Walking Disaster

I wet a washrag from the hall closet, and then sat back down beside her, holding it against her forehead. She leaned against the tub and groaned.
    I gently wiped her face with the wet rag, and then tried to sit still when she lay her head on my shoulder.
    “You gonna make it?” I asked.
    She frowned, and then gagged, keeping her lips together just long enough to position her head over the toilet. She heaved again, and more liquid splashed into it.
    Abby was so small, and the amount she was expelling didn’t seem normal. Worry crept into my mind.
    I scrambled from the bathroom and returned with two towels, an extra sheet, three blankets, and four pillows in my arms. Abby moaned over the toilet bowl, her body trembling. I fashioned the
linens against the tub in a pallet and waited, knowing we would more than likely end up spending the night in that little corner of the bathroom.
    Shepley stood in the doorway. “Should I . . . call someone?”
    “Not yet. I’m going to keep an eye on her.”
    “I’m fine,” Abby said. “This is me not getting alcohol poisoning.”
    Shepley frowned. “No, this is
stupid
. That’s what this is.”
    “Hey, you got the uh . . . her uh . . .”
    “Present?” he said with one eyebrow up.
    “Yeah.”
    “I got it,” he said, clearly unhappy.
    “Thanks, man.”
    Abby fell back against the tub once more, and I promptly wiped her face. Shepley wet a fresh rag and tossed it to me.
    “Thanks.”
    “Yell if you need me,” Shepley said. “I’m going to lie awake in bed, trying to think of a way to get Mare to forgive me.”
    I relaxed against the tub as best I could, and pulled Abby against me. She sighed, letting her body melt into mine. Even with her covered in vomit, close to her was the only place I wanted to
be. Her words at the party replayed in my mind.
    In another life, I could love you.
    Abby was lying weak and sick in my arms, depending on me to take care of her. In that moment I recognized that my feelings for her were a lot stronger than I thought. Sometime between the moment
we met, and holding her on that bathroom floor, I had fallen in love with her.
    Abby sighed, and then rested her head in my lap. I made sure she was completely covered with blankets before I let myself nod off.
    “Trav?” she whispered.
    “Yeah?”
    She didn’t answer. Her breathing evened out, and her head fell heavily against my legs. The cold porcelain against my back and the unforgiving tile under my ass were brutal, but I
didn’t dare move. She was comfortable, and she would stay that way. Twenty minutes into watching her breathe, the parts of me that hurt started to numb, and my eyes closed.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Oz
    A LREADY, THE DAY HADN ’ T STARTED OFF WELL. ABBY was somewhere with America, trying to talk her
out of dumping Shepley, and Shepley was chewing off his fingernails in the living room, waiting for Abby to work a miracle.
    I’d taken the puppy out once, paranoid that America would pull up at any moment and ruin the surprise. Even though I’d fed him and given him a towel to snuggle up with, he was
whining.
    Sympathy wasn’t my strong point, but no one could blame him. Sitting in a tiny box wasn’t anyone’s idea of a good time. Thankfully, seconds before they returned, the little
mongrel had quieted down and gone to sleep.
    “They’re back!” Shepley said, jumping off the couch.
    “Okay,” I said, quietly shutting Shepley’s door behind me. “Play it coo—”
    Before my sentence was complete, Shepley had opened the door and run down the stairs. The doorway was a great spot to watch Abby smile at Shepley and America’s eager reconciliation. Abby
shoved her hands into her back pockets and walked to the apartment.
    The fall clouds cast a gray shadow over everything, but Abby’s smile was like summertime. With each step she took that brought her closer to where I stood, my heart pounded harder against
my chest.
    “And they lived happily ever after,” I said, closing the door behind her.
    We sat together on the couch, and I pulled her legs onto my lap.
    “What do you wanna do today, Pidge?”
    “Sleep. Or rest . . . or sleep.”
    “Can I give you your present, first?”
    She pushed my shoulder. “Shut up. You got me a present?”
    “It’s not a diamond bracelet, but I thought you’d like it.”
    “I’ll love it, sight unseen.”
    I lifted her legs off of my lap and went to retrieve her gift. I tried not to shake the box, hoping the puppy