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Serious Leigh (Literal Leigh Romance Diaries Book 2)

Page 3

by Melanie James


  I spotted a yellow cab on the corner and hurried along the sidewalk to catch it. I’m convinced taxis around the country are required to use the same incense laced air fresheners. It’s nothing you would be able to find in any auto parts store. It’s an odd combination of sandalwood, citrus, and the lingering smell of onions. As long as I’m on the topic of air fresheners, we all know they don’t really freshen anything. They normally mix with whatever putrid smell is hanging in the air, creating a whole new horrid scent. The bathrooms in gas stations that spray a cloud of citrus down upon the latest guest always leaves a new combination scent for the next visitor. And there is nothing quite like the disgusting smell of shitrus.

  I told the driver the name of the hotel that I had made reservations at, and we were on our way. I reached down and unwrapped the first brownie. Luna had been sitting in my bag with her head sticking out one side and her tail hanging out of the other. She looked at the brownie and then at me. Her big eyes were pleading for something to eat and then she began to cry. It was pretty effective, too. I broke a decent chunk of the brownie off and gave it to her. She quickly took the tasty treat and disappeared into the depths of the bag. All I could think about was eating the brownie, I didn’t even care that I would have an excuse to go purse shopping. I imagined it would look pretty bad after Luna made use of it as her personal food dish.

  Now, I have heard so many women scolding their men about wolfing down food, just as most women try to never publicly display the scene that unfolded next. It was that natural phenomenon. The fact is, if you leave a hungry girl alone with a giant, fresh baked piece of heaven, she will descend on it like a school of piranhas devouring an unfortunate bathing cow in a furious maelstrom of fins, tails, and blood. In no time I was licking the sweet chocolate remains from my fingers. I thought, why stop there? I grabbed another brownie and wolfed it down. It was an extreme move, but really, we’ve all done it before.

  I arrived at the hotel and quickly checked in. I set my bag on the bed and opened it, but nothing happened. I was very surprised that Luna hadn’t sprung out, as I expected her to. I peered into my bag and there she was, curled up and purring. I thought it would be a good idea to make sure she had her box ready, so I set up the little foil pan and filled it with litter. I picked her up and laid her limp body on the bed. She rolled onto her back and made several very slow swatting motions with her paws. I was trying to comprehend what she was doing and I suddenly realized I had been staring at her for what seemed like hours.

  I looked at my watch and saw I had only been in my room for a few minutes. The whole world had slowed down. I began to feel dizzy, or at least something similar to feeling dizzy, and a little sick to my stomach. The inside of my mouth felt like it had been salted and dried in the desert sun. All at once it felt like my brain had decided to start playing hopscotch. Things just didn’t make sense. I was having some sort of psychotic break that I had never experienced before. The next feeling that came over me was hunger. This was the kind of hunger that must be what starvation feels like. The rest of the brownies cured my cravings.

  Then it was if time stood still. I was really worried that this was another witchcraft problem. I was utterly convinced I was going to be in that state for the rest of my life. I felt nervous, but at the same time I was shifting into an odd euphoria. I felt so strange. I decided lying down on the bed would be my best bet for survival. I laid there staring at the textured pattern on the ceiling. I remembered watching a news story about bedbug infestations at hotels. I started to scratch myself. I could feel them! I believed that an invisible plague of tiny bedbugs had swarmed over my entire body. They were drilling into my skin! I could picture it. Dead certain I saw a construction crew of little bugs jackhammering into my leg, I swatted at them. Luna laid next to me and continued to swat at something in the air. Fireflies!

  I rolled onto the floor to escape the bedbug army. To add to the strangeness, the clock radio came off the nightstand when I crashed on to the floor. The radio began to play a classic rock song. Apparently I’m cursed by random oldies for my personal soundtrack. The song was the 1970’s hit, Dust in The Wind. If you’ve never heard the lyrics, all you need to know is it is probably the biggest buzzkill song ever written. It answers the question pondered by history’s greatest philosophers. What happens to us when we die? What are we really? And according to this song the answer is: “All we are is dust in the wind.”

  The lyrics soaked into my mind and I then realized I had died. This was the end. This is what it meant to be dead. I had a very anxious moment when I thought about how I felt like I was the only person that existed on some strange planet, and I was dead. It was like my soul had been ripped out of me and then pulled over me like a blanket. I was just contemplating the origin of blankets and who invented them when I looked up and saw the phone on the edge of the nightstand. I pulled it down and read the little label under the keypad. Dial 0 for Front Desk. I looked at Luna and said, “Seriously? That’s what they call it? Well played, God! Front Desk. I like that.” I decided I had to dial zero for the front desk and let them know they had another dead person checked in and waiting.

  “Front Desk, Jesus speaking.” This of course was the Spanish given name pronounced hay-zeus.

  “Ahh, Jesus. I get it! Nice idea to use the Spanish version of your name. So, the Christians had it right all along?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I hope it’s okay. I didn’t mean any offense. I was raised Jewish, and there isn’t a whole lot you can do about that is there? Well, I mean except in your case. Your honor.” I started giggling uncontrollably.

  “Is there anything I can do for you, ma’am?”

  “Yes, well, I am just calling to let you know I understand now. I’m dead. It’s fine. I get it, so go ahead and teleport me or whatever you do next.”

  “Ma’am, I’ve got a lot of other guests to take care of here tonight. If you don’t mind, please don’t bother me with your problems.”

  “Oh, what happened? Plane crash? You know I was going to take a plane today. Did I take a plane that actually crashed and that’s how I died? And I just think I got a hotel room?”

  “Listen lady. I am getting pretty sick of all of you tourists that come here to sample the latest strains. Now go to sleep or whatever, but don’t call me anymore. Damn legalization.” The loud smack told me he had slammed the receiver down and ended the call.

  Luna rolled off the bed and landed on top of me. “Oh my God! Oh my God! I just pissed off Jesus and he hung up on me! I have to call someone. I wonder if I can contact the living.” I actually waited for Luna to respond, but she just stared at me with her eyes wide open.

  Chapter Four

  Phone Call from Beyond

  I got up and grabbed my phone from the tote. Who should I call once I find out I’m dead? Or should I just text them? I was perplexed at my contacts list and realized I should have a separate list of who to call when I’m dead. These are the sort of things that one should take care of while still alive, like life insurance. I looked through the names and saw my parents’ number. “Oh God, no! I can’t handle my mother, right now.” Then I saw Hunter’s number. “Aww, Hunter. I am going to really miss him. I never even had the chance to have sex with him.”

  “Meow.”

  “You think I should call him?”

  “Meow. Meow.”

  Panic was again coming over me, and I seemed to be struggling to keep from being dragged down in an undertow from a giant wave of insanity. I held onto Luna and kissed the top of her head. “I’m sorry, I got us killed. Don’t you have at least one of your nine lives left?”

  I looked at Hunter’s contact number glowing on my phone. I had to exert actual physical force to get my finger to make the call.

  “Hey, Leigh! How are you doing? What’s up?”

  “Hi, Hunter. I have some bad news, I’m dead.”

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  “Yep. Dead. I think it was
a plane crash. Now everything is weird. Time is standing completely still here, wherever I am. Oh, and I pissed off Jesus something fierce.”

  “Leigh! Listen, I don’t know what’s wrong. Are you drunk or something? Did you hit your head?”

  “Of course not! I told you that I’m dead, and I’m in Denver of all places. Oh, and Luna is with me.”

  “Luna? Denver? As in Denver, Colorado? What the hell?”

  “Yep! That’s the place you go to. Who would have thought? What really sucks is I never got to have sex with you before I died. I was really looking forward to that.”

  “Listen, Leigh, I need to ask you something. Is there any special medication you may have forgotten to take today?”

  “Nooooooo, I don’t think so.”

  “Okay. Good. Now, what did you have to eat or drink today?”

  “Water and a little nibble of a brownie.” I lied my ass off because I pictured myself wolfing down those brownies in the taxi. I just didn’t want to share that image with Hunter.

  “Well, I can’t imagine anything happening from that.” There was nothing but silence and then Hunter came up with a possibility. “You said a brownie. Where exactly did you get that brownie?”

  “Just a bakery. Bob MacMarley was trying to hog them for himself, but he ended up giving them to me. It was really weird.” I was struggling to focus on Hunter’s question. “Kilts. I just don’t get kilts. You don’t wear a kilt, do you?”

  “Um, no, I’ve never even gave it a thought. Why?”

  “I have no idea, but I’m starving now.” I reached into the bag of snacks I picked up. I knew I wanted to have something a little bit healthier than brownies, so I grabbed some of the honey granola and some trail mix. With the trail mix, you can fool people into thinking you’re eating something healthy, but you are really just picking out the chocolate. I started munching on the granola like I was a squirrel that stuffs its face with seeds. “Hmmph,” I tried to continue speaking as bits of granola peppered the phone.

  “Anyway, Leigh, I think I know what that brownie was. Marijuana is legal there and they sell certain foods that are loaded with it. It doesn’t make much sense that you could have gotten one of those, though. I’m pretty sure you would have had to go into a special store and showed your ID. I mean, you would have known what it was. What about that bakery you went to? You said the guy just gave some brownies to you?”

  “Um Hm, crunch, crunch, crunch. Fo Fee.”

  “My guess is that he gave you some pot brownies. That guy was probably selling them without going through whatever legal system they have. You know, selling them illegally. You probably ate more than you realize.”

  I washed down the granola with a warm soda. “Hell, I ate all four! They were good, too! Even Luna had a little.” Oops.

  Hunter was clearly tapping away on his computer and laughing. “Leigh, you have all the symptoms of a pot overdose! I just looked it up. And those brownies were probably meant for a whole group of people. You’ve had something like sixteen or even twenty times the normal amount meant for one person! Jesus!”

  “Oh, Jesus, you can catch him by dialing zero from my room. I wouldn’t bother him now. He seems really busy and irritated. Wait, what did you just say about those brownies? Seriously! So, I’m not dead! Wow! Now I know why MacMarley said they were already paid for. He thought I was someone else that had been sent to pick up the brownies.”

  “From everything I’ve read here, it is harmless. Your brain is just flipping out. The best thing you can do is just go to sleep. I also read that the effects from edible marijuana products could last several hours. Try not to think too much.”

  “This has just been one hell of a day. I think you’re right, I need to sleep. I’m afraid to though. My head feels like it is buzzing. I’ll never fall asleep, though. I’ll just lay in a fetal position and worry about things like garden gnomes. And the fact that I can add drug mule to my résumé.”

  “Okay. Well, how about we just talk? I won’t make you think too hard. You tell me whatever comes to mind and I’ll listen. If you want to ask me anything, go ahead.”

  “I would absolutely love that. I wish you were here, though.” Something very naughty crossed my mind. Or I should say it came into my mind, looked around, and vanished. I absentmindedly grabbed for more granola. I damn near broke my teeth on it. “Pleth!” I sprayed out the granola. “What the hell! This isn’t granola! Its trail mix and it tastes like absolute shit. Yuck. And it’s like pieces of rock!” I looked at the handful and my brain told me I should pick out the chocolate, but all I had was dry little chunks of granola. “It smells like my mom’s perfume!”

  “Leigh! Wait. Double check what you’re eating.”

  “Oh. My. God.” I was shocked at what I had done. I looked at the bag of trail mix and saw I hadn’t opened it. I had just scooped up a handful of kitty litter out of the bag. I had actually tried to eat kitty litter! Thank God I hadn’t gotten a handful out of the litter box. Before I could wonder if perhaps that is what I had actually done, Hunter started laughing at the situation and that got me laughing about it.

  “So, tell me more about how you were looking forward to having sex with me.”

  “Oh, God! Can you read minds, too?”

  Hunter let the sex conversation pass by and we talked for almost two hours. I told him about every scatterbrained thing that came to mind, and he told me about his family and all of the places he had traveled to. I was so grateful to have someone to talk to. I was finding out more and more about Hunter. I was relieved he wasn’t just another hottie that sported a false persona just to get a girl interested. You know the type of guy I’m talking about. They make you feel like the people on those TV shows about antiques. Some young woman happily unveils her newfound prize only to find out it is not only worthless, but an intentional fake. Surprise! That Mr. Right you just found is actually a full time social work project. So far Hunter seemed genuine. Who else would be willing to listen to some rambling nonsense from a girl barely hanging on to reality?

  At some point in our conversation I had to cough up some sort of explanation for my unplanned stay in Denver. Hunter had never questioned me, but I knew it was an odd situation that would just have to make him wonder about me. As the effects of the brownies dissipated, I was able to come up with a plausible reason for my quick trip to Colorado. I told him I had signed up for a one day education conference in Denver.

  Being deceitful to Hunter made me feel like crap, but I don’t think I had much of a choice. If I would have brought up magic and the witches union, he would think it wasn’t just the brownies messing me up. I might as well show up at his police academy graduation in a straightjacket. In the end I can say I really loved talking to him, even though my brain didn’t always join in. Finally, I felt extremely sleepy and we said our goodbyes. That night Luna curled up and slept on top of me. She had never done that before.

  I laid in the bed and wondered about the witches union. I was more than a little worried about what I could have possibly gotten myself mixed up in, especially since they made a point to tell me that they would be making certain suggestions for the story I started to write. I became convinced they had something much larger than a good story planned. Maybe it was time to step away from the witchcraft, but I knew somehow that wasn’t going to be an option.

  Chapter Five

  Aftermath

  When I woke up, I immediately had a sense of dread about facing Hunter. I had zero experience with marijuana, and even if I had, it wouldn’t have prepared me for ingesting enough of it to stone my entire neighborhood. I remembered everything, although parts of it seemed more like I had dreamt it. My idea to call Hunter was a remarkably bad decision, even for me. Okay, it was downright stupid. I just wanted to be home, in my own bed. At least I wasn’t dealing with a hangover, so that was a huge plus.

  I sat with my head in my hands and hoped I could find a way to just forget that any of it had ever happened. There were a few ti
mes I actually found myself speaking out loud. “Hunter! Ugh!” Finally I found a way to deal with it. And it wasn’t by memorizing a viral Facebook meme. That morning was not a time for that kind of talk. No, you can just disregard all of those little tidbits of advice you hear about facing your issues and dealing with your problems. I am referring to those positive little memes that the Bubblers post all over Facebook. They sound really good and they are often quotes by someone you feel like everyone knows, except you. So you google them, like I sometimes do.

  Sometimes optimism and positivity are best applied to other things, like diets or stress reduction. You know those little resolutions you’ve already subconsciously decided that there is a 95% chance they will fail anyway. I have no appetite for having to deal with an issue that reminds you that you’ve made a complete ass of yourself in front of the one person you want to impress the most. The only choice for you is to try to not think about it, ever. Bury the seething memory away, like you are hiding a body. If it should be brought up, go to the most extreme measures to change the topic, even if it requires you drop to the ground and fake a case of acute appendicitis.

  Surprisingly, my trip home was uneventful. As I considered how things had been going lately, I was mentally prepared for a complete disaster. When the taxi dropped me off in front of my apartment, I don’t think I had ever been happier to finally be home, and for an elementary school teacher, that says a lot.

  I let Luna loose so she could sneak from room to room, as if she thought it was too good to be true. I was pretty sure that after the trip she was just on, she didn’t trust her senses one bit. “It’s okay, Luna kitty. We’re really home now. And I promise no more magic spells or magic brownies.” Luna arched her back and made an ugly hiss at me before she disappeared into the shadows. “Damn it, one step forward and two steps back with you. You were finally starting to act like a regular cat instead of a damn wild opossum, or raccoon, or—whatever. Ungrateful bitch!” Of course, she really did have a reason to be mad. After all, I did whisk her thousands of miles away, drug her, take her to a hotel, and make her use a foil turkey roasting pan for a toilet.

 

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