It's around ten in the morning when I decide to crawl out of bed. I barely slept, too busy thinking about the events from earlier. I must've checked on Angel at least four times,too, in fear that she would wake up and leave. I couldn't imagine what she would end up doing on her own, what she has been doing the past.. how long has she been prostituting? The thought sickens me, and the images flittering through my mind only add to the nausea. I pee, brush my teeth, and carefully pick up the coat that she left on the bathroom floor before going into the living room. She's still asleep, practically burying her face into the blanket, one leg sticking out of her little burrito. I can't help but laugh to myself- this is the girl I remember, the girl I lived with close to eight years ago. Huh, I never even realized it was that long.. We were 19 when we shared an apartment, in our first year of college. She graduated with her bachelors at 22, five years ago, while the rest of us pursued our Masters.To think that I really haven't seen her since then, that I was a stranger from then to now, is unsettling.
I shake my thoughts off and go right to work on finding the nearest clinic, as I promised her. About an hour away, but there probably won't be any traffic due to the blizzard. I look out the window and see the snow finally stopped, all of the cars still bombarded in it, but the roads have been salted an cleared. I make the call in my office on the other side of the house so she doesn't hear, and explain the best I could to the receptionist. I'm relieved to hear genuine concern in her voice simply because that means they won't cut any corners in examining her, and thank the lady several times before I end the call. They fit her in for a two o-clock appointment, leaving time for me to fix breakfast and let her sleep a bit more before we have to leave. I don't waste any time as I prepare our breakfast, a bacon-and-cheddar omelet with a side of fruit. I hope she can stomach it, as I really don't know how her diet has been. I set the table, fix a cup of ginger ale for her and coffee for me, and make my way over to the couch once everything is ready.
"Good morning Angel." My voice is soft as I gently stroke her hair, receiving a slight groan in response. She shifts so her face is in the couch cushion, and I can't help but chuckle. "Your breakfast is getting cold."
She slowly perks her head up at the word breakfast, blinks a few times, and assesses where she is. It takes her a second to remember, and sighs, picking herself off the couch and unraveling from her blanket. "You didn't have to cook anything, Oliver." She mumbles as she hypocritically walks over to the table, holding her stomach. "But thank you." She adds, and without any hesitation starts to dig in. I join her, all the while watching in amusement as she scarfs her food down.
"Careful, A. You'll end up swallowing the fork too." She looks up at me with a sarcastic smile, shoving another piece of egg down her throat. She finishes the whole thing before I even finish half. I offer her some more fruit, and she nods, eating practically everything that I give her. I dare to ask, "When did you actually eat a full meal last?" She shrugs, fork-in-hand, and pops one last strawberry in her mouth.
"Atleast a month." She answers mid-chew, looking away. I finish my meal in silence s she stares at her glass of ginger ale. When I finish, almost instinctively, she stands up and grabs our plates and puts them in the sink before I can even protest. "You've done so much for me already. I should atleast clean up before I leave."
"I hope you don't assume you're leaving today. As I told you, I'm taking you to the clinic. Jan'll bite my head off, but I'd feel safer if you stay until your results come in." She looks uneasy as she hears this, and our eyes meet again. She remains quiet, her gaze not leaving mine, then sighs in defeat.
"Thank you." The only two words she can muster, yet I know there's much more she's wanting to say. I pat her shoulder, smile, and start going into the hallway.
"I'm gonna take a quick shower, if you don't mind. The remote's on top of the TV, feel free to watch it while you wait." She nods with a quiet thank you, and by the time I return, she's glued to the Nicktoons channel with the most relaxed face I've seen since I let her in. I never realized how cute she was, all frumped up in that purple sweatsuit, her hair tucked behind her ears, hands on her knees as she watches a rerun of Fairly Oddparents. Jan would gauge my eyes out if she knew what I was thinking. I don't blame her. I startle Angel with a sigh, our eyes meet again, and the two of us laugh nervously. "Sorry." I flip open my phone, and see that somehow it's already close to one. "We should get going, your appointment is at two." I look her top-to-bottom again. "Are you alright in those? I'll grab you one of my jackets too."
"I'm perfectly fine with the one I brought, thank you." I hear a bit of stubbornness in her tone, and knowing I can't argue, I fetch the old thing for her. It smells like booze, drugs, and semen. How the hell does she wear this? I want to protest, but she grabs it and throws it on before I can even say a word. Looks like Jan's not getting her sweats back. I can't help but chuckle, and she raises an eyebrow at me. I shake my head, grab my jacket and keys, and unlock the door.
And thus begins the most unsettling hour in a car in my entire life.
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