Everything Is Alright
Facts and Late-Night Therapy
We both stood in front of the bed, kind of just staring at it.
“Well?” she asked, motioning to it.
“Right.” I went to lie down on the side closer to the wall. She turned out the lights and laid down on the other side, as far away as possible while still staying on the bed. Well. This was sufficiently awkward. I glanced sideways at her.
What if…
No.
I pushed those thoughts out of my head. She doesn’t like you like that, I reminded myself. I rolled onto my side to face the wall and pulled the covers closer around me. She pulled them back. I pulled them back a little and settled for a small corner of the covers.
***********************************************************************************************
I closed the cabinet, bottle in hand. My parent’s favorite wine. Hopefully they wouldn’t miss it. I heard a creak and stopped for a second. It was my imagination. I made my way to the front door and closed it quietly behind me. I didn’t lock it. I had forgotten my keys again. I looked into the dark street and squinted to see the time on my watch. One a.m. I glanced around anxiously. Where was he? It was chilly out here. Just then, his car pulled up right in front of me. I opened the door and got in.
“Hey,” Justin said.
“Hey. How was your night?” I asked. He started driving.
“Oh, just great,” he said. I picked up on the sarcasm. “Went on a movie date with some girl that skates after work,” he explained conversationally. “Had no idea what the fuck was going on. Didn’t know what the hell she was talking about half the time.” I let out a small laugh at that. “Went home and watched re-runs of Night Court on cable.”
“And how did that make you feel?” I teased.
“Betty…” he moaned. “We said no more late-night therapy. It kills me,” he exaggerated.
“I was only kidding, Justin,” I said hastily.
“Promise me. No more psychology-major shit?” I rolled my eyes.
“Promise. But you owe me one.” We parked on a mostly empty street near a park. We walked to a secluded corner of a park to sit. I brought the bottle with.
We laid down in the grass. I opened the bottle and passed it to him. He took a drink and passed it back. I figured I wouldn’t get in much trouble if we were ever caught. Besides, I was almost 21 and Justin already was. We quietly passed the bottle back and forth for awhile. I decided I probably wouldn’t be missed at home, either.
“I'm through with school,” he said, somewhat randomly.
“Seriously?” He nodded. I didn’t question him any further. “I’ll miss you.”
“I'm not going anywhere,” he slurred. “I’ll just stay here and work for ‘the Man’ the rest of my life.” I listened quietly. He went on. “It’s like…I thought I could handle everything and carry on, or whatever.” I looked at the sky. “Turns out I’m barely holding on.” I got cold all of a sudden and shivered. What he said scared me a little.
“You owe me a promise… “I began. “Promise…promise that…you’ll keep holding on.” He was quiet. “For me.” He was still quiet. “Justin?”
“I promise,” he said. I felt drowsy as I took another long drink from the bottle.
I suddenly woke up, forgetting why I wasn’t in my own bed in my own room. Oh, yeah. Now I remembered. You moved in with Justin, stupid. And your room smells like paint. You can’t sleep in there. Duh. And you're just having these stupid flashback dreams again. I relaxed. Then I realized Justin’s arms were wound tightly around my waist. His legs were overlapped with mine and I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, breathing in and out at a steady pace.
He was totally spooning me. I slowly untangled myself from him. He moved in his sleep. I stopped, not wanting to wake him. I waited a few more seconds.
“Fuck, Betty. I’m not going to rape you,” he mumbled, half asleep. He rolled over, facing the wall. He had a point. I went back to my side of the bed. I pulled the covers with me. I felt him pull them back before falling back asleep again.
“Well?” she asked, motioning to it.
“Right.” I went to lie down on the side closer to the wall. She turned out the lights and laid down on the other side, as far away as possible while still staying on the bed. Well. This was sufficiently awkward. I glanced sideways at her.
What if…
No.
I pushed those thoughts out of my head. She doesn’t like you like that, I reminded myself. I rolled onto my side to face the wall and pulled the covers closer around me. She pulled them back. I pulled them back a little and settled for a small corner of the covers.
***********************************************************************************************
I closed the cabinet, bottle in hand. My parent’s favorite wine. Hopefully they wouldn’t miss it. I heard a creak and stopped for a second. It was my imagination. I made my way to the front door and closed it quietly behind me. I didn’t lock it. I had forgotten my keys again. I looked into the dark street and squinted to see the time on my watch. One a.m. I glanced around anxiously. Where was he? It was chilly out here. Just then, his car pulled up right in front of me. I opened the door and got in.
“Hey,” Justin said.
“Hey. How was your night?” I asked. He started driving.
“Oh, just great,” he said. I picked up on the sarcasm. “Went on a movie date with some girl that skates after work,” he explained conversationally. “Had no idea what the fuck was going on. Didn’t know what the hell she was talking about half the time.” I let out a small laugh at that. “Went home and watched re-runs of Night Court on cable.”
“And how did that make you feel?” I teased.
“Betty…” he moaned. “We said no more late-night therapy. It kills me,” he exaggerated.
“I was only kidding, Justin,” I said hastily.
“Promise me. No more psychology-major shit?” I rolled my eyes.
“Promise. But you owe me one.” We parked on a mostly empty street near a park. We walked to a secluded corner of a park to sit. I brought the bottle with.
We laid down in the grass. I opened the bottle and passed it to him. He took a drink and passed it back. I figured I wouldn’t get in much trouble if we were ever caught. Besides, I was almost 21 and Justin already was. We quietly passed the bottle back and forth for awhile. I decided I probably wouldn’t be missed at home, either.
“I'm through with school,” he said, somewhat randomly.
“Seriously?” He nodded. I didn’t question him any further. “I’ll miss you.”
“I'm not going anywhere,” he slurred. “I’ll just stay here and work for ‘the Man’ the rest of my life.” I listened quietly. He went on. “It’s like…I thought I could handle everything and carry on, or whatever.” I looked at the sky. “Turns out I’m barely holding on.” I got cold all of a sudden and shivered. What he said scared me a little.
“You owe me a promise… “I began. “Promise…promise that…you’ll keep holding on.” He was quiet. “For me.” He was still quiet. “Justin?”
“I promise,” he said. I felt drowsy as I took another long drink from the bottle.
I suddenly woke up, forgetting why I wasn’t in my own bed in my own room. Oh, yeah. Now I remembered. You moved in with Justin, stupid. And your room smells like paint. You can’t sleep in there. Duh. And you're just having these stupid flashback dreams again. I relaxed. Then I realized Justin’s arms were wound tightly around my waist. His legs were overlapped with mine and I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, breathing in and out at a steady pace.
He was totally spooning me. I slowly untangled myself from him. He moved in his sleep. I stopped, not wanting to wake him. I waited a few more seconds.
“Fuck, Betty. I’m not going to rape you,” he mumbled, half asleep. He rolled over, facing the wall. He had a point. I went back to my side of the bed. I pulled the covers with me. I felt him pull them back before falling back asleep again.