“AM??”
“Uh, yeah.” Pointing out the obvious, I notice his eyes are red and very tired looking.
People said that Flynn looked nothing like me. His features were similar to my grandpapa. His light eyes bordering on green and mousy-brown hair with honey highlights, made him look more Russian. He wore it long; the strands falling past his eyes and almost touching his chin. For a growing man who ate absolute rubbish all the time, his skin was as flawless as a baby’s bottom. Though of late, he appeared to be growing a slight beard that made him look more mature.
It was often asked if we were a couple because we didn’t appear related. Stupid people with narrow-minded opinions that completely grossed us both out. Mom found it amusing. How two children could be so different. You only had to look at me to see I was of mixed race. My almond-shaped eyes were a dead giveaway.
“What time did you get home last night?”
“Don’t know.”
“Okay, so what are your plans for today?”
“Don’t know.”
My frustration comes out quickly. “Flynn, I get it. I really do. You don’t want to be here. But making it impossible to live won’t make it easier.”
I pour a cup of coffee and bring it to him, setting it on the coffee table that I bought from a cheap second-hand store a block from the apartment. It’s shaped like an old trunk, made from a combination of hardwood and leather. Flynn hated it.
“If we both work hard, the quicker we can—”
“Yeah, I get it alright?” He jumps to his feet, almost crashing into me. “I need a shower.”
“Flynn,” I call his name, trying to reign in my frustration. He stops just shy of the bathroom door. “How about we go out for dinner tonight? Your pick.”
“Can’t. Got a gig.”
“A gig? As in you’re playing in a band?”
“Kinda, sorta.”
“Okay, well, either you are or you aren’t.”
Exhaling, he turns around to explain himself. “There’s a group of guys I met. We just play at this local joint. Pays peanuts, but you know, whatever.”
“Wow.” I’m proud of him for finding a band but equally worried about who these people were. “Well, how about I drop by tonight?”
He shrugs his shoulders which I took to mean whatever, disappearing into the bathroom before saying another word.
“Hi Emerson!” I wave, quick to rush over to her as she carries her daughter, a diaper bag and juggling a folder with papers inside it.
“Oh, thank God,” she breathes out, worried and anxious about something. Emerson normally dressed impeccably but her messy bun and crinkled shirt said otherwise.
“Hey, pass me that.” I grab the folder and diaper bag, cooing at baby Lola. I wasn’t much of a baby person but Lola was awfully cute. She was one of those chubby babies with thunder thighs. Completely acceptable as a baby. Not so much when you’re twenty-five and trying to shimmy your way into a pair of skinny jeans.
“Is everything okay?”
“Lola woke up with a fever. I don’t want to leave her with anyone but I have two meetings to attend today.”
I bend down and place my hand on her cheek. Her skin is hot and something Emerson had every right to be worried about. “Listen, take her to the doctor and I’ll sit in on the meetings.”
“We can reschedule the studio meeting but the other—”
“Leave it with me.” I smile and giggle at Lola, hoping it’s a small bug that she needed to get over. “This cutie wants her mommy so…”
My words are cut short as a loud burp followed by warm white liquid hits the front of my shirt. There’s a delayed reaction on my end, falling back as if I had been hit by a bullet.
The bullet just happened to be baby vomit.