alright?"

With her wide, anxious eyes, Riley didn't attempt to mask her concern.

However, Jake and Jamie did, sitting awkwardly at the circular table in the corner of our room. Their discussion was low and casual. But now and then, Jake would cast an uncomfortable look my way.

I understood the reaction. I looked like I'd survived an exorcism—matted hair, sweaty brow, rumpled bedsheets, and all. Searing pain ripped through my lower abdomen and back, rendering me immobilised supine on the bed. Fuck endo. I hated it. The first three days of spring break in Panama City had been fantastic, full of suntanning and sightseeing. Then Bloody Mary struck.

Emphasis on the bloody.

The four of us had booked only one room with two double beds for five nights. Riley and I shared one, and Jake and Jamie shared the other. It was a tight squeeze, and we'd grizzled at each other, but it was the best we could do on our budget.

Being in San Diego with her girlfriends precluded Jamie from inviting Farrah, and thank goodness Krista and Quentin went to visit her brother in Texas. Any more people in such close confines would have driven me crazy.

"Yes," I told Riley. "I'll be fine. Go. I've dealt with this countless times."

We had intended to visit the aquarium today; the sea life centre was within walking distance of our cheap inn. But I couldn't take two steps without stooping over, and apparently, Jamie harboured a moral opposition to confined marine animals.

And he'd conveniently volunteered to stay with me.

While I appreciated where our friendship was at the moment, I didn't need a guardian. No matter how bad these cramps became, they always passed. There was no reason for Jamie to miss out on a day of touristy fun. But, glimpsing his tense posture and crossed arms at the coffee table, I instantly knew he wouldn't budge. Stubborn numbnuts.

Riley shouldered her backpack and pulled on a cap, her voluminous braids peeking out behind each ear. "Either of you text me if you need anything. Anything at all, and we can get it for you."

"Will do, Riley," Jamie chirped.

"Thank you, Riley," I wheezed, unable to even lift a hand to wave. "Love you."

Jake bid us a similarly worried farewell before following Riley out of the door.

As soon as we were alone, I shot Jamie an arch expression. "You're not morally opposed to aquariums. You eat fish."

He rolled his eyes and rose from the table. My eyes trailed his hand as it gripped the edge of the duvet covering me. Underneath I wore a WISA t-shirt three sizes too large and cotton shorts. Still, the idea of Jamie tearing the sheets off sent a shiver down my spine.

"Get up," he said, tugging once on the duvet.

"Gee, if I could, I would," I hissed. "But I'm incapacitated right now."

"Then get up slowly. I know you," he chuckled. "Lying still is going to make this worse. Why don't you come to do yoga with me next to the window?"

I followed Jamie's glance to the left. The inn was neither clean nor dirty, fancy nor dilapidated. But, man, it had prime real estate. Past the full-size window—which was really a glass sliding door—lay a thin balcony with a small cactus in the corner, and past that lay miles and miles of white-sand beaches.

The bright sunlight that poured into the room mocked me, hinting at the freedom and fun I'd lost.

I turned my gaze back to Jamie. "Do yoga? With you?"

His expression was mockingly indignant. "What is that tone for?"

"You don't do yoga."

"Yes, but I've had to stretch for football," he reasoned. "I'm in peak shape. And you're bent over like an old lady right now, so with my inexperience and your condition, we'll be at the exact same level."

I narrowed my eyes at the man, immovable at the foot of the bed. But I wasn't really mad or insulted. In fact, I appreciated how Jamie hadn't baulked at my endometriosis symptoms. Jake, bless him, was sweet and caring, but he'd reacted to an incapacitated menstruating woman much how I expected. The uncertainty—the sympathy—that had tremored in his eyes was not present in Jamie's.

He arched his eyebrows, jaw tensing impatiently. "Get out of the bed, Viv. Or do I have to carry you like a baby?"

"Ugh," I moaned, slowly throwing the duvet off me. "You're ruining my spring break. Just let me marinate in my misery like a sad burrito."

"I know, I know. I'm sucking the fun out of this."

I rose slowly, careful of twisting my torso and unleashing another barrage of agony through my back and abdomen. Yoga, or running, or any movement at all, was always my go-to coping strategy when I couldn't take any more painkillers. But I'd ruled it out here, not having any gear or nearby facilities to practice.

Shaky on my feet, I watched with a dry mouth as Jamie pushed the bed away from the window, closer to the other bed, to increase the floor space. The muscles in his back tensed, and the tendons running the length of his forearms rippled. Then he slid open the glass door, sweeping fresh air and the sound of the ocean into the room.

Jamie dusted invisible debris off his hands and turned to me. "What's first?"

I sighed and walked closer, breathing through the twinge in my spine. I adopted a solid stance, feet together, facing the sunlight.

"Sun salutation," I said.

Jamie snorted.

"What?" I snapped, my arms already raised above my head.

"Nothing," he insisted, wiping the amusement from his face. With a sombre expression, he copied the sweeping movements of my arms, shifting as if to herald the skies. "I salute you, sun," he intoned.

I chuckled, shifting to the next asana. "Exhale down," I told Jamie. "Inhale as you take your leg back." I could only progress the flow once every ten seconds, such was the discomfort I felt in my back.

Jamie seemed to like the pace, however. It probably gave him enough time to adjust to each unfamiliar position.

"Exhale," I told him, holding myself in a plank. "Inhale into downward dog." I drew my hips high into the air and relished the deep stretching in my hamstrings, a distraction from the pain.

Jamie attempted to mimic me until some bone in his body clicked audibly. "Oh, fuck," he squeaked.

I laughed breathily. "You alright?"

He was certainly not as flexible as me, given the slight bend to his knees and discomfort on his face.

"Yeah," Jamie grunted, his face going red as all the blood flowed down to it. "Can we stop now? Is this enough yoga?"

Ha, we hadn't even started yet.

I gave Jamie a wicked wink. "Breathe through it." The boy was asking for it when he made me leave the warm, cozy bed.

"But—"

"Breathe."

"If I hurt myself—"

"Breathe."

And he did. He shut up and focused on his breath pattern, though frustration limned every exhale.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Jamie let out a contented sigh as I finally brought the flow to an end, resting in balasana on the carpet.

We kneeled on our heels with our heads on the floor, arms stretched out in front of us. This position helped the most with my cramps, alleviating the weight from my uterus.

Jamie turned his head to face mine. "If I needed proof that my body peaked in high school, that was it."

I had to chuckle at the number of bones that man clicked. Either he needed to make yoga a staple in his routine or go to a chiropractor to check that nothing broke.

"Leave it to a varsity football player to complain about his body."

"Okay, that's fair. But it's all relative, you know?"

"I hate to imagine what you were like in high school then. Ten pack? Able to lift a car?"

Jamie smiled blithely. "My last two years of high school, I was training really hard to get my football scholarship. Mom was making me home-cooked meals every night. Then I got to college and the dormitory food and alcohol and stress shot that progress to pieces."

You don't look too bad to me. But rather than address his physique—which was cut like a god's—and inflate his ego, I turned my head back to the floor and breathed deeply.

My cramps were still present, but so was the rush of blood and warmth in my muscles and tingling in my stretched tendons. The manifold sensations of yoga crowded out some of the pain.

Jamie's voice was another welcome, but unexpected, distraction. "What were you like in high school?"

I turned my head to look at him. He looked ridiculous, his lower cheek bulged by the floor. We both did, sweaty and curled into balls and covered in carpet lint.

"I was one of the high achievers. I had braces and longer hair. I played on the table tennis team and did a bunch of accelerated classes, but I wasn't awkward or shy. I was just absorbed in my grades," I explained. After a moment, I added softly, "My high school boyfriends always said I never stopped moving. I was always rushing to the next thing in my schedule."

The piqued interest in Jamie's deep green eyes was hilarious. "Boyfriends?"

"Yeah." I said nothing more.

"Want to tell me about them?"

"Not really. It was years ago. Why do you want to know?"

"I like gossip," Jamie said.

I snorted, but his silly expression didn't change. Who knew with this man? Sometimes I felt like I knew him so well because I could name his ambitions in life, and list his extended family members, and locate the sweet spot below his left collarbone with deadly accuracy.

Other times, I wanted to know if he truly liked gossip. If he ever got jealous of anyone, as I did with Farrah. If he was really morally opposed to aquariums—and why, and if he was, how he reconciled that with loving sushi.

Other times, I realised I could know Jamie to a depth that no-one else did and still want more. I would never get enough of his soul, the experiences written in capital letters, but also the odd footnotes in his life. Big or small, I wanted it all.

"Fine," I relented with a gentle voice. Jamie watched me with endless curiosity. "The first one was Khan. He was definitely one of the ones who kept saying I was too busy for him. The second was Max. He cheated on me, and I ended up staying. I actually dumped him when I realised his guilt would never let us get back to equal footing in the relationship. And then there's Carey. I really loved him."

Jamie must have noticed the tenderness I harboured toward the latter. "What was Carey like?" He lengthened his legs on the carpet and rolled to lie on his side, his arm folded underneath his head.

I slowly mirrored him, breathing in the salt air and the sounds of the people below the balcony. "Carey was so smart. He went to study Math in the UK, which is why we broke up."

"You love your nerdy boys, don't you?"

"Of course. Smart guys are," I smooched the fingers of my free hand in an imitation of a chef's kiss. Jamie rolled his eyes, a hint of... some unreadable emotion appearing and disappearing as fast as lightning.

"Your turn. What were you like in high school? You think we would've been friends?"

Jamie shook his head firmly. "Absolutely not."

I scoffed, mildly insulted. "What? Why not?"

"If high school Viv met high school Jamie, she would have slapped the eyebrows off my face," he said unexpectedly. "Actually, if I met my high school self, I might have done the same."

My delighted, disbelieving gasp had Jamie insisting, "You would have hated me in high school. I couldn't see past my own dick—"

"So not very far at all."

Jamie paused and held up a finger. "That's factually untrue and you know it."

I snorted loudly, tamping down the heated memories that threatened to prove him right. Jamie's face crumpled with restrained laughter.

"Touchy," I joked. "Anyway, high school Jamie. Go on."

"I cruised through my classes by charming my teachers and befriending the nerds. I made the varsity football team and started dating a cheerleader in sophomore year. That definitely inflated my ego," he explained.

"What was she like?"

"Her name was Francesca. Franny. And this is going to sound horrible, but I can't really remember. I know she had a good sense of humour and she was a loyal friend, but more than that I couldn't say. I was only attracted to good looks and nothing else. I think Franny teaches English in Japan now."

I nodded, understanding the ebb and flow of life. The people you loved once could travel far and wide, and the feelings would fade, and at some point, you glanced back at the past with fascination because nothing was the same anymore.

"You ever bully anyone?" I wondered.

Jamie looked thoughtful, which drove a spike of disappointment into my chest. His eyes lifted to mine quizzically. "Do Jake and Sophie count?"

Considering that they were Jamie's family, I laughed, "No."

"Then no," Jamie grinned proudly. I shook my head sardonically but ended up smiling back. For the life of me, I could never figure out why I had to laugh and smile around him. I just had to, no matter how dumb the punchline or unassuming the moment.

"I thought I had peaked. Passing my classes, hot girlfriend, made varsity. Fuck yeah, right? But I'm really glad I came to Massachusetts. Leaving my hometown made me grow up and open my eyes. There's more to school than just passing and more to relationships than just attraction and more to the world than just surviving."

Again, I felt another wave of pride mixed with bitterness. That was a common concoction these days, compared to the lust and angst of last semester. Undoubtedly Farrah had taught him about what genuine romance required—that there was more to a relationship than attraction. Our destructive fling had run on the latter, but now Jamie had found the former. He was happier and happier these days.

What could I be, if not happier and happier, for him?

"I couldn't have learned these things in Bishop," Jamie finished softly. His eyes were hazy with affection, and for a moment I wondered what it would have taken for me to say yes at the beginning.

It would have taken blind faith. And I'd seen too much, felt too much, gained too much, lost too much, to be blind. To close my eyes and just fall.

I rolled onto my back, now staring at the porcelain ceiling and the hemispherical light above us. I couldn't tell if Jamie was still watching me or not, but I kept my face blissful in case he was. "Sounds like you're where you need to be in life."

An odd silence followed.

But just as I was going to glance at Jamie, he spoke softly, "Yeah. I think I am."

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I need a study break pronto. My exams have literally gone on for a month T_T

What's spring break like? I wrote this chapter by searching 'cheapest spring break destinations usa' so. Yeah. Ya girl is curious about and a bit enamoured with the States.

I've realised Blackout is not following the typical 3-act structure at all, but nothing else feels right to me. I hope you aren't finding this smut-less part of the book boring, because it's finally when our highly-prejudiced Viv is seeing Jamie as a peer - matched in values and ability.

And the second she does...

Aimee x