“What’d she tell you?”
“To bring these.” Sugar removes a stack of clothes from her satchel, hands steady like she’s balancing glass, and places them on the desk. They are immaculately folded in plastic sleeves. No creases. No fuzzy shit.
“What the fuck are those?”
“She said they were yours.”
Before I join Sugar, I look through the glass on the door again. The cameraman slides himself down the wall and stares at the anchor-man’s stool. Kick it. I can see it on his face. He wants to.
He tucks his leg underneath him. Coward.
“I’ve never seen those before in my life,” I say without looking at the clothes.
Sugar removes them from their sleeves and pushes them closer to me.
A baby blue cashmere sweater with a white button down and dark brown slacks. Leather shoes. “You’re joking.”
She shrugs. “Anything is better than those hospital sweats.”
“Even these?” I pinch the cashmere.
“Even these.”
Chapter 5.1, now up on Wattpad!
Click here to read it.
sandpapertongue 