Read Online Drowning in You by Rebecca Berto - Free Book Online Page B

carton in my hand?
    I can’t do this Ro, I can’t
do…anything.
    Methodically, I pour the
boiling water, stir, and only tear my glare from some wispy trees
in the backyard to pour in the milk.
    Don’t make me haul my ass
thousands of miles back to you Charlee May!!! Corner him in a
shopping center or someplace public like that mechanics he works
at, drop your I’m Sweet And Dumb act and get the scoop!
    I can’t face him. I’d either
melt in his arms or stalk him from afar and both are creepy in
different ways.
    Dexter? Why
did you do this? How , I think. It…
    It makes no
sense, Ro, I type, finishing my
thought.
    I burn my fingers when I
register the hot mug is still in my grasp. I yelp and pull my
fingers back to my chest, watching the mug turn, the coffee spill,
the mug fall, the coffee explode. When the warp catches back up to
real time, the mug shatters on the tiles and the coffee explodes on
the floor, drowning a radius of several feet with brown pools and
splatters.
    A second, thirty seconds. Two
minutes.
    At that point I throw my hands
in the air and turn. I turn just like that, leaving the coffee
drowning the tiles. My body is light as I float to my car,
satisfied. My grin begins to ache once I slip into my seat
again.
    I haven’t been this satisfied
since before my mother left me and my father left me and Darcy
needed everything from me and I lost me.
    The radio is so quiet as I
drive. Randomly, voices will mumble something, sounding like fuzz,
but that quickly disappears too and the mess of coffee, the shards
of the ceramic mug splayed on the floor fill my vision and the
roasted bean smell fills my lungs, touched by the sweet hint of
sugar.
    I made that mess. I left that
mess right where it was.
    I feel
liberated, Ro. I type, navigating the
wheel with my knee and typing by my thigh so no one will
see. I’m driving there now, to see Dexter
and I’ll go get him!
    When my message pops on the
screen as sent, my jaw drops. What am I doing? And wow, I’m
actually pulling up at the mechanic’s around the corner from
me.
    I trip getting out of my car
because I’m gaping at the huge warehouse where some guys wear
overalls, some guys wear jeans or sweat pants, smears of grease
dulling the colors. Where there are shiny, smashed up cars, and a
vending machine loaded with drinks and potato chips and candy.
    And Dexter, legs spread under a
car, his foot twisting as he stretches farther under.
    For a moment I catch his abs,
which either a Hollywood makeup artist has sprayed to perfection,
or is just all-natural Dexter. His knees are bent, making for thick
thighs tight through his pants, and a V-shaped chest.
    Okay, so I’m imagining most of
the chest bit because that’s hidden by the car.
    I rip my eyes away. Shaking my
mind back into the empty space of my brain cavity, I duck behind a
pickup truck undergoing repair, because I’ve somehow left my car
parked too far away while I was drooling and being drawn toward
him.
    What’s wrong with me? What was
I doing?
    I check my
phone. A Facebook message from Rosa says, I’ll be checking in with you. You have a couple of hours and
then I’ll never speak to you again if you don’t talk to him. Shit,
Charlee, at least see if the rumors are true. This is killing
me!
    I don’t want Rosa to hate me.
She’ll be coming back to Melbourne in a few weeks and I can’t lose
the only friend who loves me. I step out in front of the shop and
take determined strides forward.
    Dexter’s gone, though. My feet
are parallel to the entrance, and a man with a protruding belly
lugs himself over. “You okay, ma’am?”
    “ Yeah, um.
Fine.”
    “ Need—” he
sweeps his hand over his forehead. It’s less shiny when he sighs
and says, “Need anything?”
    I shake my head so little that
he can’t have seen but he shrugs and walks off.
    I’m so silly!
Why didn’t I ask where Dexter is? I take in these big cars, and
these greasy guys with rough fingers and piles of heavy