The Good Girl. Christy Barritt

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СКАЧАТЬ breath before stepping into the small space.

      The scrape was deeper than I thought, and the spray from the bathroom sink burned. I wanted to squirm, but I had to keep steady, to hide the fact that blood caused me to tremble. Weaknesses were a personal no-no for me.

      “You okay?” Cooper held my arm as if he knew I might jerk it away.

      I nodded, as I always did. I was always okay, no matter what headed my direction.

      Whatever. Even I couldn’t fool myself with that way of thinking anymore.

      “Squeeze my arm if you need to. I know this can’t feel good.”

      I had no intentions of touching Cooper and definitely not squeezing his arm. My mom called it having scruples. While my arm was under the water, he rummaged around the medicine cabinet and pulled out some hydrogen peroxide.

      I soaked in his features again, now that he was closer, and confirmed my earlier assessment that this was one handsome man. Where was his wife? At work? Out of town?

      Before the man caught me, I looked away. Good Girls Rule #2: Never stare because it makes you look freaky.

      “This might sting.” He unscrewed the cap and began pouring solution down my arm. Pain burnt from my hand to my elbow. I squeezed his arm. His very muscular arm. I scolded myself for noticing—and for squeezing.

      “So who’s older—you or Lana? You guys could almost pass for twins.”

      Except that Lana liked her clothes short and tight, had a mouth like a sailor, and was rarely seen without alcohol in her hand. “We’re eleven months apart. I’m older.”

      He smiled, the action nice and calming, as he continued to examine my wound. “So how’d you get this cut?”

      “The windows. They needed shades. You know. I tried sheets instead.” I wasn’t sure what was wrong, but I’d lost my ability to speak in complete sentences. Maybe it had something to do with the pain screaming at me from my scraped appendage.

      “Sheets?”

      “Sister. Has Hummer. Not ready. To drive.”

      He smiled again, but it faded when he pulled out tweezers. “There’s a paint chip—”

      I closed my eyes, unable to watch, and squeezed his arm again. “Don’t tell me. Just do it. Whatever. I don’t need to know.”

      “There’s a Target not far from here. You could probably pick up something pretty cheap there. You know, since the sheets didn’t seem to work out.”

      I didn’t open my eyes, but I was quite certain from the lilt of his voice that he was smiling. “I’ll have to try that.” Although, if I’d injured myself with sheets and thumbtacks, what would I do with screws and actual tools?

      Note to self: Pick up first-aid kit at Target while buying shades.

      “Probably a good idea to cover up those windows. You don’t want to be too exposed.”

      Exposed. Exactly. That’s how I’d felt. At least someone understood.

      Of course, if I put up shades, I probably wouldn’t have time to go to the rave. Not that I was going to go anyway. Some kind of curiosity made me want to go and see what it was like, to see what I was missing out on.

      And it would give me some time away from the ghost living at Lana’s.

      Cooper dug at my arm.

      “Ouch!”

      He displayed the tiny sliver of paint between the tweezers. “Got it.”

      “Praise God,” I whispered. My face immediately flushed. “And I’m not saying that in vain. I mean it with every ounce of my being.”

      Not that this man probably cared. Most people didn’t anymore, so I didn’t know why I explained myself. I wasn’t even sure if I cared. But I had cared for so long. The fact was that I even confused myself on matters of spirituality right now, so explaining my feelings to anyone else would be a lesson in foolishness.

      “I just need to bandage this up and you’ll be set.”

      In gentle, swift motions, he wrapped white gauze around the wound. I noticed for the first time that he smelt like spearmint and baby shampoo, a surprisingly nice combination. “You’ll need to check this every day for infection, just to be safe. You have had your tetanus shot, right?”

      “Every seven years.”

      “Good girl.”

      “That’s me,” I mumbled.

      “All done.”

      Our eyes met for a moment, and I realized there was something about Cooper I liked. His eyes were kind and steadfast. He was the kind of neighbor anyone would want to have.

      I cleared my throat and turned my attention to little Austin, who was playing with a fire truck on the rug. “Cute boy.”

      “I think so.”

      I scanned the pictures on his bookcase and spotted a snapshot of Cooper, a baby, and a blonde. She was just the type of woman I expected to see with a man like Cooper—tanned, thin, and gorgeous. “Your wife is beautiful.”

      It seemed Cooper tried to smile, but failed. “Thank you.”

      I wondered about his reaction. Maybe they were separated, and I’d put my foot in my mouth. “I should go and see if I can maneuver the tank my sister insists on driving.”

      He leaned against the bookcase, his arms crossed over his chest in a relaxed manner. “We’ll drive you to Target if you want.”

      “Really? You don’t have to do that. It’s totally imposing on your day.”

      “You’re not imposing. Besides, there are a few things I need to pick up.”

      “That’s...really kind of you.” I shifted, not wanting to ask the next question but feeling the need to anyway. “Would that be weird for your wife, though?”

      Cooper looked away for a moment. “No, she’s...”

      Austin looked up at me with wide eyes. “She’s with Jesus in heaven.”

      My heart dropped, while at the same time being clutched with grief. “I’m so sorry.”

      “You didn’t know. It’s okay.” Cooper straightened and shoved his hands down into his pockets. “So about Target...?”

      My cheeks flushed at my mistake, but Cooper didn’t seem to have any hard feelings against me. Besides, I really needed to go to Target. “Yeah, that would be great. I’ll grab my purse and be right out.”

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