Page 36 of Quake
"Goddamn it," I groan, working to pull the fridge out from the wall, thankful that it isn't heavier.
Hanging just barely out of the wall is the plug. The plug that apparently decided the connection between itself and the wall wasnotstrong enough to hold on any longer.Much like mine and Tyler's. What an unfortunate yet fitting metaphor.
Amidst my mental breakdown, my phone pings with a text.
Daddy-O
You still coming to the game today, little bird?
Yeah, just some technical difficulties, but I'll be there just as soon as I stop at the office! Love you, see you soon.
Daddy-O
Alright… Let me know if you need me, okay?
Always.
Apparently, we’re lying today, Lark?Maybe he’s right.MaybeI really do need to quit with my unrelenting need for independence.
Daddy-O
Love you, kid.
Alright, the clinic isn't too far from here, but it's in the opposite direction of the stadium. Though I don't really have much choice, do I?
"Come on, Tiny. We’ve gotta get going," I tell him, waving at Rex before we make the run to my car.
As soon as we pull into the parking lot of Toute la Famille, I hop out, leaving the car running for Tiny, who's blissfully unaware of my internal panic as I make a mad dash inside.
"Hey, Lark! You don't work today, do you?" Betty asks me from behind the counter.
"No, I'm on my way to meet my dad at the game, but my new fridge wasn't plugged in properly, so my insulin went bad overnight." I groan loudly.
Her face twists. “I’m sorry, Lark. Is there anything I can do to help?”
"No, don’t worry about it. I wasjust gonna grab my backup stash from the fridge in my office," I explain as I rush back there.
Popping the door to the small fridge open, I grab for the only vial in here, and my heart sinks to my stomach at the sight. I've fucked up.Again.
There'smaybehalf a dose left in this tiny vial of short-acting insulin, but it'll have to do.
You need to get a fucking pump, Lark.
There’s a pounding in my temples.I should’ve just used the warm insulin.It might not be as effective, but I’d have been able to get a full dose. Hindsight’s twenty-twenty though.
At least I hadn't eaten anything yet. Of course this would happen on a Sunday when I'm due to change my damn continuous glucose monitor anyway, and of course, I forgot to put a new one on when I took the other off. My dead fridge has officially thrown off my entire day.
"No use in whining about it now. I'll just inject what I've got and call the pharmacy on the way to the game," I whisper to myself, preparing the syringe.
After disposing of the sharp, I run back to the front, waving at Betty as I go.
"Alright, Tiny, we're cookin' with gas here!" Her big, speckled head peers up from her seat in the back before she settles back in for the drive.
***
Werush along the side of the field, heading toward the bench my dad is always hovering by. He may own the team, but he's far more involved than most of these executives. He genuinely loves soccer and adores this team. And as it turns out, the coach is his best friend.
When he spots me, his arms open wide for me to step into him. He presses a kiss to my head. "Hey, little bird. What were those technical difficulties you speak of?"