Hazy Days

"Victoria," someone shakes me. "Wake up."

I'm pulled out of my sleep to find Joel staring intently at me. "What, Joel?" My voice is scratchy and I rub my eyes. I also realize that Joel is trying very, very hard to control his anger.

"Where is he?"

"Who?"

"He's still here, isn't he? Hiding somewhere?" he hasn't spoken above a whisper. I sit up now, throwing the blanket off me.

"What are you talking about?"

Joel springs up at this, sprinting out the door. I follow him into the hallway. "I know you're here, you bastard," he opens up the bathroom door, then slams it shut. "You think you could just fuck my girl and I wouldn't notice? Huh?" He opens the closet door, but only finds a few towels and linen.

"Knock it off, Joel. There's no one here but us," he turns to me, then, and strikes me across the face. He grabs my shoulders and pushes me against the wall. My head hits a picture frame and I hear it hit the ground and the glass smash.

"Was he better than me?" he whispers, almost lovingly. One hand releases my shoulder and his finger strokes the cheek where he hit me. "I can smell him, Victoria."

And I can smell you, Joel. I can smell the whiskey on your breathe, the smoke, the dried sweat on you. But instead I say, "You just need to sleep, Joel."

He chuckles once. "You're a goddamn slut, aren't you?"

"Please, Joel. Let's just go to bed." Joel doesn't respond. His eyes are having trouble focusing on me and I can't begin to guess what he's on. "You need some sleep," I tack on softly.

"I need some sleep," he repeats uncertainly, like he's testing out a foreign language. His grip slowly loosens and I grab his hand. "Victoria, are we going to bed?" His expression is that of a lost child and I might have found it cute once, but now it irritates me.

"Yes, Joel. We're going to bed and in the morning you're going to forget any of this ever happened." I take off his shoes and jacket and push him back onto the mattress. He nods thoughtfully. I draw up the covers around him and grab my pillow. I don't plan on sleeping near him. The last time I did, when he had just come back from a party a few nights ago, I woke up with a split lip. Joel began rambling about a sailor he once knew, but calls me when I shut off the light.

"You're not sleeping in here? With me?" Whacked out of his mind as he is, he looks so innocent, and it breaks my heart. I sigh and take my place next to him. He wastes no time attaching himself to me. "I love you, Victoria," he murmurs into my ear. "I know you don't believe it. But I do. And I just want to make you happy." Like most other nights, I cry until every bone in my body is tired. That, and Joel's snores, put me right to sleep.