“With relaxing, I mean. Making jewelry is nice, but I think it’s lost its edge. I’m in the market for something new.”
“What’s bothering you?” The question came naturally because I felt like I was talking to Chai. Iwastalking to her, but not as a friend. I was her awkward roommate who knew nothing about her.
Her face fell a bit at my question. I cursed myself for skipping a few steps too soon. She asked for tips on knitting and in turn, I asked for her to share something far deeper.
“You know, usual school stuff.” Naomi molded the clay into an unrecognizable shape. “And—please, don’t tell the guys this—but my birthday’s coming up.”
I knew that. A few of us in her stream Discord were planning a surprise. And I’d ordered her something special from her wish list.
“You don’t like your birthday?” I asked. She never mentioned disliking it on the stream. Not in private chats, either. If anything, she always sounded neutral about it. Not now, though. Her shoulders were slumped and her fingers fidgeting.
“It’s a day.” She paused so long I thought we were going to leave it at that. But with a deep breath, she finally added, “I don’t celebrate anymore. Not after my mom died.”
The flash of sadness across her face made my throat tighten. I itched to reach for her, to place my hand on hers, and press our shoulders together. I dared to move closer so she could at least feel the heat of my body. It wasn’t much, but I hoped it helped her feel less alone.
“We never celebrated or anything.” She brushed at her cheeks even though there weren’t any tears. “It only got hard because Mom loves attention. Even in death.”
I raised a brow, waiting for her to continue. Naomi picked up one of the jewelry-making instruments that had a sharp edge. She carved designs into the clay as she shared a secret with me that she hadn’t told Mid.
“She’s going to send me an email. Or, she already did.” She laughed humorlessly. “She used a scheduling service before she died. Lined up emails for my birthdays when she realized she wasn’t going to beat cancer.”
“And you don’t want the emails?” I watched her struggle to find words. Naomi resented her mother. She never said as much, but I could read between the lines in messages. Her smiles and joy were products of her upbringing. I could see how much she pushed herself not to be angry.
“I’ve only got one so far,” she said. “Didn’t read it. I couldn’t… I… sorry. The last thing I want to do is bring someone down.”
“You could never bring me down,” I said without thinking. My cheeks burned.
“That’s sweet of you to say.” She laughed a little. “But you don’t have to. You don’t have to pretend.”
“I’m not pretending. I have a hard time doing that. Especially around…well, people like you.”
She sat up straight like my words were a needle prick. It took me a moment to realize that shehadbeen pricked. Not by me, but the thing she’d been using on the clay.
“Shit.” She dropped the clay when a bead of blood formed on her index finger.
“Hang tight.” I pushed off the floor and hurried to get a first aid kit. There was one underneath the kitchen sink. By the time I made it back, Naomi was applying pressure in an attempt not to stain the carpet.
“Let’s see.” I reached for her hand, and she let me take it.
“I’m a klutz.” She winced when I urged her to straighten the finger, so I’d be able to clean it better.
“Nah, I shouldn’t have been distracting you." I tore open a disinfectant wipe packet with my teeth.
She stared at me as I wiped her finger. “True. This is half your fault.”
“I’ll take the full blame. It’s the least I could do.”
Naomi laughed, sounding surprised at my willingness. “God. And to think I was lightheaded over how you say my name. Now you go take responsibility without protest.”
“How I say your name? Have I been pronouncing it wrong?” That seemed improbable, but knowing me, I’d find a way to mess something like that up.
“Uh…” She blinked and shook her head. “No. I don’t know why I said that. You missed a spot. There.”
Naomi pressed her lips together and pointed to a small dot at the base of her finger. I cleaned it, still curious about her comment, but I left it alone.
“And there.” She pointed, looking earnest. I didn’t see a thing but I followed her directions. “There, too.”
Again, no spot. I cleaned clear skin and once I was done, she pointed at another blood-less area.
