Kiss To Forget (Blairwood University #2) - Anna B. Doe Page 0,42
that ended up swallowing me whole.
It’s a dream I’ve been having often lately, or some variation of it, and every time it’s left me more unnerved than the last.
It’s just a dream. Don’t be a pussy, Cole.
Then where the hell is she?
Getting to my feet, I check the bathroom, but when I don’t find her there either, I go downstairs. As I’m descending the stairs I hear excited chatter followed by a laugh coming from the kitchen.
Mom’s laugh.
Jade’s laugh.
The sound feels so foreign to my ears. It didn’t used to be. Once upon a time we were a noisy family. We’d talk loudly, laugh until tears came to our eyes, and run down the hallways like crazy playing games. Yet somehow over the last few months—ever since Mom’s cancer came back once again, followed by Dad leaving—we’ve tried our best to be quiet, as if not to upset her.
The smell of eggs, bacon and coffee fills the space, and I follow it until I get to the kitchen, where Mom, Jade and Yasmin are sitting around the table, which is full of food. I stop at the threshold and watch. They’re talking and laughing like they’ve been best friends forever.
I’m not sure if I should be relieved or upset.
Mom notices me first. Wiping her mouth with a napkin, she says, “Look who finally decided to show up.”
Now all three heads have turned around toward me, but my eyes are set on one person.
Yasmin.
With all that has happened, I completely forgot she was here. Maybe I didn’t forget, maybe I just want to believe it’s some weird dream instead of reality, but seeing her sitting at the kitchen table between my mother and sister seems too fucking real.
She’s still wearing the shirt I gave her last night, which turns out to be one of the shirts from my high school football team. It looks to be big in the shoulders, the short sleeves falling all the way to her elbows, but I bet if she were to stand right now it would show off a decent part of her legs.
Don’t think about her legs, asshole.
Propping my hip against the doorway, I quirk a brow at them. “If I knew there was a party, I’d have been here even sooner.” Pushing away from the door, I enter the room and go for the coffee maker first. I need coffee—stat, otherwise I’ll fall asleep on my feet.
I’m not sure at what point I fell asleep last night, but for the better part of the evening I just sat by Mom’s bed and watched her sleep. She’d mumble something every now and then, shift from side to side occasionally, but not once did she wake up.
“I told Jade to let you sleep,” Mom says, giving me a hard look. I don’t have to read minds to read her expression.
You didn’t have to sleep by my bedside.
So I shoot her an equally stubborn look of my own. I wanted to. Deal with it.
Breaking our staring contest, I get a mug and pour myself coffee.
Even if I don’t sleep in her bedroom, every time I come home, I always wake up a few times during the night and just go in to check on her. It’s unreasonable, because seriously, what could I do? My knowledge of first aid is minimal at best. Still, I can’t let go of the fear that one day I’ll come, and she won’t open her eyes. Because the reality is, that day is coming whether we want it or not.
“If she waited for me to come and help her downstairs, like she should have, you wouldn’t be as lucky,” Jade huffs.
“No matter how you treat me, I’m not an invalid,” Mom protests.
Yet.
The word hangs ominously over our heads, a reminder of what’s to come. Before the silence can stretch for too long, she continues, “Besides, we have a guest.” Her eyes, clearer than they were last night, focus on me. “You forgot to mention that.”
“There were other things that were more… pressing,” I finally finish, taking a chair at the table. I grab a piece of bacon and pop it into my mouth, enjoying the crispiness of it. I look at my sister across from me. “Did I enter an alternative universe or did you suddenly learn how to cook?”
Jade kicks me underneath the table with her leg. “Asshole,” she mutters, giving me a dirty look. “No, I didn’t learn how to cook. Yasmin made it.”