Ultraviolet ✔️

15.1

Chapter Fifteen

As much as I want to dive back into my daily routine, it's nearly impossible. My breathing isn't quite what it normally is, and everything down to swallowing some water to take my pills with is a challenge. Betsy helps as much as she can between her shifts at work. I refuse to let it get to me, and even though I've gotten an extension from my professors, I'm determined to get all my assignments done on time.

Joel's worried about me. He checks in, but his time with me face to face is limited by a new case he has. Since I'm not involved, he can't tell me much about it. It would be nice to help them finish the investigation, but Chief won't let me near H2 until I'm feeling better. He's probably going to lecture me when I return, and I'm not looking forward to that.

The bright side of being cooped up is that I can't have any visions. It's weird, getting through a day without at least one. I like it, even though I know I'm not helping anyone by hiding away.

The first thing I do when I wake up Friday morning is reach for my phone, almost instinctively. I'm not checking for the chief expecting a new murder suspect to be a described, but instead for Joel. I'm not afraid when it rings anymore. I'm happy because it's not always something bad waiting on the other end of the line.

Admittedly though, I'm worried about Joel. He seems different.

The chief says it's normal. When he came by to visit, Chief explained that Joel had to make a tough decision and that most officers look and feel the way he does after having to kill someone, criminal or not. I still worry. He's not sleeping well with the added weight on his shoulders. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy, let alone him.

I'm hoping tonight will cheer him up, even if it's a bit out of my comfort zone.

Betsy gets home from the graveyard not ten minutes after I brush my teeth and get dressed. As she drops her coat in a heap on the floor, I walk over to the kettle and start working on her tea. I've learned to read people well from my psych classes, and there's every indication that she's had a rough day.

"I don't deserve you, Vi," she says as I hand her a mug. When she settles on a bad reality TV show to watch, I don't bother complaining and just listen as she vents about rude customers, men groping at her, and every other horror story that seems to occur weekly.

"I noticed Joel was over last night." She raises an eyebrow. "Care to explain?"

While I understand the implication, I still play dumb. I figure it's better to pretend that I have no idea what she's talking about than have her not believe the truth. The truth is that he didn't want me to be alone after I returned from the hospital. I didn't even have to tell him that I was scared of what I might see when I closed my eyes.

He stayed with me until I fell asleep. That was it.

Naturally, Betsy doesn't let it go. She relentlessly pushes for details until I finally cave.

"We grabbed food, hung out in my room and just talked. But we didn't have sex," I tell her. "I don't know him well enough."

"You know," she begins, sipping from her mug and peering at me over the rim of it. "You don't have to know someone well to have sex with them."

"Betsy—"

"I'm just saying. I'll drop it now."

Another thing to love about Betsy? She knows the limits I have when it comes to matters of my personal life.

Joel texts me later that evening, and I try to play it cool as I grab my phone. Betsy still notices right away, waiting expectantly for me to fill her in.