When You Are Not the Starring Role In Someone Else's Heart

I couldn't give you details about that.. encounter.. if you put a gun to my head. I don't remember. We went into my room. And the next thing I know I'm waking up in an empty bed with a Post-It note on my forehead and my sheets all in disarray. So, my guess is that we had sex.
I had fun last night, Coy. Well, there was no doubt that we had sex. Otherwise, he wouldn't have had so much fun and I wouldn't have felt so sore. Well, why wouldn't have he just stayed here? He clearly knows the area well enough so I can assume he doesn't live too far. My shower works. I have food. Anything he really could have needed for the morning. Well, whatever. Maybe I can just start fresh, pretend this never happened, and forget about Sequoia... Right after I tell Katrin everything.
Ring, ring ring.. You have reached the voicemail box of "Ka.." I hung up again. Goodness gracious I can't believe she hasn't called me back. I rose from the bed, looking for my clothes. I'm not one to be comfortable walking around naked in my apartment. Everyone's insecure about something, you know? It doesn't matter if I'm in front of a bunch of people or by myself in the dark. I need to be covered. I am nothing like Katrin. When we go to the beach, she can walk around in practically nothing-- a string bikini only covers so much. And I won't take off my cover-up until I absolutely have to get in the water. But anyway, back to the point.
I tried to act as if nothing happened. I took a shower, ate a muffin, read the paper I steal out of the neighbor's mailbox, and then got motivated to get ready for work. Warming up my voice, drinking that nasty herbal tea, then taking a break to pig out with Ho-Ho's. Then, I put my makeup on and stuffed myself into a brown dress I stole from Katrin's closet. Not stole.. borrowed. It was a tad too small for me, but I convinced myself it was only from the Ho-Ho's. I'll just walk to work and that little pudge will just melt right off.
I slipped on the matching brown boots and hit the door. I put my headphones in and started walking down the street. God, I really wasn't in shape. I only walked two blocks and I noticed my breathing getting more heavy and the beads of sweat forming on my forehead. I would have slowed down, but if I didn't walk fast enough I'd be late. Oh, and I almost forgot! My nether-regions are sore! Jesus Christ, if I made it to work on time I'd be the luckiest bitch on the planet.
Out of breath, I made it to the coffee house. Why did I do this? Goddammit, I have to walk all the way home! Nine blocks never seemed like such a long-ass journey.
"What the hell happened to you?!" Bjorn said, laughing.
"I walked here," I said, sitting down on the clean cushioned barstool.
"Car broke down?"
"No, I needed to burn off my love-handles to squeeze into this dress," I said, pinching my waist.
"What love handles?" he said, pinching my waist, as well.
"Aren't you a sweetheart?!" I exclaimed, slapping his hand away. This is what I loved about Bjorn. He was so sweet and nice to me. He was my best friend, right behind Katrin. He was the first person I met in Iceland. I was literally just getting out of the airport and onto the streets of Reykjavik when I saw him handing out flyers for a club he was bartending for. He was also the barista for Of Monsters and Mocha at the time and told me about the opening for a coffeehouse singer. And the rest is history. We've been besties ever since.
"So, are you still coming over Friday, night?" he said, handing me a green tea.
"Oh, right, the housewarming party. Yeah, I'll be there. I still don't think Daniella likes me, though," I said, stirring my tea. Okay, I know she doesn't like me. Daniella is Bjorn's girlfriend. They're highschool sweethearts and have only been with each other. So, when Bjorn told her I was his really good friend, she was all offensive and defensive. She wanted Bjorn to spend less time with me. She was all scared that he was gonna cheat on her the first chance he got because:
A) He wasn't bad looking. Whatsoever.
B) He's only slept with one girl his entire life.
C) He's pretty darn cute.
But if she really knew Bjorn, she'd know that he's the most loyal, faithful guy in the universe.
"Of course she does! She thinks you're wonderful!" he said, "It's just that if you were seeing somebody and they were really 'buddy buddy' with some chick, wouldn't you be mad?"
"No, I wouldn't be mad," I said, "Trust is trust."
"Are you saying Daniella doesn't trust me?" See what I mean? She obviously hasn't been trusting him.
"No, that's not what I'm saying."
"Anyways.."
"Can I ask you a question?" I asked, cutting him off, "Why did it take seven years for you two to finally get a real house?"
"Well, we have been together since the eleventh grade. I was seventeen. And now we're finally on our feet and financially secure and we know we can do it," he said, "I know you're not the biggest fan of her, but I really love her. I know it's gonna work."
"I never said that it wasn't," I said, "I was just wondering. That's all."
"By the way, how's your love life?"
"Full of nothingness," I said, sipping my tea, " Although, I really gotta tell you something!"
"Something?"
"... I got laid," I said smiling, "Sequoia.Harvard."
"Coffee house stalker? Ooh-la-la," he said, sarcastically, " Please, don't tell me more. You have to start playing anyway."
"Saved by the bell," I laughed, hopping off the barstool.
The show was nothing special. I played a few songs. Strummed a few strings. Sang a few tunes. People tipped me. They nodded along to the music. Just like every other show. This is what kinda killed me about being stuck. I couldn't stop doing the same things every week. Sing at the coffee shop. Drink with the girls. Drink with the guys. Party. Feel bad about myself. Drink. Sing. Repeat.
"Good show," Bjorn said, handing me my usual post-show latte.
"Good as ever," I said, taking a big gulp, "You mind if I just take this home? It's gonna be a long walk."
"Nah, it's cool. Do you wanna wait a little longer and I'll take you home?"
"No, I wanna walk. Burn off these Ho-Ho's."
"Whatever. Call you later, kay?"
"Kay Kay," I said, turning to leave. I started walking down the street, cursing my decision to wear boots with heels. Block one, I was tired. Block two, I wanted to kill myself. Block three, I was ready to curl up in a ball and die. Then I felt a ping of self accomplishment. And then I realized I had to do this exact journey two more times to make it home. Fuck you, Ho-Ho's. Fuck you, self-pity. And fuck you, Sequoia Harvard! Oh, wait, I already did. Haha!
Those stupid little thoughts are what got me home in one piece. Huffing and puffing down the street, getting funny looks from everybody around, it was the wake up call I really needed. I have to get my ass to a gym. Or join Katrin's pilates class. Or just start jogging.
Hahahahahaha.
I'm not gonna start jogging.
I'm not joining a gym.
Fuck pilates.
But the thought is nice to have anyway.