Are You Just Bad News?

I was reaching, my arms outstretched for something. Anything. It was so far, but so close to me, hidden in the shadows of an unknown world.

Something mewed below me, and I looked down to see the little cream cat, with the familiar brown eyes. The cat meowed in anticipation, the whiskers twitching and it almost…smiled at me.

I was still reaching, waiting to grasp the anything I needed, why did this feel so far beyond my reach? What was stopping me?

I bit my lip and tried a little bit more.

What was I reaching for? Why did I want this so bad? I could reach for anything within my grasp; keep a close lock on the objects I knew could keep me safe. But for some reason I wanted this so badly, that I was willing to stand here like a complete fool – still waiting to get it.

Why do I do this to myself?
And what was that noise?

I was abruptly awoken, my heartbeat escalating to new heights inside my chest as I sat up immediately, looking around.

The noise was coming from my side table, the vibrations of my phone on the wooden surface made the most obnoxious noise.

I yawned as I reached for it and flipped it open, “Hullo?”

“Hey babe,” his sweet voice said. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“I suppose so,” I mumbled, looking around at my bed, seeing the drawing I was working on for class in front of me. It was a picture of a girl (or someone) reaching for an unknown object, hidden in the shadows beyond them. I had already done the smoky, dark shadows, and the hand reaching inside of it. That was a majority of the drawing. The arm was easy, since it was just 2 parallel lines coming from the hand. And I had done part of the body, but the head was my toughest piece to accomplish.

My eyes landed on the clock on the other side table and saw the time, interrupting the beginning of Jeff’s story to exclaim: “You’re 2 hours late!”

He sighed, “I know, I’m sorry. I overslept. How are you though?”

“Fine,” I muttered. “Fell asleep while I did homework, waiting.”

“Honey, don’t be mad,” he pleaded. “I didn’t mean to oversleep. It was an accident. I won’t be late again.”

I sighed. I gave in too easily. “Promise?”

“I do,” he said, and I could hear the hint of a smile in his voice. “So anything else happen today?”

“No. I had class and uh…oh! I stopped by at Mike’s job to say hello before I came in. And then uh…made dinner for one.”

That wasn’t all that had happened. When I came in, William had jogged past me up the stairs and even said hello. He didn’t smile, didn’t hug me, and it’s not like I was expecting him to. I just…I don’t know. Now you see why I didn’t want to voice this to Jeff.

“That’s nice. Today we talked about the royalty in France and I had a test in Further Exploration of the French Language.”

“Oh, how do you think you did?” I asked, politely.

“Pretty good. I’ve mastered French enough by now, after all those classes in Michigan and outside lessons.”

I chuckled, “Yeah, you should be a French connoisseur by now.”

“Absolutely,” he joked. “I’ve gotten into talks with some of the French locals here, and some of them don’t even realize that I’m American.”

“Oh, well, I guess that’s good then. Oh! Did you find out when you should have off?”

Jeff and I were planning for him to come spend some time with me in Illinois when his school let him off for vacation.

“Uh,” he said, a bit of something in his voice. Fear? Uneasiness? “No…not yet.”

“Well find out and we can schedule something to get you over here,” I said, automatically smiling at the mere idea of having Jeff here to actually talk to, face-to-face, cuddle, hug, kiss, etc.

“Absolutely honey cakes,” Jeff said, and I heard a door open in the background on his end, and then a female voice say something in French. “But I’ve gotta go, I’ll call you again later, all right?”

“Sure,” I said, my smile faltering a little now that he had to leave. It felt like our conversation was so short! “Have a great day.”

“Sleep tight,” he told me, said he loved me, and we got off the phone.

I sighed as I tossed the crappy cellular device back to its rightful place on the stand and looked down at my rather peculiar drawing.

My thumb and pointer finger were black from all the shading, but after conversing with Andy about my project, we agreed that it needed to be done. Andy had taken this course already last year, and was finishing up his last year in school.

Come to think of it, I never thought about if Mike, William, or Adam/Sisky went to school still. Or if they ever did in the first place. I knew they were at least 21, because they had all that alcohol at their party. A mere two or three years older than me is what that would make them. But what did Adam do? Or William? I knew they did the whole band thing, but didn’t they do anything else?

I made a mental note to ask Mike later, looked back down at my drawing and pushed it aside as I slipped under the covers and went back to sleep.