Going 78 Miles Per Hour | ✓

65 | After A Crash

DOMINGO
1:38 PM

Dahlia Gray

I stir to the laughter that floats through the apartment, finding its way through the cracks of my bedroom.

It didn't help that, when I woke up, my body was sore in all the right places and there's a still-subtle twitch between my legs that I can't get rid of. I thought it would go away after last night, but it stayed—faint, but presence.

Another chord of laughter strikes outside my door, causing my head to twist to the source. Though I couldn't see them, I can hear the vague masculine sound cascading through the apartment with the accompaniment of low-volume Latin music and the cracks of oil on a hot pan. I knew one had to be my mother—but the other, I wasn't quite sure.

Turning, I find Harlow's side completely vacant. The sheets are wrinkled, providing evidence to his existence and everything that has happened in the last twelve hours wasn't a wet dream. And if it was—that still doesn't explain the shake in my legs.

I drag them over the edge of the mattress and plop my feet to the floor, my body aching with each stretch and everything inside of me is screaming to stay in bed.

I should, especially since last night was my very first time and my body is still processing everything, but I'm curious. I want to know what's going on outside of my door, where's my boyfriend, and what's my mother cooking.

Something caught my eye when I stood from my bed and I glanced down at the nightstand to find a water bottle and a bottle of Advil. It didn't have a note, but I knew exactly who it's from.

I don't take the pills, however. Instead, I head over to the closest to throw on a lengthy tee and exit outside, ignoring the sore between my legs with each step forward.

I step into the hallway to spot Harlow, leaning against the island, shirtless with a pair of sweats hanging loosely on his hips. I stop in my tracks to admire the sight: the way his mouth curves into a smile as he looks upon—who I believe to be my mother—and the faint red scratches on the broad of his shoulders.

When my mother spoke in Spanish, he responded back.

I blink back in surprise and my jaw drops. It took a few seconds to gather myself and when I did, I took daring steps towards the open floor plan, not caring if I'm interrupting something.

Harlow must've sensed my presence because he turns to face me, sharing a subtle adorning gaze before pushing himself off the island, offering me the barstool he stood in front of.

I wanted to say something—to ask him how long he has known Spanish, to question his integrity of whether or not he knew the language the entire time and let me be a babbling mess in front of him—but none of those questions rouse on my command. Instead, I was soothed by the placement of his hand on my lower back, and he sank down to my level, lips brushing against the lobe of my ear, "how are you feeling? Are you okay?"

Everything withered away, and my lips close to a shut, offering a mere nod at his concern. His gaze watches me carefully, storm eyes drifting down to every pool of my expression, before he nods to himself, turning back to my mother with her back to us. "Está despierta." She's awake.

My mother turns to face me, and I resist the urge to push Harlow away from me, demand an answer about his linguistics—because every touch from him is making my skin crawl in sensitivity and neutralizing my control—and ask how long has he known Spanish, but the look in my mother's eyes gave me another worry to think about.

The fact that I'm dressed in a long tee, with wild hair—that, despite the natural condition of my mane, is not—and how Harlow has scratch marks traveling down his shoulders.

I am in trouble.

I open my mouth and a flood of thoughts came to me—wanting to scold Harlow for not wearing a shirt and covering up, to begging my mother for her forgiveness, and I even contemplated lying about what happened last night—but before I even make a sound, she holds up her palm, the hand holding the spatula.

"Te llevaré al consultorio del doctor hoy," I'm taking you to the doctor's office today, she begins, sparing a glance to the boy beside me, "Vas a tener anticonceptivos." You're going on birth control.

I know I should be embarrassed, talking about contraception in front of my boyfriend, especially after our first night, but I was more caught up on the fact that my mother hasn't pulled the chancla off her foot and hurled it across the island.

She takes my moment of silence as compliance and turns back to the stove, the fresh aroma of seasoning carries through the air. I'm stunned.

"¿Eso es todo?" That's it?

"¿Qué más quieres que te diga?" What else do you want me to say?

I stare at her, with her back turned to me, and feel a pang of guilt. I know I shouldn't—I should be thrilled to hear my mother isn't going to scold me about pre-martial sex, but she's my mother. The woman who boasts about the words of God, who's only act of defiance is sneaking out to attend church. I expected more.

"Mami," I begin, flattening the back of my hands on the granite. "Esperaba más. Pensé que me ibas a gritar, regañarme, usar un cinturón o algo así—¿por qué estás tan bien con esto?" I expected more. I thought you were going to yell at me, scold me, use a belt or something—why are you so cool about this?

She sighs, but doesn't turn around. "Yo no," I'm not, she answers, causing my body to go rigid. "De hecho, estoy decepcionado de saber esto," In fact, I'm disappointed to know this, a frown takes my face, "Pero sé que no puedo controlar lo que pasa en tu habitación, especialmente porque ustedes dos están compartiendo. Lo más que puedo hacer es asegurarse de que estás a salvo." But I know I can't control what goes on in your bedroom, especially since you two are sharing. The most I can do is make sure you're safe.

She pauses, before adding, "Y no embarazada." And not pregnant.

a/n: i know i don't this a lot - but this is a filler chapter. i have been stuck on it for over a month, and this is the best im going to get. dw, in the next chapter, we will get a harlow and the family chapter :)