Nepenthe (Bracing for Love #2) by Lindsay Paige Page B

because you're pissy and moody all the time anyway haha! Or ref because then people would have to listen to you and the calls you make and you wouldn't care if they didn't like it.
    Me: You think you're funny with the coach line, don't you?
     
    No need to tell her it made me smile.
     
    Olivia: That was hilarious and you know it.
    Me: I didn't laugh.
    Olivia: No? Did you at least smile?
    Me: Maybe.
    Olivia: :D Good enough for me! So...I've been thinking.
     
    Oh, God. What insane shit is she going to talk me into now? Pilates? Is that what it's called? I almost don't even want to ask, but I do.
     
    Me: About what?
    Olivia: We should go out and have fun...instead of being in my apartment all the time.
    Me: Go out? Are you asking me on a date?
    Olivia: No. I'm old fashioned. If you want to go out on a date with me, then you're going to have to ask. I meant as friends. And yes, go out. Like outside into the fresh air. Into society where you can roam free instead of being trapped in an apartment. What do you think?
     
    Trapped in my apartment? See, there's that weird crap she does. I like being trapped and I hate it. The weird part comes in because somehow she knows this already. And I guess if at some point in the future, I want to go on a date with Olivia, I'm going to have to ask her. It shouldn't worry me or freak me out, but it does a little bit. Only because it makes things a little harder for me. Does she deserve that? Absolutely. Will it give me a panic attack if I ask? Most definitely. Would I want to ask her anyway?
    Maybe.
    If I knew for sure she wouldn't turn me down. She's a pain in the ass sometimes, but in her own way, she understands me more than anyone and there's not a chance in hell I would risk losing that.
     
    Olivia: Well??
    Me: Sunday?
    Olivia: Works for me. :)
     
    Let's just hope I have more energy to hang out with her then. Maybe the medication will be a miracle worker and work fast. He said I would be able to tell a difference anywhere from three to four days to two weeks, depending on how my body responds to it. I'm hoping for a fast response.

 
     
    THERE ARE FIFTY little cracks in my ceiling over the couch in the living room. Who knows how many more there are in the rest of the room. I'm crying, but I don't think it's over a crack-filled ceiling. Tears have been steadily falling down my face for like a million hours. Or maybe only a few. I'm not sure. I'm supposed to go somewhere with Olivia today, but I can't take my eyes off the ceiling. We've texted some and I've sent one-to-two-word responses. She's funny sometimes, but my lips don't move in a smile.
    Why am I crying?
    I'm not sad.
    I'm not a crier. I only cried once after my parents died and haven't done so since.
    Yet, here I am.
    My face scrunches up every few minutes like I'm in pain or something as more tears fall, but I'm not. This makes no sense. There's a knock on my door and I take a deep breath.
    “Come in,” I call out, sitting up and wiping away the relentless tears. No wonder I can't play anymore. I'm a wuss. Crying for no reason.
    “Corey?”
    I lift my head to see Olivia. Her eyes widen when she sees my face, most likely blotchy and teary and weak. Concern takes over as she sits next to me, wrapping an arm around my waist and analyzing me.
    “What's wrong? What happened? I knew something wasn't right. Your texts were weird.”
    My shoulders lift and fall in one big shrug. “I don't know.”
    “Nothing has happened?”
    “There's fifty cracks in my ceiling.” I point with one finger up to them.
    “And you're crying about that?”
    “No. Just saying.”
    She wipes away the tears on my cheeks, thinking. “How long have you been like this?”
    “All day. Why can't I stop? I don't cry.”
    “I bet you don't,” she agrees solemnly. “It might be the medication. You were just lying here and started crying?” I nod. “Where's your appointment card? They usually have a person on stand-by for things like this. I'll call