A Selfish Moment

17 - MONDAY - Jubilee - 1:00 AM

When we arrived at my building and saw the police tape squaring off the entrance to Sophie's building, I imagined what her last few moments were like, being attacked in her hallway, feeling the blood drip from her gut, knowing that she might die. A million questions clouded my mind in the few seconds it took to walk into my building. Did she know the attacker? Did she suspect someone was going to try and kill her? Why couldn't Isaac have arrived earlier? Why couldn't Sophie have gone out on Saturday night instead of Sunday, so we would have been out to dinner like we had planned? Why this block? Why her building and not the next one? Is my building secure? Do I have enough locks on my apartment door? I need to go over emergency protocol with Aryana, so she knows what to do in case something like this happens to me, or to us.

When I finally tucked Aryana in and peeked up at myself in the curly-carved, pink princess mirror hanging on her wall, I was disgusted with the person staring back at me. My hair was disheveled, my clothes mismatched, and I had bags under my eyes. Everett, one of the most handsome men I have ever met, is in my living room and I looked like this? If Sophie saw me she would wake up from her unconscious state just to slap me in my face. I smiled grandly as I visualized Sophie, in her hospital drape, barefoot, marching into my room and shaking me on my shoulders shouting, "Carpe Diem damn it! Carpe Diem!" I headed straight for the bathroom to wash up, comb my hair, and brush my teeth. No makeup, that's just absurd at this hour. A cold splash of water would have to do.

Somehow, as I fought off thoughts of Sophie's demise and the image of Aryana crying at her funeral, I prepared the coffee maker. "Sophie's going to be fine, I can feel it," I kept telling myself as I arranged the mess in the living room. Everett navigated through my kitchen mess and prepared a tray with the coffee, sugar, milk, and cookies. As he balanced the tray down to the center table I started thinking...when was the last time a guy has been in my apartment?

I suddenly felt nervous. I sat down on my couch and crossed my legs a few times trying to relax. I mean, it's my home, this is my couch, and I should be comfortable, right? I can't even look at Everett without feeling the heat rise up into my cheeks. I have been avoiding his stare all night. I don't want him to see me weak, to be sorry for me. I don't want to see pity in his eyes.

As I poured sugar into my mug, I thought about Everett spending the night and me riding him like a naked cowgirl on a mechanical bull. Once we cleared up last night's incidents, after he almost scolded me for insinuating Menajahtwa, I wanted to straddle him right on my couch.

But I couldn't. Sophie might be dying in the hospital for Christ's sake! What the hell was wrong with me?

First things first, I had to call Sophie's parents. I couldn't wait until tomorrow morning. This was something I had to do right away in case things took a turn for the worse.

"Why don't you get some sleep?" Everett says softly, bringing me back to the moment. I nod with my head still burrowed in his embrace.

After a few more minutes of wallowing in the warmth of Everett's sculpted upper body, of breathing in his sweet ivory-soap musk, of slowly swaying arm in arm and side to side, I finally pull myself away. I can't bear looking up at him. I know I'll kiss him if I do. Sophie is in the hospital, probably dying, and here I am aching to lock my lips onto his. I'm the lowest form of human being there is, the worst friend a girl could have. I linger under his chin, facing downward, for another few seconds before he steps back and tilts his head low to look into my eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asks with his eyebrows arched.

"Yeah. Just thinking." I turn my gaze away from his.

"Let's go to sleep." He says, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. He walks over to the couch and starts piling all the pillows onto the bench by the window.