Julian (Beautiful Mine #1) (3 page)

JULIAN

I loved to sleep. Sleep was my escape. Sometimes I slept all day long, forgetting to eat or shower. My days all blended together, one into another. They were all the same. Breakfast. Bathe. Watch the T.V. or read the news. Maybe play a video game. Maybe read a book.

Eat. Sleep. Repeat.

My sickness had not only defined me—it had become me. Everything I did revolved around it. For years, my mother had ingrained my fragility into my head.

“He can’t go to school with regular kids,” she would say to my father. “What if he were to get sick? We can’t handle a sickness on top of a sickness. He’s too delicate.”

“Julian, you’d better stay home,” my father would say when they would pack their suitcases for one of their extravagant vacations. “Too many germs on airplanes. Too much walking and pollution in the big cities. Eleanor will take good care of you. We got you that new video game you’d been asking for.”

I was a pet. A responsibility. An inconvenience. They paid people to watch me, as if I couldn’t handle being alone for two seconds. Even at twenty-four, they still insisted I needed around-the-clock care.

The truth was I could do things for myself, but after years of my own parents not giving two real shits about me, it was nice being waited on hand and foot. It was nice being cared for, even if that person was being paid to do so.

A light rapping on my door pulled me out of my sweet slumber, my sweet escape. I lived my life in black and white most days, but my dreams were always in color.

I dreamt of things like traveling the world, living my life outside those four walls, venturing into the great unknown, burying my toes into real sand and smelling the breeze that drifted in off the ocean at sunset. I dreamt of climbing mountains, hiking forests filled with thousands of California Red Woods, blending in amongst the thousands of tourists in Times Square, and falling in love.

“Julian,” she said quietly as the door slowly swung open. Her tone was sweet and soft, unlike Eleanor, who would burst into my door yelling, “Rise and shine!” at seven o’clock on the dot every morning. “Time to wake up.”

I rolled over toward the sound of her voice and opened one eye before sitting up halfway out of habit, waiting for her to fluff my pillows. And as if she were some sort of mind reader, she sat the tray of food she was carrying down and propped a bunch of pillows up behind my back.

“So, breakfast in bed everyday, huh?” she said. “Must be nice.”

I stared up at her, trying to figure her out. I hadn’t been around a girl my age since my cousins from Washington used to come visit. She grabbed the tray and positioned it over my lap.

Not hungry, but not wanting to be rude, I forked some eggs and placed a small bite into my mouth. They were ice cold.

“These are cold,” I said to her, choking down the bite.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, reaching for the plate. “I cooked them first, and they got done before the toast. I was hoping they wouldn’t cool off too quickly. I’m so sorry. I can reheat them for you.”

“Yes,” I replied, almost testing her. “Reheat them.”

She began to carry the plate away, obeying me like a dutiful little servant.

“Never mind,” I said. “I’ll eat them. Just remember in the future that I don’t like cold eggs.”

She sat the plate back down and pulled out a small stack of papers that had been rolled up in her back pocket. Leave it to my mother to write her a manual on how to care for me, as if I were too sick to be able to communicate with her myself.

“Okay, so it looks like once you’re done eating, you have to take two of the yellow pills and one of the blue pills.” Her eyes scanned the list. “And I’ll get your nebulizer started.”

“Well aware of the routine,” I replied.

“I’m just trying to familiarize myself,” she said meekly, as if I’d insulted her. “I know you’ve been doing this your entire life, but I’m new here.”

I stared straight ahead at the wall as I choked down a little bit more of my breakfast. Cold eggs and lightly buttered wheat toast. Delicious.

“So, you really liked Eleanor, huh?” she asked. This girl couldn’t go two seconds without talking. At least she had a pretty voice, sweet and soft with a hint of tenderness.

“You talk a lot,” I said. I tended to be blunt and honest. It was better she knew that from the get-go. “Eleanor didn’t really talk much.”

“Oh,” Evie said, disappointed. “I’m just trying to get to know you. I don’t mean to be annoying. I figured we’re going to be spending a lot of time together, so we should probably get to know each other.”

“I guess.”

“What’s the itinerary for today?” she asked, perching herself at the foot of my bed.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“What are we doing today?”

“I usually just hang out in here…”

“In your room?” she asked. “All day long?”

“I’ve more than enough to keep me busy.”

“Your home is amazing, Julian,” she said, my name slipping off her sweet lips so casually. No one had ever said my name the way she did, slow and with intention. “Why would you just stay in here all day? Don’t you have an English garden? A library? A movie theater?”

I picked up the breakfast tray and sat it next to me to signal to her that I was finished. It was quite obvious that I’d barely touched most of it, but at least I’d tried. I flipped the covers back and placed one foot on the cold hardwood floor, followed by the other. My satin pajamas hung off my body, and in that moment, I hated myself for being so weak.

The man on the outside did not match the man on the inside. It never had.

I stood up, walking toward her and keeping one hand on the bed to steady myself. “It’s difficult for me to get around this house. I have everything I need right here.”

“I see that,” she said, studying me as I moved. “Where are you going?”

“The bathroom,” I snipped. “Is that okay with you?”

Evie said nothing as she gathered my breakfast tray and carried it out of the room. By the time she returned, I was back in my bed, freshened up with the laptop on and the T.V. glowing on mute in the background.

“Is this what your mornings are usually like?” she asked as she returned, barging into my room. Eleanor at least had the decency to knock each time. She took a seat on the edge of the bed again. “Sorry. I’m probably asking too many questions.”

“Evie,” I said sternly. “Why don’t you go find something to do, and then come back in a few hours when I need my medication and percussion therapy, okay?”

I reached over for my nebulizer in an attempt to show her that I wasn’t a baby. I could do things for myself.

“Um, okay,” she said, slowly standing up. “I’ll be in my room, then. Call me on the intercom when you need me.”

She sauntered over to the door, lingering as if she wanted to say something more, and then left the room. My eyes returned to the computer screen in front of me, but the words began to jumble and blur together. I couldn’t concentrate, not with her in the next room over. She intrigued me with her eagerness to please and the way she did absolutely anything I asked, no questions.

I reached over to the bedside table and pressed the intercom button. Within thirty seconds she was back, standing in my doorway.

“Yes?” she asked, her big, blue eyes round as saucers as she awaited my instructions.

“Can you hand me that controller over there?” I asked, pointing to the console by the T.V. across the room.

She retrieved it for me without saying a word and then went to leave the room.

“Wait,” I called out. “Would you like to play? Sometimes it’s fun to have a little competition.”

She turned, hesitating a bit before grabbing the second controller. “Sure. What are we playing?”

The game started up on the screen.

“Oh, is this where you shoot zombies?” she asked. She sounded excited, as if she were familiar with it. “I used to play this with my ex. It was the only way I could get him to spend time with me, some days.”

“Why’d you two break up?” I pried, my eyes scanning over to the side nonchalantly as I realized she was actually quite attractive. Her nose came to a perfect point and her dark lashes fanned out from her deep-set eyes.

She opened her mouth, then paused before drawing in a long breath. “He cheated on me.”

“His loss,” I replied as my fingers danced around the controller, clicking buttons. I glanced up at my points in the corner of the screen. I was way off my game.

“Thank you,” Evie replied sweetly. “I’ll be honest. I miss him sometimes.”

“Why would you miss someone that cheated on you?” I said, nose scrunched.

“He was my first love,” she said, her voice a near whisper. “You always love your first love.”

“I wouldn’t know,” I said, not attempting to hide the sour bite of my words.

“Someday, you will,” Evie said, turning to offer me a kind smile. I couldn’t wrap my head around why she was so nice to me. I’d been barking orders at her since the second she barged in with that God-awful breakfast, and she’d been nothing but sweet and kind to me all morning. I didn’t deserve her kindness, and I knew it.

“I’m going to go back to bed now,” I announced after several minutes of nothing but clicking buttons filling the space between us.

“So soon?” she objected. “You’ve only been up a couple hours.”

“I tire easily,” I said, stopping the game and tossing the controller aside. “Wake me up around noon for my meds. Don’t be late. I like to watch the news.”

Evie climbed off the bed slowly, once again obeying my every whim. Eleanor didn’t put up with me bossing her around. She’d put a stop to that early on. I almost felt guilty, but I wanted to push her to see how much she would take, to see if she really did care about me or if I was nothing more than a paycheck to her.

Evie left the room and closed the door, and I drew the covers up over my head. I wasn’t tired. I didn’t know why I’d kicked her out of the room. I was actually starting to enjoy her company.

I pulled myself out from under the covers and carefully headed toward the bathroom. I braced myself on the edge of the claw foot tub and began to run myself a hot bath. Slipping off my pajamas and slowly climbing in, I sunk back and rested my head as the steamy air warmed my heavy lungs. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep for a bit, and I awoke when I heard her calling my name from the other side of the door.

“Julian?”

“I’m in here,” I yelled out. “Don’t come in. I’m indisposed.”

“Okay,” she said from the other side of the door. “I’ll just be right out here, if you need anything.”

I sat up, quickly realizing my hot bath had become barely lukewarm. I clenched my jaw and gritted my teeth. “I need my hair washed.”

In seconds, Evie gently opened the door and I drew myself up, wrapping my arms around my knees. She knelt down and grabbed a cup from the window ledge and filled it with bathwater.

“Lean your head back,” she said as she saturated my hair. I imagined it was awkward for her to be bathing a grown man, but it was even more awkward for me to be bathed by someone as pretty and as young as her.

She squeezed a small amount of shampoo into her palm and rubbed her hands together before running her fingers over my head and massaging it into my scalp.

“You have an amazing head of hair, Julian,” she said, amused. “Seriously. So thick and lush. I’d kill for this hair.”

“You’re just trying to make this situation less awkward, but it’s not helping,” I told her. I couldn’t make eye contact with her.

She said nothing more as she rinsed the shampoo from my hair.

“I’ll need help getting out,” I said begrudgingly. “Grab that towel over there and keep your eyes up.”

She stood up. “Listen, I’m a nurse. There’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“I don’t care. I don’t know you. Just hand me the towel.” I hated, absolutely hated that this was the way it had to be. My face burned with molten embarrassment, and it was right then and there that I swore to myself to regain my independence no matter what it took. I never wanted to feel this way again. Ever.

With a fluffy white towel under one arm, she leaned down and helped me up, keeping her eyes on the wall ahead of us. She handed me the towel, and I swiftly wrapped it around my waist, securing it tight.

“I need you to bring me my outfit for the day,” I instructed. “Eleanor would lay one out each morning.”

“What do you like to wear?”

“Something comfortable,” I replied as she headed across the room to my closet. I watched as she opened the closet doors and saw that my wardrobe mainly consisted of sweat pants, t-shirts, and matching satin pajamas.

“Don’t you have jeans, or anything?” she asked.

“Who would lie around all day in jeans?” I scoffed. “I prefer to be comfortable.”

She returned with a clean white t-shirt, red, plaid boxers, and a pair of navy blue sweat pants. The girl wanted to dress me like an American flag. “Here you are.”

I yanked them from her hands and shut the bathroom door in her face, taking my frustration out on her. I wasn’t mad at her. I was mad at the situation. I took my time getting dressed and carefully styled my hair, slicking it over with brill cream and a side part. I liked to look clean and put together, even if I was lounging around in sweats all day.