make my way into the kitchen. This is somewhat clean as I'm sure most of Tim's meals come from takeout containers. I turn on the pot of coffee and sit at the table with my head in my hands. I hope this headache leaves soon. I don't think I can handle much more of it. As I wait, I take my phone from my pocket and look at the pictures again. Mel smiling. Mel and myself sharing a moment. A kissyface selfie and then a new picture. I don't remember taking this, but I must have. A photograph of Riley with a big swatch of pale gray paint on her cheek.
I remember that day well. She kept teasing me because I was trying to raise my eyebrow, and I was whining that I couldn't. Thought it was hilarious and she kept calling me Turtle. ALL. DAY. LONG. I took my full paint brush and marked her cheek with it. At first she was surprised, and then she started laughing. I thought she looked so beautiful just beaming the way she was. Ponytail, sweatpants and a big ol' blob of paint on her cheek and I needed a photo of it. I find myself still staring at the picture when I realize the coffee is done percolating, and the dark roast aroma fills the air.
Pressing the end button, I place the phone on the table, and the screen goes black. With a sigh, I stand carefully and walk to the cupboard to grab myself a mug. Pouring the coffee, the steam rises and fills my senses. I swallow a mouthful and close my eyes absorbing everything about this mug.
"I thought I heard some noise." Tim startles me from my peace. I lean back on the cupboard and place my mug just behind me.
"Sorry, there was no way I could sleep. Hope I didn't wake you."
"No, I hadn't slept yet. Just heard the coffee brewing. Then of course it's coffee and there will be no sleep." He chuckles and takes a mug down, pouring some for himself. He lifts it in the air as a toast and takes a drink. "Damn. That's good coffee."
"I really don't have to stay here, Tim. I can go home. I'm sure I will be fine. I'm not dizzy or nauseated or anything." I plead my case. I really don't want to be here. His place is dirty and smells. I want my bed, not a sofa. And I feel like a damn princess all whiny. Maybe I do need to stay a little longer just to get this out of my head.
"Tell you what. You get through today and tonight and I will take you home tomorrow."
"Why don't you just take me home and you can sleep on my sofa? I mean I am the one who got injured and needs his rest. I can't rest on your crumb infested sofa."
"Why not?"
"Dude, have you ever laid down on your sofa?" I hold up my fingers one at a time. "One, it stinks. I don't know what it smells like, but it ain't pretty. 2, it's lumpy as hell. Isn't that the same sofa your grandparents had in their basement when we were kids? We trashed that thing so many times." He continues staring blankly at me. "And 3, SO. MANY. CRUMBS. I feel like I'm laying in a sandbox. Dude. Vacuum."
He says nothing just stares blankly at me as he drinks his coffee. Each time the mug comes up to his mouth, I just want to shove it in his face. He makes no effort to discuss this with me, instead he changes the subject.
"I was thinking we could invite some of the gang from The Shake over tonight for dinner. I know at least a few of them are anxious to see that you're okay. Princess only being one of them."
I roll my eyes at his lack of understanding and walk to the table. "Oh yeah? Who?"
"Like I said, Princess and Matty from the shooter bar, and of course the band." He begins to raise the coffee to his mouth again. "And Trina." He adds as an afterthought.
"Is that so?"
"Oh yeah! Princess is upset that you got hurt because of him." He shakes his head. and I think I see a smirk form on his lips. "Matty was of course upset because he didn't get to help you in time. The band was upset because, well, your fight interrupted the set."
"I see." I spin my phone on the tabletop. "We aren't having them over here, Tim. It's a mess. Let's go do this at my place if we must. It's
I remember that day well. She kept teasing me because I was trying to raise my eyebrow, and I was whining that I couldn't. Thought it was hilarious and she kept calling me Turtle. ALL. DAY. LONG. I took my full paint brush and marked her cheek with it. At first she was surprised, and then she started laughing. I thought she looked so beautiful just beaming the way she was. Ponytail, sweatpants and a big ol' blob of paint on her cheek and I needed a photo of it. I find myself still staring at the picture when I realize the coffee is done percolating, and the dark roast aroma fills the air.
Pressing the end button, I place the phone on the table, and the screen goes black. With a sigh, I stand carefully and walk to the cupboard to grab myself a mug. Pouring the coffee, the steam rises and fills my senses. I swallow a mouthful and close my eyes absorbing everything about this mug.
"I thought I heard some noise." Tim startles me from my peace. I lean back on the cupboard and place my mug just behind me.
"Sorry, there was no way I could sleep. Hope I didn't wake you."
"No, I hadn't slept yet. Just heard the coffee brewing. Then of course it's coffee and there will be no sleep." He chuckles and takes a mug down, pouring some for himself. He lifts it in the air as a toast and takes a drink. "Damn. That's good coffee."
"I really don't have to stay here, Tim. I can go home. I'm sure I will be fine. I'm not dizzy or nauseated or anything." I plead my case. I really don't want to be here. His place is dirty and smells. I want my bed, not a sofa. And I feel like a damn princess all whiny. Maybe I do need to stay a little longer just to get this out of my head.
"Tell you what. You get through today and tonight and I will take you home tomorrow."
"Why don't you just take me home and you can sleep on my sofa? I mean I am the one who got injured and needs his rest. I can't rest on your crumb infested sofa."
"Why not?"
"Dude, have you ever laid down on your sofa?" I hold up my fingers one at a time. "One, it stinks. I don't know what it smells like, but it ain't pretty. 2, it's lumpy as hell. Isn't that the same sofa your grandparents had in their basement when we were kids? We trashed that thing so many times." He continues staring blankly at me. "And 3, SO. MANY. CRUMBS. I feel like I'm laying in a sandbox. Dude. Vacuum."
He says nothing just stares blankly at me as he drinks his coffee. Each time the mug comes up to his mouth, I just want to shove it in his face. He makes no effort to discuss this with me, instead he changes the subject.
"I was thinking we could invite some of the gang from The Shake over tonight for dinner. I know at least a few of them are anxious to see that you're okay. Princess only being one of them."
I roll my eyes at his lack of understanding and walk to the table. "Oh yeah? Who?"
"Like I said, Princess and Matty from the shooter bar, and of course the band." He begins to raise the coffee to his mouth again. "And Trina." He adds as an afterthought.
"Is that so?"
"Oh yeah! Princess is upset that you got hurt because of him." He shakes his head. and I think I see a smirk form on his lips. "Matty was of course upset because he didn't get to help you in time. The band was upset because, well, your fight interrupted the set."
"I see." I spin my phone on the tabletop. "We aren't having them over here, Tim. It's a mess. Let's go do this at my place if we must. It's
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