Shit.
It was after I’d showered, after Jackson had helped me out of it with the dry towel he’d passed me as part of our routine, and after he’d unwrapped my arm and leg and propped me up in front of the sink that it happened.
‘It’ being my phone ringing with a call from my dad, Sam. Unfortunately, it was set to vibrate on the top setting when it rang or I got a text message. I’d placed it on the top of the cistern part of the toilet while I was in the shower. So when the call came through, my cell buzzed across the white porcelain, and fell with a plop into the toilet water while I watched it in horror, unable to move to save it.
“Oh, shit.”
The door burst open, and Jackson was standing there looking worried. “What is it? Did you hurt yourself?”
I could still hear my phone ringing from the darkest depths of the toilet, so I pointed at it, close to tears for some irrational reason. “My phone.”
Moving over to the look down into the toilet, Jackson winced. “Well, at least they make them waterproof nowadays.”
“It’s in the toilet,” I said slowly. “I’m not using that.”
“What’s happened?” Sadie asked as she joined us. “I thought I hear— Is that your phone?”
“Yeah, it’s waterproof, though, so she just needs to get it back out and clean it off.”
Jackson made it sound so simple with those words, but the tone he used screamed that he’d also be against using his own if it was in the same predicament as mine was.
“I dunno,” Sadie cringed. “I’ve been into the bathroom after you and your brothers. I wouldn’t want to use a phone that’s been in a toilet you—or anyone, for that matter—used.”
Throwing my good arm up in the air, I sighed, “Right? There’s bacteria in there.”
Not saying another word, Jackson left us alone, one staring into the toilet, and one—me—stuck by the sink.
“It looks clean in there,” Sadie admitted. “And I see a lot of bleach over there.” She pointed at a row of shelves behind the door under the wall-mounted cabinets the towels were in.
“I think Jackson has slight OCD with cleaning, so maybe it won’t be that bad?”
Proving her right, he returned with a pair of yellow gloves and dumped wipes, sprays, and some other stuff on the counter next to where I was standing.
Then, still not saying a word, he pulled a glove on and bent to pick my phone up.
“I’m going to spray it down with that antibacterial spray,” he pointed at a bottle in the heap beside me. “Then I’ll wash it off with that handwash that claims it kills 99.9 percent of germs, spray it again, use those wipes on it, and clean it one last time.”
Some might say that sounded like overkill, but if they’d had their phone swimming in toilet water, I’d like to think they’d also do the same thing and clean the shit out—and off—of it.
I still wasn’t sure I’d be able to stomach picking it up and holding it to my face.
Judging by the look on Sadie’s face, she was thinking the same thing as we watched him do what he’d suggested.
By the time it was done, I was starting to believe that I might well be able to use it, but I’d have to give it another round of the Jackson sterilization process before I did.
“Let it dry off,” he murmured, putting it on top of some paper towels Sadie had brought through so we could dry it. “Then we’ll do it one last time.”
“Thank you so much,” I sighed gratefully. “I’ve had it for a year, but I don’t want to spend over a thousand dollars on a new one just yet.”
Then, eyeing the case I’d had on it, I mumbled, “I’m trashing the case and buying a new one, though.”
“I’d do the same,” he agreed. “Then again, I think I need to replace my whole phone because it’s not even turning on now.”
Seeing the time on the semi-sterile screen of my phone, I pointed out, “You need to go to class.”
He was just opening his mouth when Marcus joined us, making me aware that I was only wearing a towel. Oops.
“Don’t worry, I’ll look after her.”
From the look on his face, I was sure this was going to be torture for me. Not that it was a mean look, but one that screamed he was in a humorous mood, and it was going to be at my expense.
Chapter Nine
Sasha
I felt almost depressed after I spoke to my dads. Sure, they’d reacted the way I’d expected, then they’d lectured me and tossed question after question about it all.
I knew it was their way of hiding how hurt they were, though, but nothing prepared me for how distraught my dad, Ryan, was when he finally broke.