Veil of Scars by J. R. Gray Read Free Book Online

if I could hide from the shame.

 
    Chapter Six
     
    I slept off and on, thrashing around my bed until I was tangled in the sheets and glistening with sweat. I got up as the sun peeked over the campus buildings shining its first light into my room. I kicked off the jeans I’d fallen into bed in and pulled on a soft pair of flannel pants, skipping a shirt. I shuffled out of my room and stopped in my tracks when I saw Char standing in the kitchen, setting a pot of water for tea on the stove.
    She turned before I could escape her view and offered me a shy smile, tucking her hair behind her ear. She had bits of foundation and eyeliner smudged in place by her pillow.
    "Good morning," she said softly, her volume telling me Sam was still asleep. "Do you want a cup of tea?”
    What I wanted was to hide, but I padded across the room anyway and got two mugs out of the cupboard. "Sure."
    Her grin grew as I got out the big container of tea. The box was hand carved, and she’d gotten it from her grandmother. I’d seen it for the first time when she’d had me over to her house in high school about a month after Valentine’s Day. Her father had a fancy espresso machine, and she'd offered to make me a cup, but I told her I didn't care for coffee and preferred tea. To my surprise, she didn’t laugh but told me she felt the same. She'd gotten out her grandmother's box, and it was chock full of every kind of tea imaginable. I just kept flipping through the teabags, unable to decide on which one I wanted. She laughed at the time and picked one for us both. It kind of became a tradition. We spent the next few years trying a different variety whenever we were alone. The smile our “tea time” had given her back then was like the one she wore now.
    I'd never told her why coffee turned my stomach. Maybe I never would, but the smell of the drink took me right back to how my father used to “sober” up with the stuff, how his breath smelled when he got near.
    I sat up on the counter as she took the kettle off the stove. She handed me the box, and I skimmed my fingers through the different colored bags, stopping at one labeled “calming”. She poured steaming water into our oversized university mugs then grabbed the sugar. I didn't add any to mine, but she added three heaping tablespoons to hers and then a bag of black peach tea. The aroma of the two mingled in the air. She picked up her cup, holding it in both hands as she leaned against the counter and sipped. I picked mine up and rested it on one knee to let it cool, not wanting to scald my tongue.
    "You know it's not just about sex for me, right?”
    My gaze darted up to hers. It took a lot of control not to drop my mouth open and stammer the first thing that came to mind. I swallowed hard then spoke, "What do you mean?"
    She looked down at her cup then back up at me. "I've never told him this, or you, but I liked you first."
    Memories of that first year of dinners at her house, Valentine’s Day, and all the little gestures I had never read into hit me. I saw them in a light I’d never let myself consider. There was nothing I could do to stop it. My mug went crashing to the floor and shattered into pieces. Charlie gasped and jumped back, spilling tea all over herself.
    "Shit, I'm sorry." I jumped down to help. Pain lanced through my foot and spiked up my leg. I fell to my ass, feeling tiny pieces of glass imbedded in the sole of my foot. I slammed a hand over my mouth before I could howl out in agony.
    "Don't move. Let me go get you shoes and wake Sam to help."
    I shook my head vigorously as I bit back the pain. "Don't wake him up. Please. I'm enough of a mess. I don't want him to see me like this."
    She nodded, carefully stepping out of the kitchen and going to my room. She returned with a pair of my slippers on and helped me into the sandals. She gave me her hand, navigating me away from the mess.
    Blood poured from my foot, and I had to keep my weight off the heel. Once I was