Talk With Me About the Stars

I found myself face up on an air mattress, in the middle of what appeared to be my living room. I couldn't remember for the life of me, exactly, how I had gotten there. My clothes were gone. My body ached. And there was someone next to me.

It was a boy, for sure; his broad shoulders were exposed from under the white sheets. He was laying face down, turned away from me.

I had a pretty good guess as to why I was naked. But I tried to ignore that thought as I peeled myself from the makeshift bed. On my right was an ashtray with half a cigarette. Re-lighting it, I made my way into the kitchen. Someone I didn’t recognize was making coffee and had decided to use my favorite mug. Bastard.

“And who gave you the right to use my favorite mug?”

He spun around, looking like he was caught sticking his hand in the cookie jar. He stumbled over his words, trying to form an excuse when Sydney came into the kitchen, in all her naked glory.

“Babe, what’s taking so long? Oh- hey Rose.”

“He’s using my favorite mug, Syd.”

She rolled her eyes, slipping on some clothes she pulled from the dryer, “Be nice to our guest, Rose. It’s just a mug, for God’s sake.”

“Well are you going to introduce me to our guest or am I going to have to live with the fact that a complete stranger is using my mug?”

“His name is Thomas and he’s going to be staying here for a couple days,” Sydney smiled up at the guy, making heart eyes as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

“I would hope so if he’s already earned the name ‘Babe’,” I grumbled, searching for a substitute mug to use, “The last Babe didn’t even stay for breakfast.”

“Rose, are you fucking kidding me?” Sydney glared, “Go back to bed if you’re just going to be a bitch.”

“I thought I was being charming,” I deadpanned, filling my cup with coffee, “But I know where I’m not wanted.”

“And put out the cigarette! I thought you quit!” she yelled after me, her nagging fell on dead ears.
I re-entered the living room only this time, the unnamed boy was sitting up, and sheets bunched at his waist, hair a mess, torso bare; he was glorious.

His voice was deep and smooth like fine wine. It made me want to drink him up from the bottom of his toes to the tips of his silky strands.

"I'm sorry, what?"

His smile wasn't any less addictive.

"I said," he cleared his throat, "You shouldn't be smoking. It'll kill ya."

I looked down at the burning cigarette between my fingers and considered this for a moment before deciding I couldn't care less and proceeded to take another drag.

“Rose, I swear to God, if you don’t put that out I will come in there and do it for you,” Sydney was in ride-my-ass mode.

I loved her to death and was currently using one of my infamous “favors” by staying at her place, so I put out the damn cig in my coffee cup; coffee didn’t taste the same in a different mug anyways.
What was supposed to be a few days had, unsurprisingly, turned into a few years. As unpleasant as it was, memories of me being evicted coursed through my mind. I vaguely remember stumbling over to Syd’s place around 2 in the morning, piss drunk, sobbing over my lost apartment. All in all, it wasn’t so much of a loss. The peeling wallpaper and permanent stench of urine wouldn’t be missed.

“I thought you quit?” she entered the room, not batting an eyelash at the strange boy on our airmatress.

“I’m working on it,” I blew out my last breath of smoke, “Who’s this kid?”

“Shouldn’t you know?” Sydney rolled her eyes, which I was getting really irritated with, and went back to Babe, I’m assuming.

“Luke.”

I turned to him, “Excuse me?”

He ran a hand through his already messy hair, “My name is Luke.”

“Nice to meet you, Lucas. Now would you kindly skedaddle out of here? We’ve got shit to do.”

“Invite him to stay for breakfast!”

I really needed to kill Sydney when I got the chance.

“He was just leaving!” I yelled back, hoping he could take a hint and get the hell out of my house.

“Actually, breakfast sounds great,” he smirked, moving to stand in front of me, only the thin sheet covering his lower half.

Apparently he couldn’t.

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“So, Luke,” Sydney smiled, politely cutting her pancakes into bite-sized pieces, “Are you from around here?”

“Kind of, I live on Lake Washington,” he wiped his mouth with his napkin.

“Oh my gosh, you must be rich!” Sydney gasped.

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered, shaking my head.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that…” she smiled apologetically, “I just assumed since…you know-“

“You know what they say about assuming,” I sang.

“I live with my father and I’d say he’s pretty well off,” he smiled, seemingly unoffended.

“You still live with your parents?” I couldn’t hide the disgust in my voice. Great, I fucked a mama’s boy.

“Just my father,” he didn’t seem like he wanted to elaborate on the subject and even I’m not a big enough asshole to push him.

“Rose shouldn’t you be heading to work soon?”

I looked at the clock and sure as shit, I was due into work in about half an hour.

“Well, that’s my cue to leave,” I stood up from the table and went to grab the car keys, but came back empty handed, “Where they hell are the keys?”

“Oh shit, I totally forgot to tell you, I loaned the car to Bailey for the week.”

Leave it to Sydney to trust our one and only car to her dumbass brother.

“Gee what a swell idea, Syd,” I threw my hands up, “and how do you suggest I get to work? Shall I sprout wings and fucking fly?”

“Get over yourself, Rose, Thomas can drive you. Right Thomas?” she smiled at Babe and I knew he only agreed due to the fact that she was handing out free pussy.

“No way in hell am I letting him drive me.”

“Rose, he is offering to drive you-“

“He used my favorite mug, Sydney. You can’t trust people who don’t understand how sacred a mug can be to someone.”

“Jesus Christ, Rose, are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m motherfucking serious! He didn’t even say sorry!”

“Why don’t I drive you?” Luke cut in. The kid had good timing, I gotta hand it to him.

“See, Luke will drive me,” I yanked him from his chair, “Problem solved. While I’m out I expect you to have a serious discussion with Babe about proper mug etiquette. Let’s roll, Lukey.”