Zooming in, I tried to look at the reflection through the windows, but I couldn’t tell who was taking the picture or if it was new. She was supposed to be going out with me, and now she looked like that? How many dates does she go on? But when I looked at the caption, I saw it was an old picture. ‘Remembering the time I used to hide my Dexcom in pictures. Here’s your sign to not do that.’Scanning it, I barely noticed the Dexcom on her right arm. It was angled to the side and almost hidden, obviously done on purpose. I never noticed her having one while at work.
Scrolling down her feed, I looked for another picture of her. Sure enough, this time she had the patch on her stomach with something else on the other side and clipped to her pants. Only this time she was pointing to it while holding her shirt up and a candy bar in her hand.
How the hell did I miss this the first time I looked at her account?
Looking through the comments, everyone was saying how much she inspired them, and that’s when I saw the caption.Yes, here I am with a chocolate bar filled with sugar. Want to know why? Because eating a ‘bad’ diet isn’t how I got diabetes. Type one is not caused that way. My body does not produce insulin. So sometimes I need that sugar and fast. I have an insulin pump, but some days you want that chocolate, and that’s okay. You’re allowed to enjoy the good things in life. Adjust, and always keep an eye on your sugar. Thanks to my Dexcom, I always know when I need a boost or if there is a problem with my pump. Thanks to my pump, I know my body is getting the insulin I need. Neither is foolproof, and I still take finger pricks when I feel like something might be off, but both things keep me alive. To know more about type one and what it’s like day to day, you can follow me at Emma_Needs_Insulin.
I instantly clicked the link and went and read every single post. From when she got diagnosed, stories about how her mom never cared and her brother was the one who made sure she was taken care of. The things she does to help and how she manages to keep herself healthy while working a full-time job that has her on the go a lot of times.
If I learned anything, it was that she was a badass and a fighter. Everything I already knew about her. As I was finishing my light stalking, she texted me back.
Think about coming, or think about bringing your voice?
Okay, maybe I should have been more clear on that.My voice. I’ll be there.
See you then, Grumpy.
Grumpy? I might just ruin her after all.
* * *
The place she picked wasn’t too far from where I lived and wasn’t the fanciest, so I threw on a black t-shirt and some dark jeans. It wasn’t like I knew what to wear to a date, or more so a date that won’t end in sex, so I guess this would have to do. Grabbing all my stuff, I headed to my car and made my way to the restaurant. I was a little early but figured that would be better than being on time since I had agoodfeeling innocent little Emma would also be here early.
When I stepped inside the cozy restaurant that was covered in way too many plants, I found that I was right when I saw Emma out of the corner of my eye. Her back was to me, but I could spot that red hair anywhere.
“You can sit anywhere you would like.” A waitress told me as she was bringing water to someone.
Giving her a smile, I walked to the table Emma was at and lightly brushed her arm.
“Shit!” She jumped, throwing her hand over her chest. “You scared me.”
“My bad.” I chuckled, sitting down in front of her.
“Why did you ask me on this date?”
Well, okay, then. Right to it. “Should I have not?”
“You don’t seem to like me very much,” she pointed out.
“That’s just how I am. I like you.”
“You mean you like to sleep around.”
“Emma,” I warned.
“I’m not judging you. I do the same.”
Fucking. Hell. The thought of her sleeping with someone else shouldn’t make me as angry as it does. “Do I sleep around? Yes. But did I ask you here to sleep with you? No.”
“Not sure if I should take that as a compliment or not.”
“Take it how you see fit.” I smirked.
She opened her mouth but quickly shut it when the waitress walked up to us and asked for our drink orders. She orderedwater, so I followed her lead. Looking more closely at her, she looked so different than when we’re at work. More relaxed. More herself. She was wearing a flowy summer dress, her hair was loosely curled, and fuck, those freckles.
“Are you going to keep staring at me?” She raised her eyebrow.
“You’re beautiful.”
