Page 64 of My Little Doe
He grabbed my wrist before I stepped off the mat. I turned my head to look at him. My eyes locked onto his amber eyes. Something rolled through my stomach.
“Don’t call me that,” he said, before letting go.
I dropped my eyes and walked quickly inside. I grabbed clothes from my room and went into the bathroom. I stopped in front of the sink and looked into the mirror, staring at my own reflection.
“Get it together, Zalayuh,” I whispered to myself.
Once I came out of the bathroom, he went in behind me, taking his own shower. I grabbed my journal from my room and sat at the table. I journaled a lot as a teenager. Writing had always been therapeutic for me. I started writing about when I was captured. I wrote out all the details I remembered. I expected to cry as I wrote,but I didn’t. It felt easy. Maybe beating him really was the answer to the anger I was holding onto.
Quinn finally made his way out of the bathroom. He wore jeans and a button-down flannel. Handsome. Nope. I didn’t like him, remember.
“I have a question for you, and it’s completely up to you,” he said.
“I’m listening…” I said.
“We can either have supper here, or we can go to my Titi’s house for a big family supper. I’m okay with what—”
“Let’s go to her house,” I said, cutting him off.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“You deserve to spend time with your family,” I said.
“There will be a lot of people there, and it’s okay if that’s too much,” he said.
“I actually think it’s exactly what I—we need,” I said.
“We don’t need to leave for a little bit.”
“Alright,” I said.
I was nervous about being around a bunch of people, but I kept telling myself that we both needed it. He needed to be around his family. I needed the distraction—from him, Aspen, and Izayuh. My mind went back to Aspen. I wondered what she got for Christmas.
“Do you think I could call my family?” It came out of my mouth before I was even sure I wanted to ask.
“That’s up to you. Honestly, surprised you haven’t already done it or asked.”
“Well, I wasn’t sure what to say or even if I should call them.”
“I can’t answer that for you.”
“You had all the answers for me before,” I shot out.
“Zay…” he said low.
“What if it gets out to Ravik?”
“Um… well, that’s the risk we take if you call,” he said.
“You’re not helping!”
“Well, I won’t tell you not to call your family. It’s Christmas, but if you do, maybe don’t tell them everything…”
“Okay… I’ll call.” I looked at the clock, and it was already after twelve. They would be well awake and probably cooking lunch.
I walked to the phone and dialed home. Nausea crept up my throat. It rang once. More nausea. Rang again. I almost hung up.
“Hello,” my mother said. Nothing came out of my mouth. I stood frozen, with the phone pressed to my ear.
