Read The Donor (The Full Novella) for Free Online

room, he turns, dripping net in hand. He positions it away from me, full of whatever is inside, and walks into the kitchen where I assume he throws it out.
    “What was it?” I ask when he is back in the living room.
    “Seahorse.” He walks past me and sits on the couch, taking his laptop from the coffee table and opening it. “Do you want to sit?” he asks as an afterthought.
    I sit down and he types something into his computer. “Does that happen a lot?” I ask, unsure of what else to say.
    Jonah glances at me, his expression telling me he's surprised that I want to know. “It's a recent problem,” he says. “I'm working on resolving it, though.”
    “Oh,” I say, even more uncertain of what to say now.
    “Is there something you need?” he asks.
    The tone of his words combined with how he isn't looking at me almost hurts. I wonder vaguely if it's because he knows about me now.
    “No,” I manage to say, though my chest aches when the word leaves my mouth.
    Maybe I’m not acting enough like a donor. I should be in my room, waiting until he needs me, not trying to make friends. I’m replaceable, just like the seahorses.
    Now his full attention is on me. “Casey?” He places the laptop back on the coffee table and takes my hand, which is sitting in my lap. “What is it?” The coolness of his fingers slows my heart rate. I know I probably shouldn't let myself like how his hand feels in mine so much, but I can't help it.
    I don’t know what tips him off to my uneasiness; maybe it’s a non-human thing. I clear my throat, trying to not think about it. “Nothing,” I say. “My head kind of hurts.”
    He doesn't seem convinced, but he lets it slide. “You can lie down as I work,” he offers. “I shouldn't be long. A few hours at most.”
    “Okay,” I say, pulling away from him and standing.
    Jonah tugs gently on my hand. “Where are you going?” he asks with a slight smile. “You can stay here.”
    I smile a little. I sit back down.
    Jonah moves over so I can stretch out next to him. I curl onto my side and place my hands under my head, which is right near his legs. I like the feeling of being close. Of feeling human for once.
    He lifts my head with one of his hands and places a throw pillow underneath. “How's that?” he asks.
    I smile up at him. “Perfect.”
    Jonah retrieves his laptop and continues typing. The soft sound relaxes me. “What do you do?” I ask. I hadn't bothered with the question when we met online. It didn't seem important to me then.
    “I own my own company,” he says. “It deals with mainly sending out emails and keeping track of inventory. Most of the time it's pretty boring.”
    “Inventory?” I ask, watching the tank in front of us, one seahorse short now. “You sell stuff, like you own a store or something?”
    “It's mostly web based,” he says. “But technically yes.”
    He didn't really answer the question I want him to, which is what does he exactly sell, but I decide that it doesn't really matter right now. Whatever it is, it provides me with money I can send back home. I shouldn't care about much else.
    I think about my parents, who despite the short phone call I have with them once or twice a day, are probably wondering why I’ve been out here so long. I have to think of something soon, something that will put them at ease while the days I’m away from home tick by. The thought of coming up with yet another lie to tell them causes a dull ache in my stomach.
    “Are you feeling okay?” Jonah asks.
    There's a dull throb in my temples, but it's nowhere near as bad as it could be. “Yeah, why?”
    “Your expression changed just now.”
    I try to push away the fact that while I've been studying the fish tank, he's been studying me. “Oh,” I say.
    “What's on your mind?”
    He’s still typing, but he stops when my eyes settle on him.
    “I didn't come here so you could worry about taking care of me or whatever,” I say. “I don't want you to look