“I guess I’ll accept that. But only because you’re the first person I’ve ever met thatthrows up because of it.”
He’s frowning when I glance his way, hovering awkwardly beside me with his fists twisted in the sleeves of his hoodie.
When he finally glances up and catches the tip of my lips, his twitch. He stops fidgeting.
“Does that make me weird?”
I snort, I can’t help it. “We’re all a lil weird, bubs.” Sifting through the clothes I have left in my locker, I pull out something to wear under my uniform and turn to Emmett. “I have a few things in here if you want to change?”
He takes a moment to assess his state, then shakes his head. “I don’t know how I didn’t get any on me.”
Chuckling, I toe off my boots and grab my shower caddie. “I think I caught it all for you.”
The slump of his shoulders makes my stomach turn.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers to my feet.
“It’s not the first time I caught puke,” I say with a tilt to my lips and a knot in my stomach.Does he not know I’ve already dealt with his? “Now why don’t you go grab the mop bucket from the hall closet? There’s a big sink in there to fill it with.”
His nod is somber, but he slumps away to go find it while I shower.
I’m in and out in two minutes, the freezing cold scrub down like a jolt to my system that has me feeling wired when I snag the bottle of mouthwash and find Em again.
He looks as lost as ever.
Even with a mop in his hands and a bucket next to him.
“It’s okay, bubbles,” I say quietly, though he still jumps, and offer him the bottle. “Trade?”
There’s the faintest nod as he accepts it and takes off back toward the bathroom while I finish mopping up the mess.
Most of it was already gone, so it only takes a minute to hide the evidence and put the bucket away.
Em’s still not out when I start collecting the rubbing alcohol pads, Band-aids, and butterflies from the supply closet and that energy I was feeling zips away fast.
I still haven’t told him.
Running the hem of my shirt under my nails with my free hand, I find him in the bathroom by the lockers, the bottle still in his hand.
“Em?”
There’s a jolt to his shoulders and he spins too fast.
“Y-yeah?”
I lift a brow and subtly glance down to the sink. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Yep. Mhmm. Was I taking too long?” He thrusts out the bottle and looks down. “I’m sorry.”
Shaking my head, I gesture to my locker. “You can put it up.”
He moves around me like I have the plague and my brows furrow deeper.
What the fuck was he doing?
Stepping up to the oddly clean sink, I check my reflection in the mirror for the first time since yesterday morning and it steals my breath.
“Jesus fuck,” I mutter with a twist to my stomach.
