Morning Shift

Heartbreak

Nicky hadn't left the comfort of his bed the entire morning.

He didn't feel well enough to roll himself out of bed the Sunday morning after his not-so-successful confession, so he sat in his Superman boxers rolled up in six blankets that kept his arms stuck at his sides like a straight jacket. Noah was down stairs with his parents and the others, so he was left alone in their room with all the blinds closed and only the light coming from the laptop on his belly to brighten up the place.

He tore his eyes away from where they'd sat stationary on the same part of the screen for what felt like days and looked at the clock.

1:47 PM

It wasn't as late as he hoped it was. If he was being honest, he wished that day would pass by in a blur so he could throw himself back into his schoolwork on Monday and forget about Jonah.

Jonah.

Nicky felt like throwing up again. He had looked up his symptoms earlier, hoping it was a just a cold. Turns out, having the feeling of a pit in your stomach and the inability to breathe pointed to two things: pregnancy and guilt. He was almost positive it wasn't the former.

He groaned and finally untangled himself from his blanket burrito, letting the cold nip at his skin as he lay sprawled out on the bed.

He felt awful. He knew he messed up. Nicky was never one to admit he was in the wrong, but this time he knew it, and he wished he didn't.

Why was he so afraid of something going good in his life for once? For once he had someone to like, and that person liked him back, and it was all good.

He groaned and rolled over onto his stomach, shoving his face into his pillow. He wanted to drown out every noise, every thought, every indication of Jonah, and forget so things could go back to the way they were before he met him: comfortably mediocre.

His door slowly creaked open, but he ignored it, knowing it was just one of his siblings coming to annoy him. "Jesus, Dots. Put some pants on," Nahla cringed.

"Shut up," he retorted weakly, his voice muffled by the pillow his head was buried in. "Who cares?"

"I do. Superman, Nicky? Real classy."

Nicky's head shot up at the familiarly snide voice and when he saw who was standing in the doorway with crossed arms and a popped hip, he cursed and sat up, throwing a blanket over his waist. "Priya? What the hell are you doing here?!"

Priya cocked an eyebrow. "You really think I wouldn't get the details of your little confession out of Jonah?"

From behind her, Nahla gasped. "Jonah Moshe? I called it!" She tossed the end of her baby blue hijab over her shoulder with a smirk and then ran downstairs, shouting, "Naveen! I totally called it!"

Priya shut the door behind her and walked over to his bed, looking like she was overflowing with animosity as she told him, "you majorly fucked up."

He didn't say anything, choosing to look at his feet instead. He felt like throwing up again.

"You told me you wouldn't do anything shitty to him. You promised me that if I stopped pushing you two apart, you'd treat him right. But what did you do? You went and messed with his feelings, knowing full well he never gets a break from that kind of stuff during the day," she snapped, jabbing an accusing finger into his chest.