Beautiful Decay by Sylvia Lewis

Author:Sylvia Lewis [Lewis, Sylvia]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: Fantasy, Romance, Young Adult, (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
ISBN: 9780762446117
Publisher: Running Press Kids
Published: 2013-03-31T13:00:00+00:00

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B E A U T I F U L D E C A Y

loyalty, what could I say to that? They’re doing the best they can?

Not everybody is like you?

“You need me and my germs to go away for a bit, let you get it together?”

I took a deep, shaky breath. “No, I think I’m okay.” I shoved my hair behind my ears and made myself look up. “There are Band-Aids and gauze and stuff in the hall closet, if you wanna clean that up?” I nodded toward the mass of bandages on his jaw.

“Yeah, that’s the plan, huh?” Nate said, wincing again. “Really not looking forward to that. I don’t suppose we can pilfer some vodka first?”

“Uh—”

“Kidding,” Nate rushed to say.

“No, you weren’t.” I retorted.

“Okay, no, I wasn’t,” he admitted. “But probably not a good idea. Let’s go get the Band-Aids and stuff, get this over with.”

We ended up in my bathroom. Nate stood at the sink with a heap of first-aid supplies on the counter in front of him. I sat on the toilet lid, trying to hold myself together.

Nate had taken his shirt off to avoid getting it wet. He faced the mirror over the sink, his back to me. It let me see far too much of him. He was too thin, all ropey muscles and the sharp outline of ribs. His entire torso was bruised and scratched, and they weren’t little bruises—these were huge, ugly, red-purple things that made 160

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S Y L V I A L E W I S

me wonder if he’d broken some of those too-visible ribs.

He hadn’t looked at me since the shirt went over his head. I hadn’t said anything. I could see the muscles of his back move as he arranged things on the counter—ripped open a packet of gauze, squirted a bit of the surgical soap into a cup full of hot water. He was taking his time, delaying the inevitable.

Even with him looking so beat-up and pitiful, some part of me wanted to reach out and trace the line of his spine, to feel the tense muscles of his bony shoulders move under my fingertips. I kept my hands on my knees, ignoring him, ignoring my itching fingers.

Nate hissed as he began pulling the bandages away from his face. I stared hard at his discarded shirt, lying in a heap on the floor by my feet. The uncovered wound smelled, a sour-sweet smell like spoiled meat—not a good sign. It made me feel sick and a little light-headed, but it also pushed the pins-and-needles burning in my fingers from distractingly uncomfortable into downright agonizing. I was sweating. I could taste it at the back of my throat, cloying and enervating, making the hairs on my arms stand on end.

I heard him drop the old bandages into the trash can. The soap solution made a sloshing sound as he swirled a gauze pad through it. Nate breathed, too fast and too shallow, as he brought the gauze to his face.

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