“Your hands work, asshole.”
“Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
Marty’s teasing is actually a good distraction right now. I turn my head where I can’t see him pee, but I’m close enough to help if he loses his balance. The sound of it makes my urge to go much stronger. When he’s finally done, I help him to the sink where he can support himself, then duck into a stall.
It’s a good thing I’ve been doing my yoga workouts and my legs are strong because this is a textbook ass hover situation. At least there’s toilet paper. It’s one of those toilets with a sensor that makes it flush automatically and it sounds like a jet taking off. The roar is followed by a gurgling sound.
Oh no.
Foul water starts spilling over the rim in a contaminated waterfall, and I leap back when it gets close to my feet. In a panic, I dash out the stall. A burly man standing at a urinal turns around and holy wow are those his balls? They’re huge! Why are his testicles out?
“Balls!” I shout, staring right at the hairy monsters. My whole body lights on fire, and I correct myself, “Flood! The toilet…water…everywhere.” My brain really isn’t cooperating.
The sensor must be screwing up because the toilet just keeps flushing, shoving out more and more water. The man ignores me and the situation, but Marty’s laughter bounces off the walls. Right, Marty is still waiting at the sink. I rush over, and he leans on me.
