Friends with Benefits - Nicole Blanchard Page 0,2
done anything for him.
I did do anything for him.
Was that where I went wrong? Had I made it too easy? Was I one of those women who got boring in a relationship because I wasn’t exciting or sexy enough?
My thoughts spiraled down a black hole, and I covered my face with a pillow until I’d cried myself dry. I must have dozed off at times because a sudden realization would jerk me awake, and then it would start all over again.
One day, I told myself. I’d give him one day of being upset, and then I’d push it away, bury it deep, and never think of this—or him—again.
It was wishful thinking, considering we’d been together for a long time. But the thought of feeling this way forever, of giving in to the temptation to give way to a despair so all-encompassing, was overpowering. I was afraid I wouldn’t survive it.
The front door slammed, and pattering feet bounded into the apartment. The twins were home. I shot to my feet and winced as a headache throbbed insistently behind my eyes.
“Ember!” one of them called.
“Shh!” said the other. “What if she’s sleeping?”
The first scoffed. “She’s never sleeping.”
It made me laugh. They always made me laugh. Raising them never should have fallen on my shoulders, but it had. Even with the burden of taking care of my sisters, they were the lights of my life. The sound of their innocent debate drew me from the shelter of blankets, and I glanced at my phone to find it blinking 3:24 p.m. I must have fallen asleep after my crying jag.
“Do you think we should check on her? What if she’s sick?” the second asked.
“Maybe we should get the therbombiter, Tillie.” Which meant it was Molly speaking.
“Do you know how to use it?” Molly asked with clear interest.
“Sure. All you do is stick it in her mouth and push the button. I’ll get it from the medicine cabinet. You get a glass of water and the throw-up bowl in case she’s stomach sick.”
Matilda Leanne was the oldest of my twin sisters—by a whole twenty minutes. It may as well have been twenty years for how she bossed around her younger sister, Molly Elizabeth.
The patter of their feet echoed down the hall, and I decided to wait for them to return to see what they would do. Besides, I didn’t have the energy to get back to my feet quite yet. As I contemplated getting up, I heard them return.
“You knock, Tillie,” Molly said.
“No, you knock,” Tillie replied.
“You always tell me what to do,” Molly whined, but a rapping sound followed anyway.
“Ember, are you ‘kay? It’s us.”
My face felt like I’d been repeatedly punched as I smiled and raised my voice to say, “Come in.” I wiped away any evidence of tears and tried in vain to straighten my hair and look like I hadn’t been crying for hours.
Two orange-headed girls of six bounded into my room. Tillie’s curls were soft waves that floated around her shoulders. Molly’s were tight ringlets that bounced with each step. They were both the terrors and the lights of my life.
“We brought you some water and a therbombiter. Are you sick?” Tillie asked as she sat on the side of the bed. Molly climbed up and around to my other side.
“Just a little tired,” I said, edging around the truth. “The water will help.”
I took the glass Molly offered, amazed she hadn’t spilled it during her climb up. The water was tepid, but wet, and after crying for hours, I felt like a wrung-out rag. I was probably a little dehydrated.
The girls stared at me, expectantly. “Thank you, babies,” I said with a squeeze. “This is perfect. Do you have homework?”
Tillie wagged her finger at me, and Molly giggled. “No work until you feel better. You always let us watch TV when we don’t feel good.”
I didn’t have it in me to argue. Homework could wait. I pulled the girls close, sighing as their little bodies fit into my side.
Who needed a man when I had them?
Chapter Two
Tripp
Freshmen Year
“Hey, hotshot,” a voice called out.
Looking up, I glowered at the source and then felt a jolt go through my body. A beat-up sedan was stopped behind the car of the girl I was hitting on. The driver leaned out, her glossy red hair tumbling over her shoulders. Her eyes were spitting fire, even over the short distance. They made me forget my original goal—the pretty little brunette sorority chick I’d been