5

8.5K 498 165
                                    

I was up with Hailie that night at one when Chloe texted me a picture we'd taken at the orchid show. Oh my God, we were the most adorable couple ever. She followed it up:

 She followed it up:

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.


I looked at the picture again. What were the chances she would see it if I made it my lock screen and background? 

I did it anyway, fuck it. My phone buzzed again.

 My phone buzzed again

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.


Bubble Guppies sang about restaurants for the millionth time on TV, and Hailie sat with her binkie in her mouth, holding her blanket against her cheek, bright-eyed and awake as she would be for the next two hours. At least during the night she would sit and watch TV. During the day she needed nearly constant attention because she was for the most part unable to entertain herself yet.

I pulled my hoodie over my head and slipped up the little staircase to my attic room. It was little larger than a closet but fit a double bed with about a foot of room left around it. The plus was the window that opened onto the flat roof, and a skylight next to it through which I could see Hailie and monitor what she was doing. 

I also had a ladder to the ground for my own private entrance. 

I sat in my chair out there. Butterflies fluttered inside as I called her. "Hey," she said, and the butterflies multiplied at the sound of her voice. "If you can't talk it's totally cool."

"No, I can," I assured her. "I'm up for awhile." I got my weed out and was glad we weren't in a residential neighborhood so no one was bothered by the smoke. A few puffs now and then worked nicely for me; the mellow high I got from a few puffs of the right strain was just what the doctor ordered. 

"So your cousin's autistic? That's cool. So's my brother." She laughed a little. "Which I already told you, sorry. I'll just repeat myself because it's not like I don't talk enough already."

"Talk all you like, I'm interested," I protested truthfully. Her voice was soothing; I would listen to it all night. Preferably in my ear, in bed next to me. It was like listening to a really good song for the first time. "Go on, seriously. As long as you're not going to wake up your boyfriend or whatever." The word tasted bad on my tongue.

Catching RainbowsWhere stories live. Discover now