Love Among the Pizza Boxes

I bought another pineapple – for old times’ sake.
I can’t think of any guy names with ‘Fred’ in them, so I’ll name this one Winifred.
Winifred is a female pineapple.
Technically they all were – because fruits are giant ovaries.
Anyways.
So I accidently brought Winifred to Shayla’s house with me.
Oh well.
So I’m at Shayla’s house because I’m retrieving my boxers.
I just used two dog breeds in that sentence.
What?
Okay.
You’re cool.
I have a theory that once you buy a dog – you don’t stop thinking about them.
Dogs, dogs, dogs.
Great.
So I’m holding Winifred in one hand.
And I knock on Shayla’s door.
It’s around nine at night.
There’s some music pounding from inside and a woman yelling along with the song.
Shayla opens the door. “-Tonight’s gonna be a good night!”
C’ept it isn’t Shayla who says that. It’s someone else.
“Oh hey, Riku.” Shayla smiles quickly and takes a nervous look behind her.
“Hi, uh – is this a bad time?”
I try and peek into her house behind her.
“…No. No… It’s just uh…” She uses her thumb to point back into her living room. “Zermine’s here.”
“Oh, got it.” I nod.
“…You… Wanna come inside?” Shayla looks behind her again and flinches a bit.
“Uh – sure.” So I go into her house.
And I look over at the living room.
The couch is knocked over.
There’s a tall black woman laying back on the overturned couch, guzzling a liter of Coke. She’s almost to the bottom.
“Um… hi…?” I say to her, sort of grimacing.
She finishes the Coke and lets out an earth-shattering belch and does a somersault off the couch. She clambers to her feet, wipes her hands off on her overalls and smiles at Winifred. “You brought a pineapple for me?!” And then she takes Winifred out of my hands.
“Uh… Sure. Keep it.”
It’s not like I planned on keeping Winifred for long, anyways.
She probably would’ve rotted in the passengers’ seat of my car.
“…Zermine.” Shayla walks over to her, grabs her by the hair. “Say ‘hi’ to Riku, please.”
Zermine stares around the room and then finally looks at me. “Oh… Hey.” She sticks out her fist.
I look up at her.
Yes – up.
I have to look up to meet her in the eye.
Damn this girl is tall.
So, to be polite, I pound her fist.
“Hey,” I say.
And then Zermine walks off and sits on the overturned couch again and starts conversing with Winifred.
“She’s the girl you married?” I ask Shayla.
Shayla looks at me. Nods slowly. “…Yep.” Then she shakes her head and closes her eyes tightly.
“Well.”
“I really wonder why I was groom.” Shayla’s now looking over at her friend who is now making out with my pineapple.
I clear my throat.
Poor Winifred.
“Uh… How old is she?”
“Twenty five. How tall is she? 6 foot 5.”
No way in hell is that girl twenty-five.
I just nod slowly.
“…She just came back from Harvard.”
“She… went to Harvard?”
This just keeps getting better and better.
“You bet. She’s a bona fide genius.”
“Uh-huh…”
I find it extremely hard to believe that the woman on the over-turned couch who’s making out with a pineapple is a genius.
You know who I think she’d like?
Wakka.
And Wakka will love this chick.
He’s always loved the cougar concept.
“…So what do I owe this visit to?”
“Uh… My boxers – “
“I gotta take a leak!” Zermine shouts and goes into the bathroom.
…
Yup.
Scream it.
Scream it loud and proud.
Because that’s what normal people do.
They announce that they have to take a piss.
“…Um. Yeah. Yeah, sure.” Shayla blinks at the bathroom door and then goes into the door beside that one.
While I’m waiting for Shayla to come back, I go over to the couch and look at Winifred.
She’s kinda wet and has teeth marks all over.
Yeah, Wakka’s gonna love this girl.
Shayla comes back carrying my boxers. She smiles and hands them to me. “There you go.”
“Thanks.”
And I just stand there.
There’s a thud coming from the bathroom and then Zermine leans her head out of the doorframe. “…Shayla…? Shayla I could really use a doobie. Shayla…?”
“-Oh God! Zermine! Do not get high in my bathroom!”
And then Shayla runs over to the door, but Zermine closes it in her face.
Shayla pounds on the door. “Zermine!”
“….You can’t make me!” Zermine shouts back through the door.
Shayla sighs and turns back to me. “She’s gonna make my bathroom smell like pot again.”
“Again…?”
Zermine kinda creeps me out.
“…Yeah.” Shayla nods. “Yeah…”
“Uh…”
What is wrong with this kid?
Zermine, I mean.
Hey – that rhymes.
Shut up, Riku.
“You know who I think Zermine would like?” I ask Shayla, like I had asked myself a little bit ago.
“If it’s a psychiatrist- you can forget about it.”
“What? No – it’s not a psychiatrist. He’s my friend. His name’s Wakka. I really think they’d get along.”
“Oh. Well. As long as he’s into big feet with a side of crazy- we’re good.” Shayla gives me a goofy grin.
I laugh and nod. “She should meet him sometime.”
Shayla nods. “It’s a date.”
“Awesome… I’ll let Wakka know tomorrow.” I nod, too. “But, uh… where’re we going?”
“Chili’s. Zermine likes places like those. And we got kicked out of the Applebee’s last week and a while back we got kicked out of Red Robin. So Chili’s is the only one left.”
“Alrighty. When…?”
I’m putting this all on her because I hate planning.
I’m impulsive.
Because impulsive is sexy.
“Uh…” Shayla taps her chin. “Tomorrow is the only day I can think of because that’s the only day I’ll be in touch with Zermine. She doesn’t have a phone or anything and so she’ll just drop by unexpectedly and be like, ‘Hey, got any booze?’ and then I’ll say ‘no’ and then she’ll go to the store and you get the point. She’s only gonna be here until tomorrow.”
I nod. “Tomorrow’s cool.”
There’s that word again.
Cool.
I really need to stop using that word.
It’s getting so old.
“Kay. Is 2:00 good? Zermine eats like an old person. Dinner comes at the time when lunch should be in her book.”
Like an old person?
“So she goes in for the Early Bird Special.”
“You got it.” She points her finger at me and makes like a gun.
“That’s pretty interesting.”
“Yep…” Shayla looks around the room. “You wanna help me with the couch?”
“Sure thing.” I nod and then I grab the back of the couch, which is on the floor.
And then I turn the couch over.
Easy peasy.
Lemon squeasy.
What?
No.
That’s weird, Riku.
Shayla starts clapping. “Oh thank you, you big strong man, you.”
I chuckle and jokingly flex the muscles on my right arm.
I’m not going to lie.
I’m quite proud of my biceps.
Shayla raises her eyebrows, slowly runs her tongue along her bottom lip and-
Zermine tumbles out of the bathroom.
“Hi, Zermine,” I say to her reproachfully.
Shayla rolls her eyes and walks over to Zermine who’s just kinda looking around the room like it’s not a room at all, but a jungle or something.
“Zermine…?”
“…Is that you Tarzan?”
Zermine points to the ceiling and then goes over to the couch and flops herself down on it.
“…Okay.” Shayla goes into the bathroom. “… Why are there Cheez-it’s in the bathroom?”
She comes back out with a box of Cheez-it’s. She sticks her hand into the box, fishes around in it for a while and pulls a key ring out. “Ah hah!”
Keys.
In a Cheez-it’s box.
Mkay.
Cool.
Who am I to judge?
If she wants to keep her keys in a box of Cheez-it’s, I’m not gonna stop her.
Why’re you being so judgmental, Riku?
Maybe Zermine put them there.
Shayla looks up at me. “…Zermine hid these.” She holds up her keys.
Zermine’s snoring like a bear on the couch now with Winifred in her arms.
I blink at Zermine.
That poor pineapple.
“You wanna go outside?”
I nod.
Outside is good.
Hopefully we can’t smell the pot outside.
Because pot smells like rhinoceros shit.
Shayla sets the box of Cheez-it’s on the arm of the couch and opens the door to her backyard.
I let her go outside first – because that’s what nice guys do.
Ladies first.
Then I step outside after her and close the door.
Ah, fresh air.
No rhino waste.
Shayla sits down on the concrete steps leading to the grassy area of the yard and starts playing with her key ring.
I sit down next to her. “No offense – but why’re you two friends?”
“Because she’s actually not too bad if she isn’t high or drunk.”
I nod a couple times. “I see.”
“Have you ever gotten high?”
“Uh.”
Yes, actually.
God, it was terrible.
“Yeah. Once.”
Shayla nods. “On what?”
“Hell if I know. My buddy Tidus gave it to me.”
Buddy?
No. He’s not my buddy.
Why did I try something Tidus had given me in the first place?
He takes steroids, for God’s sake.
I didn’t know that at the time though.
Shayla raises her eyebrows. “Wow,” she mouths.
“Yeah… Not the best experience of my life.”
“I bet not.”
“What about you?” I ask.
Shayla shakes her head. “Nope. Unless I have off Zermine’s second hand smoke or something.”
“I see.”
Well that just makes my encounter with Tidus’ mystery ‘wonder-joints’ even more embarrassing.
“Yep.” Shayla leans back on her elbows. “I’m glad I didn’t though. I’ve thought about it. But I don’t think it’s worth it… But the funny thing is, is that I’ve been drunk quite a few times and it’s almost as bad as pot or something. Except there’s no mystery in it.”
“I’ve never been drunk, actually.”
“Really?” Shayla looks at me and then at the moon. “How noble.”
I shrug, though she can’t see me. And then I look at the moon, too.
It’s a full moon.
Big and round.
And it looks like there’s a face in the moon.
The face is smiling real big and it’s winking at me.
I wonder why.
Shayla’s looking at me now I think.
So I turn back towards her. And I notice she’s smiling, so I smile, too.
And then Shayla looks away. “…When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie…”
“That’s amoré.”
Amoré.
Shayla sniffs and squints one of her eyes shut and makes a heart with her fingers and holds her hands up to the sky.
I lean over, trying to get the same view of the sky that she’s getting.
Shayla pats my face with her hand and laughs to herself.
And then she turns her head to me and then presses her cheek to mine.
And my nose is in her hair.
Her hair still smells like watermelons.
I like watermelons.
I feel Shayla smile and then she pulls away and looks at the grass.
I blink, and then look at the grass, too.
Then I look at the sky again.
A plane is flying up there.
When I was younger, I would think they were shooting stars.
So I’d make a wish on them.
Which – now that I look back on it – was actually kind of stupid.
Oh well.
Kids do the stupidest things.
“There’s a frog in the grass.”
So I turn my attention to the grass.
“Where – oh, wait. I found it.”
The frog croaks once.
Ribbit.
“Ribbit,” Shayla says to the frog.
I laugh.
The frog hops away. “Bye bye froggie.” Shayla waves her hand limply after the frog.
I laugh some more.
I once had a pet frog.
I accidently left it in the sun.
Its tank, I mean. I left its tank in the sun.
So I came home from school one day to find that poor Enrique had shriveled up into nothing.
My mom and I held a funeral.
My dad was drunk.
He took a piss on the grave.
“I stepped on a frog once,” Shayla tells me.
“Oh. That couldn’t’ve ended well.”
She shakes her head. “It was the fourth of July and I was watching fireworks with my Grandma and a childhood friend and we decided to look at the frogs in the grass instead of the fireworks and I wasn’t watching what I was doing and I stepped on one and I didn’t know it. So my friend was yelling at me that I stepped on a frog and then I lifted up my foot and low and behold there was a little froggie corpse below my flip flop and its eyes were staring up at me and I felt so so so so so bad. I thought about it for days after that. I still feel bad sometimes. We tried to turn the froggie into a serial frog killer or a frog burglar, but I think he was a good frog. He went to froggie church every day. A good, devout frog he was. And I killed him. I squished him with my foot and I still wear those flip flops that were the murder weapon to this day.”
“Oh. I, uh… I’m sorry to hear that. But… Maybe he was a bad frog.”
Shayla shushes me. “Good. Frog.”
I hesitate. But then I nod slowly. “Okay. If you say so.”
Shayla sighs. “Poor frog. I’m sorry little guy.”
“I’m sure he knows it’s an accident. And he’s looking down at you from Frog Heaven and he forgives you.”
I don’t know.
I’m trying to make her feel better.
I don’t care if I sound stupid.
Shayla smiles at me. “Thanks for trying. But I’m a murderer. There’s no way around it.”
“Maybe he was really sick. Or injured. Maybe you put it out of its misery.”
“I’m a murderer,” she whispers.
“No. Stop that. You aren’t a murderer.”
She sniffles a little and turns to look at me. “I murdered a frog and now I’m a frog murderer.” Her eyes are really wide and I swear she’s gonna cry.
“No – Shayla. You aren’t a frog murderer.”
“Yeah. Yeah I am.” She’s tearing up.
Oh, God.
I do not do well with tears.
I suck with tears.
Aw, God.
She’s gonna cry.
What do I do?
“He was lookin’ at me from the grave!” And then she lets go.
“No, Shayla – don’t cry.”
I suck with tears.
So I just try to comfort her by rubbing her back.
Because I suck with tears.
She sniffles a whole bunch. “…Am I really crying over a frog?”
Well there’s nothing else to cry over that I’m aware of.
That was a bit mean.
I don’t answer her question.
I smile a cautious smile at her.
And I just hope that she smiles too.
Because she needs to stop crying.
Because tears are my sworn enemy.
“Sorry. I hardly ever cry. But now I’m around you all the time and I’ve cried like three times. It’s like I’m pregnant or something. You probably think I’m crazy. Because I am. I’m crazy.”
I shake my head.
My hand is still on her back.
Anyways.
“No, you aren’t crazy.”
Shayla grins and shakes her head. “Nope. I swear to God. I’m ass backwards.”
Then I’m in love with a crazy person.
“That’s okay. I like crazy. Love it, even.”
“I’m glad.”
I just smile.
So Shayla smiles too and then looks back to the sky.
So I do, too.
And I say nothing.
Y’know that quote, about how a good friend is like, someone who you can sit with in complete silence for hours. And then when you leave, you feel like you’ve had the best conversation in the world or something?
I guess that’s how I feel right now.
We aren’t saying anything.
But I guess I don’t regret not saying anything.
My hand’s still on her back.
So I slide it down her arm and I hold her hand.
That reminds me of a Beatles song.
I Want To Hold Your Hand or something.
They were geniuses – the Beatles, I mean.
I haven’t heard a Beatles song in so long.
My mom would always sing the Beatles when she cooked.
And when she’d sing me to sleep.
And a lot of other times, too.
She loved the Beatles.
Then Shayla starts humming, still looking at the moon.
I wonder if Shayla likes the Beatles.
Shayla looks down at our hands. And she does that for a while before looking up at me. “Scar?” She looks down again.
Scar?
What’s she talking about?
…
Oh.
“Oh. Yeah. That.”
I let go of her hand to look at my wrist, where the scar is.
It kinda looks like I cut myself.
Like I went emo.
But I didn’t.
“What happened?”
“Uh – nothing, really.”
Liar.
“It, uh… It’s not really anything. There was a… A thing.”
“A thing.” Shayla nods. “Uh huh.”
“And it was, uh… It was in my arm… Uh. Okay. So. You know the thing? When darkness tore the worlds apart because everything was connected through light…?”
“Yeah…?”
“Yeah. Well. You could say that part of that was my fault. Because I… Well. I… Uh. Darkness.”
That’s great, Riku.
You sound real smart.
Move over, Einstein.
“…You… Succumbed to the darkness in your heart, yes?” She says in a bad Italian accent.
“Uh – “ I nod. “Yes. Yeah I did. And this,” I tap my scar a couple times, “is what came out of it.”
“Hmm…” Shayla grabs my arm, looks real close at the scar. “I’ve always thought that scars are sexy.”
That makes me feel so much better about having a scar.
I nod some more, smiling a small smile. “Uh… I have another one…”
“Oh really now? Can we see that one?”
We?
So I pull my pant leg up.
And there it is.
Bleh.
This one looks nasty in my opinion.
Shayla peers down at it. “…Whoa… Dude. That’s wicked awesome.”
It doesn’t seem as nasty anymore.
Though it was painful.
Very long and very painful.
It almost cut into my bone.
I just nod some more.
Shayla gets down on her knees and takes a closer look at it. She runs her finger down the scar. “Did it hurt?” She looks back up at me.
“Like a bitch,” I say.
Because it did.
Her eyes widen. “What happened there?”
“There was this guy… Who wanted a heart… But could only get one if Sora and I were dead. So, uh, he tried to kill me with a laser. It kinda looked like a light saber…. But anyways. So he missed. And he jabbed me in the leg instead of the chest.” I nod a couple times. “He has bad aim.”
Shayla kinda snorts at the last part. “I can’t imagine.”
My head bobs some more. “Yeah… But he’s gone now. Sora and I got ‘im.”
“Whoo!” She does a fist pump.
I laugh.
“Y’know. I have a scar too.” Shayla nods.
“Really? Where?”
“Here…” She stretches her head up and shows me the underside of her chin. “See it…?”
I squint. Then I nod. “Yeah, I see it. What happened?”
“I got into a heated debate with a trampoline and guess who won?” Shayla lowers her head and grins.
“Sounds pretty painful.”
And I smile back at her.
“Nah. I got some ice cream afterwards so it was well worth the blood payment.”
I just nod some more.
“…I’ve got another scar actually.” Shayla pulls up part of the arm of her T-shirt. There’s a little brown circle there.
“Uh. What happened there?”
“Well. Let’s just say that relatives are often not very careful of where they put out their cigarettes.”
I open my mouth to say something.
But nothing comes out.
My brow furrows.
“… Ouch,” I finally say.
You know, in orphanages, that was a form of torture.
They did that when they were punishing the poor kid.
Shayla shrugs. “I was young. It was an accident- or at least I hope it was.”
I nod – again.
I wish there was another word for ‘nod’.
Then I wouldn’t be saying the word ‘nod’ so often.
“Yeah-“
“Hey guys!” The sliding door opens and out comes Zermine.
“Hi,” Shayla says and waves.
“Uh, hi,” I say.
“Oh my God. Shayla, why are you down there?- Oh wait. I know this. You guys are fuck buddies, right?”
I hear a soft high pitched noise come from Shayla.
I bite the inside of my cheek and sigh.
“…No. No.” And that’s all Shayla says.
“Oh come on, guys! Look.” Zermine turns her attention to me. “You’re hot. She’s hot. You can’t give me this bullshit. You cannot look me in the eye and say you haven’t been doing your own little contribution to the population.” She waggles her eyebrows.
I look her in the eye. “No, we have not had sex.”
…
Yet.
What?
Okay.
“…Yet.” Someone says quietly.
Was that Shayla?
“Yet,” Zermine says.
Yet.
I like that word.
‘Yet’ is a good word.
A promising word.
What?
No.
Shut up.
I look over at Shayla.
I don’t know what my expression looks like.
Probably confused.
Maybe scared.
I don’t know.
Because I can’t see my own face.
“…Zer-“
The sprinklers turn on in the back yard.
“Woo hoo!” Zermine starts to run, yards of limbs flailing behind her.
“…And then there were two little Indians sitting on a log,” Shayla says grimly.
I stay silent for a moment.
Just staring at her.
“…What?”
“…Agatha Christie. Look for your local library and you’ll see.”
That kinda rhymed.
Okay.
You’re cool.
I nod and sorta smile.
“…Maybe we should go inside,” Shayla suggests.
“Good idea,” I say.
So I open the sliding door and let her go in first.
Once we’re inside Shayla turns to me. “Sorry I’m being so weird. Zermine is… She makes me… Yeah.”
I smile. “It’s okay, I understand.”
“Really?...Well. Good. Thanks.”
“No problem. Um. Should I leave now?”
“If you don’t want to help with the Cheez-it barf clean-up… I suggest you take your boxers and get the hell outta Dodge.”
Yum.
Cheez-it barf.
So I grab my boxers off the kitchen counter and turn back to Shayla.
I really don’t want to leave.
But I don’t want to clean up barf, either.
But I don’t want to just leave her to clean up the mess…
That’d be very mean.
And that’s not what good boyfriends do.
Yup.
It’s decided.
My conscience is a girl.
“Uh.”
Stupid Constance.
Remember, Constance, this is all your fault.
“Do you want me to stay? You know, to help with clean-up.” I lean up against the kitchen counter.
“…Um… Well. Not for clean-up necessarily…”
So I put my boxers back on the counter. “Alrighty.”
I hate that word.
Why do I say it all the time?
It sounds weird.
I don’t like it.
Maybe I’ll just stop saying it all together.
“Really? ‘Cause you don’t have to. By all means, if you have to be somewhere or if you’re just sick of me or whatever you can leave. I won’t mind.”
“No, I want to stay.”
Shayla smiles. “Thanks. That’s very nice of you… But you are in for a night.”
I shrug. “That’s okay. I think I’ve gotten used to her.”
“Alright… Well. There’s just one thing you always have to know when she’s around.”
I raise my eyebrows.
Because I can’t raise just one.
It’s disappointing, actually.
I’ve always been envious of people who can raise one eyebrow.
“And that is…?” I prompt.
“No. Always say, ‘no’.”
I nod. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good.” Shayla nods back at me.
“So, uh… What’re we going to do while we wait for, uh…” I jab my thumb in the direction of the back sliding door, through which I can see Zermine fall to the ground. I sigh and my hand drops to my thigh. “Never mind…”
I push myself from the counter and I walk over to the back door. I lean against that and look at Zermine, who’s passed out. The sprinklers are still going at it. I heave a sigh again and open the door.
Then I go to the edge of the porch. And I brace myself for the sprinklers.
When I go back inside, I’m soaking wet and freezing. Zermine is draped over my arms.
“Uh… Where should I put her?” I ask Shayla, standing in the back doorway.
Shayla’s smiling at me. “Uh. The couch is good I guess…”
So I nod and set Zermine on the couch.
I exhale noisily.
I’m dripping.
Then from out of nowhere Shayla starts hugging me. “Thank you.”
She’s gonna get wet…
So I wrap my arms around her. “You’re welcome… Wait – what’re you thanking me for?”
Shayla chuckles breathily. “Because you…” She looks up at me. “I… You’re a good person.”
I laugh under my breath. “Thanks?”
“Uh…Sure. Anytime.”
“So, uh… Now what?”
Zermine snorts.
What?
I thought she was asleep.
I look at Zermine out of the corner of my eye, still hugging Shayla.
She’s curled up in a ball, snoring like a bear deep in hibernation.
“….Uh. Do you want to go somewhere other than the living room?”
I nod. “Yeah, that’d be a good idea.”
“Alright.” Shayla slips out of my arms. “Here. We can go to my bedroom.”
…
Shut up, Gary.
And not the doorman Gary.
So I nod and I let her lead me into her … bedroom.
Shayla takes a flying leap onto her bed just as we enter the door.
I walk over to her bed and sit on the end of it.
“…I love beds…” Shayla mumbles into her comforter.
I kinda laugh.
I don’t.
I like couches better.
I don’t know why.
But I always sleep on the couch.
Even though there’s a perfectly functional bedroom that I could be sleeping in.
But I will admit – her bed is actually pretty comfortable.
Shayla flops over onto her back. “You should lay back.” She starts making snow angels in her bed spread. “And mess up my bed with me.”
Um.
… Um.
Okay.
I think she meant the bed spread. Like – make it… not-so-tidy anymore.
… Yeah.
We’ll go with that.
And I kinda laugh some more.
And then I lay back.
And I’m laying on something lumpy.
So I sit back up to investigate.
And I find that I just laid down on a stuffed iguana.
“Oh.”
So I pick up the stuffed iguana and set it in my lap.
Shayla sits up. “That’s Hector.”
I nod and pat the iguana on the head. “Hi, Hector.”
“Oh, Hoooolllllaaaaaa,” Shayla makes the iguana say.
I raise my eyebrows at the iguana.
Even though I’m reacting to something Shayla did.
Because the iguana did nothing.
Because it’s a stuffed iguana.
And stuffed things don’t talk.
And neither do pineapples.
Or dogs.
And then I laugh.
Not at my thoughts.
But at Shayla.
Well – not at Shayla.
But at what Shayla just did.
“Don’t listen to this one. He’s loco con cocoa.”
I laugh some more.
So then Shayla takes Hector from me and puts him on the nightstand closest to her. “Buenos noches, Señor Héctor.”
I just keep on laughing.
Oh, Lord.
Please, no.
I’m getting tired.
That’s not a good thing.
I act retarded when I’m tired.
Shayla lays back down on her bed with a sigh and the she starts rolling around on it. “I’m serious… You gotta try this…”
“You want me to roll around?”
“Roll around, do whatever. It’s a bed. Be creative.”
Oh, I’ll be creative all right.
Aw, God.
Just – just no.
Bad Riku.
But I decide not to be creative.
And I just lay back again.
And I close my eyes.
Shayla slides her hand under my forearm.
I slowly open my eyes to find her staring at my scar again.
She looks over at me and furrows her eyebrows. “No. Close your eyes,” she says sternly.
So I smile and I shut my eyes again.
Shayla runs her fingertips lightly along the slightly raised skin.
I feel her cool breath running down my arm.
And then she runs her lips up and down the scar.
I lift my head up to look at her.
Shayla smiles sheepishly up at me.
And I smile warmly back.
Shayla scoots herself up further to me and rests a soft little kiss on my lips.
She’s pretty much laying on top of me. Her arms are across my chest and her head is resting on her arms.
I lean up a little to close the small space between us again.
Shayla smiles and brushes some hair out of my face.
I smile back.
Shayla rolls off of me and rests her head against my arm.
I’m still smiling at her.
She tilts her head slightly and smiles a sleepy little smile.
With the hand she’s not laying on, I use my finger to trace the side of her face gently.
I’ve seen it done in movies before.
Shayla closes her eyes still smiling. “…You are my sunshine,” she begins to sing in a low, broken voice.
The dim lamplight casts faint shadows across the soft planes of her cheeks. “My only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray.” Shayla bites her lip and nuzzles into my arm.
“You’ll never know, dear,” I sing with her. “How much I love you…”
Shayla giggles drowsily on the ‘love you’ part.
“Please don’t take me sunshine away,” we finish together.
I was almost whispering during that last part.
“…Shayla’s gonna go night-night now…” she mumbles to my arm.
I twirl a piece of Shayla’s hair in my fingers.
Because that’s another thing I’ve seen in movies.
And tonight I’m not retarded – but I’m a poet instead.
“Good night, Shayla,” I whisper to her.
“…Goodnight, love…”
And then her breathing slows.
I smile sleepily down at her until I doze off, too.
I forgot to feed Ginny.
…
Oh well.
She’s a smart dog.
Maybe she’ll raid the fridge.