Tender (Book 1 - Complete)

Chapter 20 - Jamie

So, it appears that my mom has got high hopes for Lynn and me. She keeps shooting me 'suggestive' eyebrows anytime Lynn's around. Apparently, my mom thinks she's completely adorable. Too bad she doesn't understand the depth of our friendship, which is all we have, and the fact that my stupid heart hasn't been able to get completely over Penny yet. Lynn's a good, loyal friend, but that's it. Besides, there's no point in a relationship right now because I'll be leaving the moment I get a chance to escape this place.

My dream still remains. I want solitude, especially now with all that I've been through. Some time to myself where I can sit and ponder all the psychological aspects of what I've suffered might do me heaps of good. While my mood has improved, I'm still not the guy I used to be. I find myself living a half-life. Things are all good and fine in the light when I need the world to know that I'm over all that's happened, but when night comes, my mood dampens. That's when the nightmares hit... and they are not pleasant.

It's about that time now. I've learned to take care of myself pretty well these days, and I've just finished massaging my stump when the gloom begins to settle over my conscious. I know sleep will be rough tonight; it usually is... so I try to avoid it.

I've just settled myself against my pillows, hoping to numb my mind with The Walking Dead when my mom hollers that I have company. I groan aloud, not thrilled to have to entertain now that I've removed my fake leg. Everyone's seen it, but it's been awhile. Since I got my prosthetic, I do my best to keep it in place until I know my day is done. I like to appear normal for as long as I can. It seems that nine o'clock is too early to be hoping for no company.

A knock on my door a moment later has me struggling to get beneath the covers before whoever's out there decides to waltz in. It's one thing for someone to see my stump while I'm wearing my shrinker sock, but having eyes on the bare flesh and scars is like letting someone stare at me buck naked. I'm just not ready for that step.

"Come in," I yell, once my comforter is in place.

The door swings open and Lynn peers inside. "Hey," she says, her eyes taking in my relaxed state and the TV paused on The Walking Dead intro.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, curious.

"Yeah, sorry about that," she says, stepping into my room and shutting the door behind her. "I would have called first, but this was rather last minute."

"Oh." I motion for her to come join me on the bed, and she does. "What's up?"

"Nothing serious," she admits. "Both of my parents are sick, and I needed some air. I swear they're working to hack up a lung or something. I just can't handle it. Every time one of them coughs, I honestly worry they're going to throw up—that's how violent they are. And since my gag-reflexes are pathetic, I had to get out of there before I really did start vomiting."

"Well," I say, "I doubt my mom's gonna let you spend the night. She's highly against guy-girl sleepovers."

Lynn laughs, throwing a pillow at my head before kicking her shoes off and getting comfortable beside me.

"So," she begins to say, her voice low—almost seductive, "would your mom freak out if she saw us snuggling on your bed?"

Now it's my turn to laugh. "You call this snuggling?" My eyebrows quirk up as I observe the distance between us.

"Would you like me to move closer?" she asks, peering up at me.

I know she's teasing, but there's a look in her eyes that I can't quite decipher. And while I'm working to read her, she's doing the same to me. We watch each other for a moment, her face serious until suddenly she bursts into a fit of laughter.