My Dinosaur Life

I can’t say that character would be one of your strongest assets.

(Him)

When I wake up, there’s a weight on my stomach and everything is fuzzy.

“What are you doing?” I yawn, rubbing my eyes and reaching over to find my glasses on the bedside table.

Everything’s clear again.

She’s sitting on my abdomen, lighting up.

“Smoking,” she answers calmly, inhaling then slowly releasing a puff of carelessness.

I watch it dissolve into the air courtesy of the ceiling fan, and then bring my attention back to her.

Her blonde hair is pulled back from her pale face to a messy bun at the nape of her neck.

She’s only wearing an oversized t-shirt and underwear.

“Well, that’s just great. You get drugs and I don’t. You do know it’s my birthday, don’t you?”

I’m joking, although part of me is craving the taste, and it smells nauseatingly appetizing.

But I’m used to the craving by now. I’ve been clean for awhile, and I intend to keep it that way.

I don’t have room for fuckups anymore, anyway.

“I know what day it is,” she grins mischievously, putting out the joint in the ashtray.

She leans down to give me a lingering kiss, and I can taste it on her tongue.

“What do you want?” she whispers, guiding my hand under the hem of her shirt.

The doorbell rings and multiple knocks come before we can actually get anywhere.

She sighs impatiently.

She wants to ignore it.

But the knocks come persistently and she climbs off me so I pull on a shirt and see who it is.

Probably the landlord, wondering why rent is late again.

“Tell those motherfuckers to go away,” she calls after me.

I impatiently yank the door open, anxious to get back to Annie in the bedroom.

“Mom?” I ask blankly to her smiling face. “Uh…what are you doing here?”

“Your dad I drove up to take you out for your birthday,” she beams.

“Justin?” Annie interrupts with great timing, because I don’t know what to say. My mom looks taken aback for a few seconds, and then regains her composure.

Nothing about me should come as a surprise by now.

“Hi. I’m Annie,” she says, holding out her hand to greet my mom as if she doesn’t smell like that joint she barely started smoking.

My mom smiles and we go out to breakfast after making ourselves presentable, and I’m grateful for my parents’ approval.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“I wasn’t doing anything, Justin!” she insists.

“How the fuck do I know?” I retort.

It’s late, I’m tired, and we’re leaving the bar still arguing after I almost get into a pointless fistfight that my friends had to pull me away from to avoid getting my ass beat.

The absolute last way I expected to end my birthday.

“I didn’t do anything wrong, and you know it.”

“Now tell me it wasn’t what it looked like,” I snidely reply.

“It wasn’t,” she replies, through gritted teeth. “You don’t have to be such a jealous fuck, you-”

“God-fucking-damn, Annie! How do I know? I don’t want you to-”

I don’t mean to stop there, even though we both know I was about to finish: “cheat on me again.”

“I already know you don’t trust me, Justin,” she says, her jaw set in frustration, but I see the sadness in her eyes. It’s too dark for those sunglasses she likes to wear that hide her eyes. “No need to fucking rub it in.”

I don’t really know what to say to that.

Hell, I never know what to say to anything.

It’s shit, but it’s true.

“Whatever. I’ll sleep on the couch tonight,” she says.

“Betty-” I start to groan apologetically-

And I realize I’ve done it again – confusing my past and present again, because I don’t know how to forget.

“Why do you do that? Who the fuck is that?” she rounds on me, and now she’s as pissed as I am, probably thinking I’m cheating on her and using my accusing her as a cover-up, just turning the whole night into an even bigger mess. “You think I don’t notice?”

Motherfucker.

“Annie,” I try. She shakes her head at me.

“Now tell me it’s not what it sounds like,” she lashes my own words out against me, staring back at me unflinchingly.