go. I'll see you for my lessons.” I don't wait for a reply and head home. Once inside, I dash to the bathroom and take a shower. Showers always seem to help clear my head, but it doesn't work this time; Jay is as present as ever. The pull to go to him has formed into an invisible rope trying to lasso me in. I fight the urge to see if he's left for where ever he's headed today, which I'll admit I desperately want to know where or what it is. Anything to unlock another clue.
I throw on my old, comfy, around the house jeans that are frayed at the knees and a faded t-shirt from the Nine Inch Nails concert I went to years ago. I comb my hair and brush my teeth, but I can't stand it anymore and decide to take a peek out the kitchen window to see if he's left yet.
Looking out, I see him getting into his truck in his uniform of jeans, gray shirt, black combat boots, and black shades.
My body springs into action, not giving my mind a chance to control it. I'm running out the door, grabbing my TOMS, purse, and only locking the bottom as I run to his truck that is backing out of the driveway.
I'm running full speed now, calling his name. He starts to drive off, then stops when he notices me. I throw open the door. As I try to hop up I embarrassingly realize I never put on a bra and my breasts are bouncing away. Jay is staring at me as I slam the door shut, but I can't see his eyes and his mouth is drawn straight. Maybe I'm not invited anymore, oops. Well too bad for him, I'm going.
He doesn’t say a word and keeps driving. I slip on my shoes and make another realization that I never put on any makeup and my hair is dripping wet. I tell myself it doesn't matter, that I'm not here to impress anyone, but I know that's a lie. I'm in my lounging around the house clothes, bra-less, faceless, with soaking wet hair. I'm pretty sure he's going to regret calling me adorable or beautiful.
“So where are we going?” I ask, digging around in my purse for a hair-tie.
“ It's a surprise,” Jay leans over and turns on the stereo. The sound of Frank Sinatra fills the truck.
I'm shocked, “You listen to Ol' Blue Eyes?”
“Yeah, my old man loved The Rat Pack. I grew up on it.”
I pull my hair back and start braiding the end.
“You're always surprising me, Jay,” I beam at him while I secure the braid with the hair-tie. “I forgot to ask you last night how you knew what I drink.”
“ I'm an observer. Anywhere I am I take in my surroundings. I remembered seeing your friend order it for you without asking last time. I assumed that's what you drink.”
“ You were watching me?”
“ Not only you, everyone. It's what I do, it's automatic. Like right now I could tell the girl walking her dog just popped a piece of Trident gum in her mouth from her pocket, or this douche up ahead is distracted, talking on his phone so-” Jay stops talking to slam on his brakes and his arm comes out to protect me from whipping forward. Jay honks and flips the guy off. He had completely run a red light and would have hit us if Jay hadn't seen him coming. “I fucking hate cell phones. Worst invention ever.”
“ They come in handy.”
“ When?” he scoffs.
“ Car breaks down or something?”
“ So learn how to take care of your fucking car.”
“ You don't need to get snippy, I was only making an example. Don't you have one?” I point out, remembering the one from last night.
“ Fuck no, that one belongs to the bar. They make me carry it when I'm working in case I'm MIA and they need backup. They're too easy to trace,” Jay's lips tighten at his remark, and I can tell he let that last part slip out. I'm almost positive now Jay is running, but I haven't a clue from what. “How's the job hunt going?” I know he's changing the subject and I let him; he wouldn't answer any of my questions anyway.
“ Lousy. Nobody seems to be hiring right now.”
“ What'd you do before?”
“ I worked for Will's dad, as his secretary. I quit the
I throw on my old, comfy, around the house jeans that are frayed at the knees and a faded t-shirt from the Nine Inch Nails concert I went to years ago. I comb my hair and brush my teeth, but I can't stand it anymore and decide to take a peek out the kitchen window to see if he's left yet.
Looking out, I see him getting into his truck in his uniform of jeans, gray shirt, black combat boots, and black shades.
My body springs into action, not giving my mind a chance to control it. I'm running out the door, grabbing my TOMS, purse, and only locking the bottom as I run to his truck that is backing out of the driveway.
I'm running full speed now, calling his name. He starts to drive off, then stops when he notices me. I throw open the door. As I try to hop up I embarrassingly realize I never put on a bra and my breasts are bouncing away. Jay is staring at me as I slam the door shut, but I can't see his eyes and his mouth is drawn straight. Maybe I'm not invited anymore, oops. Well too bad for him, I'm going.
He doesn’t say a word and keeps driving. I slip on my shoes and make another realization that I never put on any makeup and my hair is dripping wet. I tell myself it doesn't matter, that I'm not here to impress anyone, but I know that's a lie. I'm in my lounging around the house clothes, bra-less, faceless, with soaking wet hair. I'm pretty sure he's going to regret calling me adorable or beautiful.
“So where are we going?” I ask, digging around in my purse for a hair-tie.
“ It's a surprise,” Jay leans over and turns on the stereo. The sound of Frank Sinatra fills the truck.
I'm shocked, “You listen to Ol' Blue Eyes?”
“Yeah, my old man loved The Rat Pack. I grew up on it.”
I pull my hair back and start braiding the end.
“You're always surprising me, Jay,” I beam at him while I secure the braid with the hair-tie. “I forgot to ask you last night how you knew what I drink.”
“ I'm an observer. Anywhere I am I take in my surroundings. I remembered seeing your friend order it for you without asking last time. I assumed that's what you drink.”
“ You were watching me?”
“ Not only you, everyone. It's what I do, it's automatic. Like right now I could tell the girl walking her dog just popped a piece of Trident gum in her mouth from her pocket, or this douche up ahead is distracted, talking on his phone so-” Jay stops talking to slam on his brakes and his arm comes out to protect me from whipping forward. Jay honks and flips the guy off. He had completely run a red light and would have hit us if Jay hadn't seen him coming. “I fucking hate cell phones. Worst invention ever.”
“ They come in handy.”
“ When?” he scoffs.
“ Car breaks down or something?”
“ So learn how to take care of your fucking car.”
“ You don't need to get snippy, I was only making an example. Don't you have one?” I point out, remembering the one from last night.
“ Fuck no, that one belongs to the bar. They make me carry it when I'm working in case I'm MIA and they need backup. They're too easy to trace,” Jay's lips tighten at his remark, and I can tell he let that last part slip out. I'm almost positive now Jay is running, but I haven't a clue from what. “How's the job hunt going?” I know he's changing the subject and I let him; he wouldn't answer any of my questions anyway.
“ Lousy. Nobody seems to be hiring right now.”
“ What'd you do before?”
“ I worked for Will's dad, as his secretary. I quit the
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