Coffee and Cigarettes

Maybe...maybe it was all a bad dream. Maybe none of this existed and none of it was real. Was it possible that I'd fallen asleep and this was all a figment of my imagination?

I started to convince myself that I was living in a nightmare. A very vivid nightmare and I'd just forgotten when I'd fallen asleep. It would be over soon anyway, right?

"Libby," Blair said, still furious. "We're going over to your house and we're going to get the police."

"Police?" I asked, confused. "Why do we need the police? I hate the bastard too, but it isn't like he raped anyone."

But all of a sudden, Blair's expression changed. Her eyes darkened and were filled with sorrow. "I remember," she began, "that I left my drink by the bar, unattended. I was talking to one of my friends and then when I turned around the get my drink, he was standing there. He...He flirted with me, I flirted back. I thought it was harmless, you know?"

She chuckled bitterly at the thought. Libby and I exchanged glances.

"Use your imaginations to find out what happens next," Blair said solemnly. "You never leave your drink unattended in a nightclub. I wish I'd remembered that sooner."

My eyes were brimming with tears. "Blair..." I whimpered. "I thought that...when we found you...when you and Jon had sex that it was consensual."

Blair shook her head. "He drugged me and then he..." she then spat it out, "...he raped me. He was the one who gave me this...disease."

Libby looked like she was choking on her words. "Th-that man is having an affair with my mother," she finally managed.

"Are you sure?" Blair asked in a hushed whisper.

Libby shrugged. "Well, not a hundred percent, but...it sure seems like it."

"Come on," I finally managed to say. "Let's go to your house."

The three of us crept up to Libby's front door and she gulped before pushing the door open. As we passed the threshold, we noticed something.

The house was quiet.

Too quiet.

"Mom?" Libby called out. "Mom, where are you?" We walked along the hallway and Libby instantly said, "The bedroom. Check the bedroom."

We all tiptoed up the stairs and crawled down the hallway towards her parents' bedroom. We finall reached the door, peered in and saw...

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

No one was there, the room was clean and tidy. "I don't get it," Blair scratched her head. "Where's your mom?"

"Right here," came a voice from behind us. We all jumped slightly and turned to see Jane with her arms folded over her chest. "What were you girls doing?"

"W-Well," I stammered. "We...uh...where's the guy who came here?"

"James?" Jane asked, surprised. "He's the man who came in to look at the water heater. Why? What's this all about?"

"James?" Blair whispered to me. "Doesn't she mean Jon?"

"Nevermind," I whispered back. "Sorry to bother you, Jane. We'll be leaving now."

As Blair and I left the house (Libby had stayed behind, she did live there, after all), Blair was still pondering over the moments that had preceded. "Something isn't right," she muttered. "She said his name was James."

"Yeah, well maybe Jon isn't the only one with a black BMW," I suggested. "Let's just go home. We'll figure this all out later."

We walked home in silence and waltzed in through the front door.

"Where'd you both go in such a hurry?" my dad asked. "Any especially you, Blair, right after being released from the hospital."

"Dad, I'm not handicapped," Blair snapped. "I may not be in perfect health, but I'm not a cripple, so don't treat me like one."

"Your father just wants to make sure you're okay," my mother said lovingly. "He didn't mean anything rude by it."

"Yeah, whatever..." Blair muttered. "I'm going upstairs." And without another word, Blair marched up to her room and we faintly heard the door slam behind her.

"She's really mad," Bob noted after an elongated period of silence.

"Way to go, Sherlock," I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. There was too much stress going on from all of this...not to mention the fact that tomorrow was Christmas and no one was exactly in the Christmas Spirit.

"I think," I finally said, "I'm going to go for a walk."

"But honey," my mom warned, "it's dark out already. And it's almost dinnertime."

"Just swinging by the park for some fresh air," I shrugged nonchalantly. "I'll be back for dinner. I'll only need about fifteen minutes."

My parents sighed. "Alright," my dad said warily. "But bring your cell phone."

I nodded, grabbed my coat and trotted out the door with my cell phone in my pocket.

It was barely even six o'clock and the stars were already dancing across the sky. It was a beautiful sight to behold. I'll admit that winter isn't exactly my favourite season, but once everything is covered in a sheet of crystal-like snow, it feels sort of...well, calming.

The cold air nipped my nose as I hugged the coat closer to my body. The whirling currents of air rustled up light snowflakes that danced in the air and glistened in the moonlight.

Finally arriving at the park, I merely weaved through the trees and sat down on a bench. Leaning back, I closed my eyes for a minute and sighed. This is all that I need right now, I thought to myself. Solitude.
Then I heard some giggling and rustling from somewhere behind me back where the trees and bushes were, so I turned around casually to take a glimpse and my face fell at what I saw.

Frank and some supermodel-thin incredibly gorgeous blond girl holding hands and smiling fondly at each other. Every now and then, he'd pull her towards him by the waist and give her a small peck on the lips. I quickly averted my eyes so as to not arouse suspicion and got up off of the bench.

"He sure gets over guilt quickly," I mumbled to myself, shoving my fists into my pockets.

Walking down the street towards my house, I glanced at the clock on my phone. I still had about five minutes to spare, so I decided to just lie in the snow. Don't ask why, but it's just fun. I don't bother making snow angels or anything, I just find a patch of untarnished snow and lie in it.

It reminds me of my childhood, something I desperately miss.

Maybe it's just the innocence of childhood...the lack of drama, the oblivious attitude. Kids aren't aware of all the problems that are happening in the world, in their town, in their homes. I miss being able to live a carefree life. I knew for a fact that my life would never be the same.

After a few minutes, I heard the crunching on boots on fresh snow coming towards me. I looked up from my spot and saw Frank with a weak smile plastered on his face. Rolling my eyes, I got up and started to walk away.

"Morgan!" he called out to me. "Morgan, wait!"

I looked back at him. "Go home, Frank," I said quietly. "Just go home." I turned on my heel and kept on walking. I didn't hear him move, I didn't hear him breathe.

As I faded into the distance, he still stood there in the snow, calling out to me.

"Morgan!" I would hear him cry. I just laughed inwardly and trekked on.

I walked through my front door and shook off all the snow. "Just in time for dinner," my mom said happily.

"Yeah," I forced a smile, sitting down at the dinner table.

"What's wrong?" Bob whispered to me, sitting down as well.

"Nothing," I said hastily, poking at the food on my plate with my fork. "It's nothing at all."