by Portia Moore
“You don’t have to do anything, Chris.” He’s caught off guard by the bluntness of my statement.
“You always have a choice in life. You don’t have to do that assignment if you don’t want to. You could crumple up the paper and throw it out the window right now. You could go back and tell her you aren’t going to do it; you can walk away from this doctor and never look back,” I say looking him directly in the eye. I expect him to give some sort of response but he doesn’t, he just shrugs and chuckles. Now I am pissed off.
“Did you want to get something to eat before we hit the highway or wait till we get home?” he asks, yawning quietly. The next moment he rests his head against his arms as they drape over the steering wheel. His sleepy green eyes look downward and a small smile spreads across his face; and, just like that, my anger disappears. He doesn’t want to debate, fight or piss me off, he just wants peace, and I feel a warm calmness spread through my body.
“I can wait,” I say. It’s funny how ridiculous I can be. I was angry for nothing, really.
“But you look tired. Are you sure you’re up for the drive back with no rest?” I ask him.
“I’m good,” he says yawning again and I laugh aloud this time.
“I have an idea and you are under no obligation to say yes if you don’t want to,” I start with a disclaimer. He looks at me apprehensively but I can tell that I’ve piqued his interest
“Our…My house is less than fifteen minutes away,” I continue. His face remains impassive and I take that to be a good omen.
“We could order some food and get a couple of hours of sleep before hitting the road again,” I finish, giving him my most innocent smile.
“You might even be able to knock your homework out in one day,” I say, giving him a little nudge.
“Why not?” he says simply. That was easier than I thought it would be. Sometimes he does surprise me.
Chapter 50
Chris
I’ve only been to Chicago once, that I can remember. I was in high school for a class science trip. So, it was a little eerie that I’m able to drive to Lauren’s house without directions. I want to think it was just a fluke, but honestly, it's more like I'm on auto-pilot. The visit with the doctor really drained me and I just drive without thinking.
Lauren tells me to stop in front of the building addressed 304. I do as she instructs and when I look at it, I’m astonished. There are at least thirty floors and it looks more like an expensive hotel than an apartment building.
“This is it?” I’m sure she has noticed my apprehension. She gives me a nod and a beautiful smile. “Where do I park?” I ask. But before she can respond there’s a guy in a suit near my door.
“He’ll park it,” she says and gestures for me to let down the window.
“Hi James, can you take it around please?” Lauren replies.
“Of course Mrs. Scott,”
“Good evening sir,” he says opening my door.
“How are you?” I’m not really sure how to act.
“Wonderful and you?” he says.
“Great,” I reply looking over at Lauren in disbelief.
“You can get out, it’s in good hands” Lauren’s tone is playful and I notice the man is returning her smile. I feel left out of the joke.
“Do you need any help upstairs?” he asks.
“I’ve got it,” I tell James as I step out of the car.
“Have a great night James,” she says as we head to the entrance of the building.
“What about the keys?” I ask.
“They’ll send them up,” she’s amused by my uncertainty. I follow her into the building and we head to the elevator. This can’t be an apartment building. I feel like I should be paying to walk in.
“This is nice,” I whisper feeling like I’m in a museum.
“You have good taste,” and she winks at me as the elevator closes.
“I picked this place?” I can’t believe that I would pick a place like this. When she presses the button for the thirtieth floor I take a deep breath. I think I might be sick.
“You’d been here a few months before we met,” she smiles at me. It’s a little weird how she’s not saying Cal but me. I put one of my hands on the wall and take a few more deep breaths as the elevator makes its way up.
“Are you okay?” she asks nervously and I nod my head.
“Yeah, I just don’t really like high places,” I say swallowing the sick feeling in my stomach. Her eyes widen in surprise.
“I forgot you’re afraid of heights,” she says covering a laugh.
“I wouldn’t necessarily say afraid, it’s more like I hate them,” I say with a laugh. But I’m going to throw up if we go any higher.
“Well, I may need to get curtains or something then,” she says exiting the elevator when it stops.
“Why is that?”
“You’ll see,” she says with a slight giggle. When she opens the door to the apartment my jaw hits the floor as she turns on the lights.
“This is it,” she says as she closes the door behind her.
She’s watching me, waiting for a response. If I hadn't felt like I walked into someone else’s life before, I definitely do now. Everything in this place screams expensive. For one, it’s huge and even I know that space equals money in the city. There’s a seventy inch television, leather furniture that looks imported, and a kitchen where everything is stainless steel and modern. It looks like a show room or bachelor pad except for the play pen and toys everywhere…
“I’m pissed! Just leave me alone Cal!” Lauren says snatching away from me, but I grab her and push her up against the window, our bodies pressed against each other.
“I don’t think that’s what you want,” I say as my hands go underneath her dress and my fingers slip inside her. She moans as I do.
“Now I know that’s not what you want,” I whisper into her. She reaches down to move my hand but I just move it away with my free hand and push deeper inside her. After a minute she relents, spreading her thighs apart.
“I haven’t seen you in two weeks. You make me sick! I’m not screwing you tonight,” she says bitterly between soft moans.
“Not a problem. I’ll screw you.”
“What do you think?” her voice pulls me out of, I don’t know what to call it, a trance, fantasy or shit! I look at her trying to keep my expression calm and unaffected by the vision I just had. I look at the window, the exact place where I—he held her. It’s been awhile since I’ve had visions this way. Recently, these memory are where I’m a third person watching. This time it’s me, I’m there…doing those things.
“Can I get a glass of water or something?” I ask. My voice is shaky. She looks at me curiously for a minute but then she nods.
“Sure,” she says as she makes her way to the kitchen. I try to forget about what I just saw, how hot her skin was, how good she smelled and felt.
“Kittens, grandma, Spongebob, rats, math,” I mumble trying to think of every turn off I can. When I look up and see her heading towards the spot I just saw her pinned up against, I make a beeline to the couch. She looks a little caught off guard stopping midway.
“Are you okay?” she asks a little nervously.
“I’m good,” I say folding my hands together. She smiles skeptically and hands me the glass of water. I finish it in record time.
“This must be weird, huh?” she asks her voice light but a little shaky. She has no idea, but then again maybe she does.
“A little bit,” I answer, gripping the glass tighter in my hand.
“I guess I need to show you around,” she smiles and sweeps a piece of hair away from her face.
“Cool,” I say.
“Well this is pretty self-explanatory,” she gestures towards the living room and kitchen area.
“There’s a bathroom right there,” she points to what I thought was a closet in the far corner. She heads up the stairs and I follow. Her butt is right at eye level now and I try
not to stare at it. I find myself struggling with the urge to grab it as I follow her every move.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Thank God we’re up the stairs so I’m no longer directly behind her. We walk down the hall to the right and she opens the door.
“Caylen’s room,” she says. She steps aside to let me enter. I do, but only halfway. It’s pink. There’s a rocking chair, a bookcase filled with children's books and glowing stars on the wall and ceiling.
“Cute,” I laugh and she smiles. The next stop is a small bathroom. Then she stops in front of two doors. She hesitates, I hear her sigh before she opens the doors.
“This is my room,” she says quietly. She stands aside so I can go in. It’s really big. Bigger than my room. There are floor to ceiling windows lining the entire left side and a door to a patio. In the center of the room is a gigantic bed. I recognize the black ceiling fan from that dream, or maybe not so much a dream. On the right side of the room I see double doors I imagine to be the closet and a single door I assume is the bathroom.
“This is a really nice place,” I admit stuffing my hands in my pocket.
“Yeah, thanks,” she sort of laughs then shakes her head.
“You chose everything in this apartment, well almost...even me,” she chuckles. Then her expression shatters.
“Bad joke, really bad joke” she says covering her face.
“No it wasn’t that bad, maybe work on your delivery a little,” I joke, touching her hands and moving them away from her face.
Don’t ever hide that beautiful face from me again.
The moment is brief but I just saw her sitting a table in a diner, her hands over her face, just the way they were now, but he was the one removing them.
“Are you going to let go?” she whispers, and I wonder how long I’ve been holding her hands.
“I’m sorry,” I say, stepping away from her. I feel like an idiot.
“What just happened, Chris?” she asks apprehensively.
“Nothing, I just...” I stumble over my words but she’s obviously not buying it. She just sighs a little.
“I’m going to order some food. Chinese okay?” she asks, moving from the space we just shared in the doorway.
“Yeah, that’s great,” and before I can even finish my statement, she’s heading down the stairs.
Ugh, that wasn’t awkward at all.
This trip was supposed to help me find something I like about him but so far, it’s making me do the opposite. I know it’s him doing this, ruining everything, throwing bits and pieces of memories at me at the most awkward times possible.
No need for me to interfere. You’re screwing this up all by yourself.
There it is again! I close the door behind me, walk over to the needlessly large mirror and stare at it.
“You are an asshole!” I say into it. “And I can’t wait to get rid of you!”
Such language, Chris. Sorry, but the mirror isn’t going to talk back. We don’t have hallucinations.
“Go away. Right now!” My anger is getting the best of me.
But we haven’t had any fun yet.
“This is fun for you? Making me talk to myself, driving me crazy, destroying Lauren's life is fun for you?”
“Chris, who are you talking to?” Lauren says, her voice slightly raised. How much did she hear?
I really am going crazy.
“My parents,” I say, pulling my phone out of my pocket.
“I was letting them know we were taking a break before heading back,” I say quickly.
She looks at me skeptically but her worried expression disappears. She tells me that the food will be here in a half hour. Before she walks away, she asks if I’d like her to close the door. I tell her I’ll be down in a minute, then turn to go into the bathroom. She just looks at me and oddly walks away. She knows I’m crazy.
Great idea coming here.
Chapter 51
Lauren
Something is going on with him. I don’t know what it is, but he seems nervous and a little timid. I was going to the room to ask him what type of Chinese he wanted me to order for him and I heard him talking, or better yet, arguing. I didn’t hear exactly what was going on but whatever it was, he was livid. I’ve never heard him that angry before. He said he was talking to his parents but I just don’t see how that could be the case unless he just hung up on them as soon as I came in the room.
I wonder if coming here, bringing him to the apartment and letting him see our life, was not such a good idea. He had just seen his doctor. Maybe this was too much too soon, but he looked so tired in the car. Now he doesn’t look tired, he looks annoyed, maybe even a little paranoid. His appetite is normal though. He’s eaten two plates of Chinese food but he’s been so quiet I don’t really know what to make of it. No jokes, no short stories. He looks like he’s in deep thought and it’s causing the tension in the air to be heavy.
“How do you like the food?” I ask him even though he’s been devouring it. I want him to say something, to break whatever reverie he’s in. It’s almost like he’s reverted back to the man who showed up at my hotel room after I exploded on his front porch. I definitely don’t want us to go back there.
“It’s really good. I’m stuffed now,” he says washing down his food with the glass of orange soda.
“I’m glad you liked it,” I say, starting to clean up the table.
“I don’t need a nap if you just want to hit the road in a few,” he says, standing and stretching. I look back at him surprised as I throw away the take out containers. After most people eat as much as he did, especially Chinese, they want to sleep for a while. Now he’s ready to hit the road? Once I turn all the way around I have to admit he looks alert, the anxiety and worry on his face are gone. Maybe just being here is what makes him uncomfortable. I try to pretend that doesn’t bother me. Cal and I had a lot of fights and tough times here but so many good ones as well. The idea that being here makes Chris so distressed doesn’t bode well and I wonder if he’ll find anything good about Cal.
“What did you do with his stuff?” he asks as he walks up beside me to throw away his plate. I wish he wouldn’t stand so close to me. Actually, I wish he would stand much closer but I’m trying to ignore the fact that whenever he’s near me my body comes alive. Every nerve ending in my body awakens and begs to be touched. I’m learning to tune them out and each day it gets a little easier. But today it’s a little harder. Especially when he’s standing so close looking down at me in the very room where he did so many things that my body remembers and misses.
Stop it Lauren!
“What did you say?” I ask. I’m so caught up in my own thoughts I can’t remember what he just asked me.
“His things. When I looked around up stairs, I didn’t go in your closet or anything, but it looks like it’s just you and Caylen that live here. Do you still have his stuff?” he asks stuffing his hands into his pocket. Oh, that’s what he was saying.
“It’s in storage,” I say, taking a small step away from him, even inches between us are good. The closer I am, the more it seems like his energy makes me want to do crazy things, like cup his face in my hands, kiss his lips and feel the body that I’ve missed so much.
“Can I see them?” he asks, interrupting a train of thought that I shouldn’t be on, one that leaves me flushed and breathless.
“It could help with the homework,” he answers, obviously noticing the surprise on my face.
“Of course. I don’t know why I didn’t think to ask you,” I admit with a nervous chuckle. He gives me a smile that makes me melt. With the simplest gesture, Chris has a way of making me feel like everything will be okay. I grab my keys, a box cutter and more tape from the kitchen drawer before we head out the door. He follows me out of our apartment. When we’re in the elevator and the door closes, I see him gulp and close his eyes
I hit floor fifteen and then the basement level. If it goes straight down I’m not entirely sure he
won’t throw up.
“You okay?” I steal a glance while I try and cover up my smile.
“Yup,” he says tightly, his hands folded together. Thankfully for Chris the ride is over quickly and the door opens to a hallway leading to our storage area.
“This is a pretty nice basement,” Chris comments as he follows me. He doesn’t miss a thing. I said the same thing when I saw it. It looks more like a big loft type office space than a storage area but I guess this isn’t an ordinary apartment building.
When we get to the door of our space I let out a small breath. Last time I was here I was putting Cal’s things away. I never imagined that when I came back to get them it would be like this.
“It’d be easier if you stayed but if you don’t want to, I get it,” his eyes sympathetic and his voice warm. I plaster on my practiced smile. I haven’t used it in a little while and I hope it’s still effective,
“No, it’s fine and there’s a lot of stuff,” I say with a laugh, opening the door. There are at least twenty boxes here.
“Wow,” he says as we step in. I fold my arms.
“Over there are the clothes he wore for work, shoes, underwear…” I turn to the other wall. “Those are more casual things. You’d probably feel more comfortable in them,” I say. I started referring to him and Cal as the same person when we first got here. It’s what I’ve been wanting to do for so long but since he started acting weird I thought it might be better if I stopped.
“This is a lot of stuff,” he says, resting his hands on his head and letting out an overwhelmed sigh.
