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“Isn’t the radiation from those nuclear thingies really bad for you?” I mumble, glancing at my phone again.
A stifling silence fills the air.
I look up and meet Josiah’s narrowed eyes. My brother isn’t saying a word but every inch of his face screams‘are you an idiot’?“What kind of radiation are you talking about, Nardi? Photons? Particles? Be specific.”
“The heck should I know?” I grumble, pulling my leg under me in the chair.
“If you’re talking about photons, then what’s the frequency?”
“Frequency?”
“Or the wave length?” He waves a hand as if he’s intentionally dumbing down the question for me, but I still have no idea what he’s talking about.
“That lightbulb up there is radiating. These laminated floors. This cell phone is radiating.” Josiah grabs my cell phone.
“Yeah, I know.” I swipe it back. “That’s why you shouldn’t sleep next to a cell phone at night or keep it in your pocket. It can make you sick.”
Josiah gives me another ‘you’re dumber than a box of rocks’ look.
He really should learn to hide that expression. I’m his sister andIfind it annoying. Josiah will be in high school soon. Those kids will have a field day teaching the little boy genius that they don’t appreciate feeling like idiots.
“Everything’sradiating,” Josiah continues in a ‘you should already know this’ tone. “All the time. Photons are being emitted and have been emitting since the dawn of time.”
I check my phone again.
No messages from Cullen.
“What do photons have to do with nuclear energy?” I mutter, grabbing a pillow and squeezing it tight. “We were talking about how dangerous it is to mess with nuclear energy. Why are you changing the subject?”
Josiah springs to his feet with a sound of utter frustration. “Go outside tomorrow. You’ll be standing in front of a literal nuclear reactor that produces electromagnetic radiation through nuclear fusion.”
“I didn’t understand any of those words.”
He grunts and stalks off mumbling, “This is why I don’t talk to you.”
“Hey! Don’t be rude!”
Josiah’s door shuts firmly and I’m left alone to the restless quiet.
Pulling my phone to my face, I open my messages app and scroll down, refreshing the page. There are no new messages.
I check if my network is stable.
It is.
Wait for me tonight.
I’m not crazy. I heard what Cullen said. He looked me in my eyes and told me that he’d visit tonight. Did he change his mind because of what happened in the office?
“What a waste of a razor,” I mumble, smoothing my hand over my glossy, cocoa-buttered legs.
Not that I shaved for Cullen.
Or cleaned up other areas of my body for Cullen.
Or used my expensive perfume that I won during an office holiday party… for Cullen.
It’s because I deserve to treat myself with care. No one else is going to do it.