On the Plus Side Page 28


I lost count of the many stitches she received. I was too busy trying to stay in my seat. Part of me wanted to hold her hand and be there for her, but the tiny anti-Devin sign she was wearing kept my ass in my chair. I had the feeling I’d get bitten if I went anywhere near a wounded Lilly.

They gave her crutches and pain medicine and then I was helping her to my car. The ride back to her apartment seemed to take forever. I had to break the silence soon, this was crazy. I’d never had any problems talking to a female. Fixing cars aside, smooth talking the ladies was always easy for me.

I turned the radio down.

“Lilly, I’m sorry I didn’t call. I know you’re pissed off at me and…,” I started.

“I’m not mad—I understand.”

That stopped me. How could she possibly understand? Did her mother tell her?

“You understand?”

“Yepper deppers,” she slurred.

“Are you OK?” I asked.

She ran her fingers through her hair causing her bangs to slide over her eyes. I head bobbled a little before finally falling back against the headrest. I watched as a strand of her dark hair fell down her cheek and onto her neck.  I suddenly felt like I was driving a drunk chick home from a party.

“Thy drugs are quick,” she slurred a quote from Romeo and Juliet before she laughed hysterically. “I should’ve probably mentioned that I have zero tolerance for pain meds, huh?” she spewed another burst of laughter.

There was no way in the world she’d take me seriously now. She was high out of her mind—glazed-over eyes and all!

Once we got to her apartment, I had to practically pull her out of my car. She laughed the whole way to the door while trying to maneuver one crutch and my arm at the same time. I caught myself laughing, too. The simple fact was she was a cute druggie.

If I were any other guy, I could take full advantage of this situation. I could bang her back out and she would have no idea about it in the morning. If I were any other guy that’s probably what I’d do. Instead, I took her key, opened her door, and then helper her to the couch where she collapsed in laughter, pulling me down with her.

I felt her arms go around my waist and my entire body reacted. The sensation shot straight down my abs and into my thighs. My jeans went tight in the crotch just that quickly and I freaked. As fast as I could, I pulled back and tried to get up to close the door.

“Don’t leave,” she slurred with her eyes closed. “I don’t want to be alone—I’m so tired of being alone.”

She looked up at me with unfocused, sad eyes before her head fell to my shoulder. She was out like a light.

I laid her back and then propped her legs up on the couch, careful not to touch her cut. I got up, shut the front door, and then contemplated whether or not I should leave her or wait until her roommate got home. I decided to wait and sat on the loveseat watching TV for what felt like hours.

Her last words before she fell asleep lingered in my mind. She was tired of being alone. Maybe when this is all over with I’d find her a nice guy who could appreciate her. All things considered, she was actually kind of great. Too damn good for a disconnected piece of shit like me. My own mother didn’t want me, why would that sweet piece of woman lying on the couch want me. I’m not good enough, but there was some dude out there that was and I’d find him if I could. It was the least I could do considering what I was doing to her.

I looked over and watched as she slept peacefully on the couch. She looked angelic… all innocence and I was the devil. I was the horrible fiend who was swooping in to attack. I suddenly felt a little sick to my stomach.

“I have to do this,” I said to no one, as I changed the channel and hardened my heart.

Finally, I felt myself getting tired and before long I was sleeping, too. I don’t know how long I slept, but I woke to someone saying “ouch” over and over again. I looked up to see Lilly limping towards the kitchen. I jumped up to help her.

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m thirsty,” she was breathing hard.

“Why didn’t you wake me up, I’ll get it for you. Here sit down before you bust your stitches.” I helped her back to the couch and then went digging through the nicely decorated kitchen.

I found a coke in the refrigerator and took that to her.

“You want anything else. Are you hungry? I could make you something.”

“No, but thanks,” she rolled the coke can in her palms nervously. “You can go. You don’t have to sit here and babysit me. I really appreciate it, but I can call my mom and have her come over until Shannon gets home,” she winced in pain, as she put her leg back up on the couch.

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