Build Your Fence

I really despise those girls that are clingy and needy right after sex. You’re likely to have sex with that guy again, unless you were just another “tap and dash” as I like to call it. If I weren't home, I would have left right after. Some people like being alone after sex, others want to cuddle and some smoke after. I enjoy leaving and walking right out. I sometimes wouldn’t mind going for a long walk on a crisp summer night or taking a long drive with my windows down and the night air blowing through the car.

Unfortunately I was home and had no choice but to stay in my cramped bed the remainder of the night. I rolled to my side and sat up. Shia continued to lie on the small bed, snoring softly. I grabbed a shirt, not looking whose and my shorts.

I walked right out of my room and into the kitchen. I walked straight into a stench of bacon, fried eggs and hash brown. I would have walked straight out of the kitchen if I weren’t so out of it this morning. It was the creak of the floorboard that caught the cook’s attention.

“Danielle!” he smiled as he took his spatula to the frying pan, “Breakfast?”

I stared at Paul. He was young enough to be my brother, and yet my mother continued to screw around with him. Paul Barker was my first real crush when I was a freshman in high school and he was a senior. He’s now a 24 year old fireman that my mom met one day at the grocery store. I wish I didn’t have a problem with their relationship, but I am honestly disgusted by how he could find a woman in her late 30’s attractive. I am happy to say these two aren’t official in any way but it’s disgusting to even think of my mom as a swinger.

“I’ll pass,” I replied, sitting down at the small kitchen table. “I need to go look for a job.”

“Eat something Danielle,” he persisted, “With your stomach full, you’re likely to be in a better mood and likely to get the job.”

I snorted as I brought my legs up and hugged them. “Thanks a lot asshole. You pretty much just called me a bitch.”

“I did not,” he said. It remained quiet minus the sound of the eggs sizzling in the hot pan. Then he spoke again. “Is Shia hungry?”

“W-…huh? What are you talking about?”

I saw a small smirk creep onto his face. “He’s either sound asleep in your room or in the shower, am I right?”

I huffed and let the lie slip from my lips, “He’s my best friend. I didn’t realize it was illegal to have a friend sleep over in my room. Not to mention he was drunk and, well you know.”

The Shia being drunk comment was always an automatic save from nosey parents or unwanted comments from Paul.

“I see,” he replied. “Listen, you’re old enough to do whatever you want. I just want to make sure you’re safe and…”

“Ew, Paul, no! Please don’t try and have the safe talk with me because I refuse to listen,” I practically shouted. “I’m 21. I think I am old enough to know about sex and being safe and all that shit. You’re the one who should be having this conversation. If I hear about my mother being knocked up I will disown myself from this family.”

“Are you not a morning person?” he questioned. “I thought I would be nice and cook this breakfast for you and your mom but if you’re going to be a brat about it, I won’t do it again.”

“I am not a morning person,” I sharply replied. “I think you know where you can shove that breakfast.”

As hungry as I was, the last place I wanted to be was stuck home all day. I was going to clean myself up and stay true to my word. That meant having to drive around desperately searching for a job. There was no need to be picky at this point. Being home all the time, watching television and eating junk food wasn’t good for me.

By the end of the day, I had applied to three restaurants and three retail stores. I thought that was a good day’s work for today and felt it was time to turn in. I figured I spent enough time being out from my house and since I had no place else to go, I slowly drove home.

Arriving home, I saw only Mom’s car parked on the sidewalk. I was hoping she would be half asleep in her room watching Dr. Phil or whatever it was she did every night.

I walked into the house and it was as usual pitch black. Going on a full hungry strike for the day for no apparent reason, I walked to my room, using my cell phone as a pathetic flashlight. I still felt like a kid and was extremely paranoid that the boogeyman or Freddy Krueger would pop up and scare the shit out of me.

Finally, I felt around for my light switch and flicked it on revealing an extremely messed up room. My bed was unmade with my comforter thrown on the floor carelessly. I didn’t know whether to be pissed off at Shia for not cleaning up or myself.

Actually, I blamed him. He slept in, he most likely ate breakfast, and he seduced me. Yes, that’s exactly what I call last night. Seduction, mixed in with lust and, well just overall sexiness on Shia’s part. He was too sexy for words and I wish his parents never had sex in the first place.

Okay, I don’t mean that. I’m so fucked up. That was a pretty shitty thought for me to think. I began to tear off my clothes leaving me only in my undergarments and slipped into a nightgown.

I dove into my bed; into the now piles of sheets and blankets. My bed reeked of him right now. I wasn’t sure if I enjoyed the scent or not. It reminded me too much of last night. I had to admit last night was the best night of my life. It was also the longest.

I was fighting with myself all night. Fighting to push him off me and end this sex escapade once and for all. Fighting with myself to tell him how I really felt. I felt like crying during the best moment of my life because I felt he would never know how I felt about him. He would take it as a joke and the next day act like nothing happened.

If it wasn’t such a pansy, girly thing to do, I would seriously cry myself to sleep every night. Why is it that the one guy that will most likely be the death of me, be the one that I really, truly love? Maybe this feeling would go away and I should have let him leave last night. Maybe he’s been holding me back from finding the guy I should be in love with.

Then again my family was notorious for having fucked up relationships. Nobody can last more than five years. Fact.

I smothered my face into my pillow and heard a crinkly noise from under it. I raised my head and moved the pillow, revealing a wrinkled piece of paper.

I grabbed it and instantly saw Shia’s boyish scrawl.

Danielle,

You left before I got up so leaving a letter was my only choice since you barely pick up your phone. Can we talk? Normal adult talk without any arguments?

Shia

What could Shia want to talk about? Millions of thoughts ran in my head. Did he really want to leave? Did he actually mean everything he said before about burdening me? As much as he was a burden to me and used me daily, I couldn’t deal with the thought of him leaving me.

I feel like such a little girl and so lame that for the first time in my life, I actually cried myself to sleep. I was going to avoid our “talk” for as long as possible. He wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.

I wouldn't allow it.