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“What are we supposed to do?” Amory asks. “Where are we supposed to sleep?”
“I suppose we could share the bed,” Blake suggests, and Amory makes a noise of disgust that reminds her that Amory hates her, that they’re supposed to hate each other.
“I am not sharing a bed with you,” Amory declares, and Blake has to pretend that statement doesn’t hurt her.
“Well, where are you going to sleep then?” Blake asks. “Because I’m not sleeping on the floor.” It doesn’t matter to her that Amory hates her, and probably rightfully, if she wants to make a big deal out of sharing a bed, then she can sleep somewhere else.
“Fine,” Amory says, “I’ll sleep on the floor, then.”
“Seriously?” Blake asks.
“It’s better than sleeping with you,” Amory says, and Blake rolls her eyes. It’s just a bed. Amory is being too overdramatic.
“If that’s what you want, then fine,” Blake responds.
“I hate this,” Amory says.
“Like you hate me?” Blake asks, unable to resist the temptation to get a rise out of her. And, okay, if she’s honest with herself, the idea that anyone hates her stings. But, she supposes she deserves it. She didn’t know that Natalie was Amory’s girlfriend until Amory walked in on the two of them together, but she did know that Natalie had a girlfriend and she still slept with her.
It was horrible, what she did, and she can recognize that now, even if younger and hornier her didn’t see what a bad idea sleeping with someone else’s girlfriend was. She also knows that at times she was a bitch to Amory at med school and during their surgical residency together, but Amory was never a saint. The two of them were at each other’s throats the entire time they knew one another.
It all came to a head when Amory caught Blake with Natalie, however, and the two of them have hardly spoken since.
“I hate you more than this place,” Amory states, and Blake can’t ignore how much that hurts, no matter how much she wants to.
There’s something about being hated that never sits well. Even if she knows she deserves it, she can’t shake this urge to do something about it, to make it up to Amory, to apologize and mean it. After all, they’re both queer women in the medical field. On paper, the two of them have more similarities than differences. But, Blake supposes, that’s not how life works out.
“I’m going to boil some water,” Blake says, changing the subject, “I’m starving.”
“Fine,” Amory says.
“Do you want to help?” Blake asks.
Amory sighs. “I guess so. Maybe prove to my mother that I’m not going to starve to death.”
Blake doesn’t know what Amory’s talking about so she walks over to the small kitchen area and looks around to see what is there. She finds some pots and pans, pasta, and ground beef in the fridge. There are also some canned fruits and vegetables and beans. Beans sound like a good idea, but with how long they take to cook, she knows they’ll be there all night, so her and Amory decide on pasta with meat.
There are also some juices and bottles of water in the fridge to drink. With cholera going around, she supposes that’s a much safer alternative than drinking tap water, but for the pasta, as long as they boil the water, it’ll be safe.
She starts to cook and Amory helps her in silence. It’s not a comfortable silence either. In fact, it’s one of the most uncomfortable silences Blake’s ever experienced. Amory’s anger radiates off of her like light off of a star, and Blake keeps glancing at her only to receive glares in return. She tries to not let it bother her.
She gives Amory a smirk and Amory looks away in frustration.
“Are there any spices here?” Amory asks.
“I’ll look,” Blake says, finding some spices in a cabinet above her head. She hands them to Amory, who doesn’t even give her a thank you.
Blake finishes boiling the pasta and Amory seasons it. The two of them sit at the small table in the cabin and eat.
Blake moans when she puts some of the food in her mouth. Amory did a good job.
“This is so good,” she says.
“Tell that to my mother,” Amory says.
“What?” Blake asks.
“Nothing,” Amory says.
