Down Low

I woke up to the smell of smoked maple bacon. I smiled to myself, stretching out and thankful for the great night’s sleep. After getting out of bed, I walked towards the full length mirror and found that I was in last night’s clothes. It was then that I realized, when the fuck did I even get home? The next thought disturbed me. How did I get home? Robbie was probably waiting downstairs, pacing back and forth going over what he was going to say to me, like he used to whenever mum would return after a big fight. I have pictures of us when I was little, stuffed in a black painted shoe box I hid underneath my new bed. We looked happy. He seemed to be my best friend, my confidante.

I don’t know who the fuck he is anymore. Who she is anymore. Who I am.

I took in a deep breath and silently padded my way down the hallway, towards the staircase. As it neared, I heard a mix of voices. There were a few male voices. Maybe three? And there was most definitely a woman down there. Was this some kind of intervention? Because I just got here and that would be complete bullshit.

I followed the stream of voices towards the kitchen door, where I was greeted by a boy about my age. He was tall and built, and not in the overly muscularly way neither. We stared at each other in surprise for a moment before he broke the silence.

“They don’t know, so don’t say anything stupid. You got sick and were lost on your way back. You owe me big time.” And with that he walked away towards the bathroom. I watched him, flustered. So he brought me home? I mean I was grateful…and all, yeah, but what the fuck. Who is that? He could’ve at least given me a name before stalking off like a pretentious prick. Whatever. At least he’s attractive.