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SINCE THE ACCIDENT, I've had a sixth sense I think it started because of the pain I don't remember much about the cos stretched apart and pushed together like a dream—but I remember the pain It wasdifferent than the pain you feel when you're awake The kind of shit that flows through every part of you Sweeps you up and ss you And lots of ti like you hear a train from a few miles out

The day I had the stroke was like that I had started to come around a little, and my body knew its routines, even ifrong when they wheeledme from the private rehab where I started to a state facility for people whose families couldn’t afford more, or in my case, just said fuck it As they lifted my stretcher into the ambulance, I could feel a current of panic underneath the waves of nothing

Since I’ve co, bad things happen

Like when I got it twofor her to come out of Hunter West’s house in Napa I woke up from a nap drenched in cold sweat, just as Priscilla Heat—my dad’s former mistress, who sold her predecessor into the sex trade—walked around the house and tapped her long red nails on myAnd I knew, half a second before I saw the spark of her Taser, that I was fucked Sixth sense

Tonight, I telloffme feel bad That weird kind of bad I've cole and ht I blink in the

I don't shave every day anymore, but my pal Suri will be here in a few rim excursion, and I want to clean up for her

When was the last day I went out? Suri and Lizzy hauled ht before they left for Paris They got back yesterday—Friday—with Lizzy's wedding gown in tow I left the house on Monday Grocery run So yeah, it's been four days

I' it slow on my neck—I'm a leftie, and since my motorcycle wreck, my left hand’s pretty , I speed up Occasionally when I was in rehab, Suri shavedit takes ain

My fingers sweat as I finish up my jaw I hear the clack of expensive heels on the ce up tounder the razor, followed by a splotch of blood that quickly snakes downthe razor into the sink, when Suri calls my name

“Just a second,” I call through the door

Dammit, I sound surly

“Okay” Suri, as always, sounds like she belongs in the angel choir

I pull open the swing-outa shallow h the door, I can hear Suri huha cactus underneaththat's just a breath away from panic

I use ainst the cut while I ease my left aret caught on the inside of the cuff, and I'h when she calls, “C? You okay in there?”

“Fine” I' for a e it I still sound gru her night with Except, of course, my asshole parents—and they're the reason for this ordeal

I smash the tissue onto o with , but it's slowed enough now that I can get my shirt the rest of the way on

The dress shirt is blue, which I happen to know ht It feels like a lifetiht aboutmyself over now to see what my parents will see: dark brown hair still a little shorter than I used to wear it; probably a good thing, because it aze down my shoulders, chest, and pants, and then back up to my face, I see myself clearly for the first time in a while, and I'm surprised to feel a sick pit in my stomach