This Ordinary Life Read Online Free Page A

Like right now, it causes physical pain to my insides, as if my internal organs are pin cushions in maximum capacity use, to remember how Sebastian—at one point a new and good boyfriend—spent day after day here with me during some of Danny’s longer hospital stays.
    And now he’s
status: single.
    Whatever. I close my eyes, instantly seeing this morning’s scene in my mind. Who was she? She of the mini skirt in my boyfriend’s bed? How could he? God, how freaking could he? I respect myself way too much to even talk to him again, let alone ask him about it, but it’s going to kill me to not know the details. How long was it going on? Was everything between us a lie?
    Thankfully a ding on the coffee machine alerts me to my Fresh When You Want It! cup of coffee. I grab it and head back toward Danny’s room.
    I walk quietly past the mostly open doors. A baby cries down at the other end of the hall, but it’s pretty quiet over here. When I turn the corner, a woman walks out of our room. She’s tall, with long curly hair held back by movie star sunglasses. Her bag slips from her shoulder, and crashes to the floor, spilling half its contents around her feet. She bends to pick it up and her sunglasses slide off her head.
    â€œCan I help?” I squat down to help her push random purse things into her bag—lip gloss, wallet, tampons—and she gives me a million-watt smile.
    â€œThanks, Darlin’,” she says with a southern drawl. I look behind her, wondering what this stranger was doing in Danny’s room. Her smile grows wide, deepening the harsh laugh lines and crow’s feet that, even still, can’t hide her beauty.
    â€œI’m Lynette,” she says as we straighten up. “My son is in this room.”
    What? Her son? “Oh! He must be my brother’s roommate. My brother is Danny. He was sleeping when I left. I better go check on him.”
    â€œAll’s quiet as a church mouse in there. Wesley is just readin’ anyway. I told him to keep down his TV and music too while that little boy is sleepin’. You’d think they’d be all private rooms by now, but no.” She blows a puff of breath into her bangs. “Anyway, I’ll be back in a bit. I’ll see you soon.”
    â€œUm, sure. Yeah. See you soon.”
    â€œWhat’s your name, honey?”
    â€œJasmine. I’m Jasmine.” I shake the hand she has outstretched and nod toward the room. “Well, I better get back.”
    â€œOf course, see you around.” And with that, Lynette turns on her heel and sashays down the hall in a cloud of flowery perfume.
    I peek into my room, hoping Danny is still resting. The chairs at the foot of his bed are still unoccupied. Where did Mom gofor that coffee? Pennsylvania? Good thing they don’t have a bar in the hospital. I snort at my own joke, not even because it’s funny, but because I’m too exhausted to think past the sad reality that she probably really would do something like that if she could.
    I walk quietly into the room, eyes darting to the bed next to Danny’s to see who Lynette’s superhero-loving son is. I brace myself for the inevitable little kid onslaught of questions. For some reason, kids gravitate to me like I’m a camp counselor or kindergarten teacher or something.
    But the boy lying on the bed next to Danny’s is a teenager. A relatively
cute
teenager, too, I notice, though I only get a side eye view as I cross the room. He looks up from something he’s reading, probably one of those comic books, I bet, and shakes his head to throw shaggy, dirty-blond hair out of his eyes. His gaze locks on me.
    I don’t want to be rude, so I give a small wave. “Hi,” I whisper.
    His head tilts slightly as he considers me. He gives a hello nod back and our eyes meet for just a second. There’s a sense of humor in his, but he drops them back to his book quickly,