Color Blind

Chapter Fourteen

AN: Mad Season again, with Long Gone Day. Also, to my non-followers: The Maze (sample on profile) starts a free period on Kindle today. (The Kindle app is free, so you can read it without the device.)

http://www.amazon.com/Maze-Ravens-Curse-Book-ebook/dp/B00EPG45M4/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1435501360&sr=8-1&keywords=lalla+squeglia+the+maze

* * *

Cole was vomiting again. He hadn't left the bathroom for the last hour. Thank God Sean wasn't home.

He missed his mother.

He never really thought of her anymore, but right now he could have done with a soft touch and some words of encouragement.

Cole hadn't seen his mother since he was six years old. She had walked out on his father one night after a particularly violent argument. He remembered the argument being at least partially about him. The morning after the argument, Sean had gone on a cleaning spree, throwing out everything she'd left behind. Cole's plush snake had been saved because he had left it at school by mistake. It lived under his mattress now, along with his sketchbook. Sean never looked under there. Cole hardly took it out, to be honest, out of paranoia.

Why'd you leave, Mom? he thought. Is it because of me? I'm sorry.

His stomach heaved and he puked again. He almost wished he'd been this sick back at rehab. Nancy probably would have brought him a glass of water to rinse his mouth out.

When the vomiting stopped, he lay back down on the rug. He wasn't going to move until Sean got home.

His wrist hurt.

He'd looked for a wrap for it, but they didn't have any and he didn't feel up to going to the store for one. Besides, Sean would notice he'd wrapped it and with Cole's luck, he would know they didn't have one in the house. It would be safer to just keep it very still. It wasn't broken, just sprained or something. He'd be fine.

He was about to nod off when bile rushed up his throat and into his mouth. He spat it out and hung his head over the toilet again. The smell of porcelain made him queasy.

Oh, yes. He would have appreciated a word or two of comfort. But he wasn't going to get it any time soon.

* * *

Nancy wasn't having a good day. She had woken up from a night terror and barely made it to the bathroom in time to throw up. Now she was huddled in the shower, blinking from the overly bright lights. Her head hurt.

She had never felt so utterly alone in her life. As a child and a teenager she had always had lots of friends. She'd been close with her family, too. Now, though, she hadn't called her mother in months and she didn't feel like she could answer the phone when her father called. The only person she spoke to outside of work was Janet, and that was because Janet didn't leave her alone. Nancy wondered if she knew.

She missed her father more than anyone else, but she couldn't bring herself to pick up the phone. He wouldn't understand. Even if she tried to hide it, he'd weasel it out of her. She couldn't let him know. She'd always been the perfect child: perfect grades, perfect friends, perfect everything. And now...

The water was getting cold and she dragged herself out of the shower. The bathroom was steamy and warm. Talk about a facial! Why pay when you could just run up your water bill instead?

She suddenly wanted a hug. Right now.

It had been a long time-ever since the incident last year-since she'd touched anyone willingly. Most of the time, the very idea made her skin crawl. Every so often she'd get the urge to hug someone, but it usually passed.

She settled tonight with her blanket and her teddy bear. She made popcorn and turned on the TV. Maybe she could get tired again now that she was comfortable and clean. At least she had a nice, long weekend to look forward to.

She was contentedly munching her popcorn when Cole popped into her head. He had a bad habit of doing that, really, and she wanted him to stop. She didn't need to be thinking about him. Not now, not ever.

Did he know, she wondered? She doubted it, but sometimes he would look at her as though he did. She hoped he didn't know. For some reason, that just didn't sit right with her. She really, really didn't want him to know.

He hadn't been jumped, she could tell that much. He'd probably gotten in a fight with someone. His dealer, perhaps. It was none of her business.

She got up and pulled the hide-a-bed out. She was going to sit out here the rest of the night.

Around four that morning, she was overwhelmed by the urge to cry. She retreated to the shower-surely the hot water was back-and sat under the spray, her tears mingling with the water.

God, she wanted to go back to being the perfect child.