Fireworks

39

Before I open my eyes when I wake up, I'm highly aware that I'm not in my bed. I lay still, remembering all that happened last night. It's not long before the embarrassment catches up to me. I can't believe I came to Arlo's place. I can't believe I'm wearing his shirt.

I slowly roll over and peek to check that he's still asleep. His arm is tossed across his eyes and his torso is twisted in an uncomfortable position, but he's asleep. I feel terrible for making him sleep on the ground.

After pulling the sheets back, I carefully remake the bed and grab my phone. I tread over to where I left my backpack and grab it. In the bathroom, I sit on the toilet seat and try to come up with a plan. I check the time and feel slight relief at seeing it's only 7:00, I still have four hours before I have to be at work.

I quickly take stock of all that I have since I was in a rush packing last night. Unfortunately, I didn't bring a change of clothes, but I guess yesterday's will do. I pull them on and put on deodorant. I brush my teeth and rinse my face, and am fortunate enough to find a tube of chapstick shoved at the bottom of the front pocket. I pull my hair free of its braid and decide that this is as good as it's going to get.

I repack my bag and plop on the rim of the tub. I'm no closer to having a plan.

I guess I have no choice but to go back home. I don't know what I thought I would be proving in leaving. My mom didn't even call me to check I was safe. Had she even noticed I left? Well, hopefully she's at work by now. I won't have to see her when I go back to get clothes and the rest of my stuff. I'll have to ask my dad where he lives.

Before I can wallow anymore, I grab my bag and leave the bathroom as quietly as possible.

Arlo's awake, though, when I come out. He's sitting on the edge of the mattress, head propped on a hand, typing on his phone. For a second I just stand, watching him. He heaves a long breath and looks at the pillows on his bed as if he's waiting for something to appear. He clicks a button on his phone, though, and brings it to his ear.

My phone starts to buzz in my hand, and I look down to see his name flashing on the screen. I look over at him again. He's pacing now, hand buried in his hair.

"Arlo?"

He jolts and spins around to face me, eyes wide. He glances down at his phone and ends the call. "Hadlee, hey. Sorry, I thought you..." he shakes his head. "I woke up and the bed was made and all your stuff was gone. I thought maybe you'd left."

"Oh," I nod. "Sorry, yeah. I probably should head out though." I say sheepishly, again realizing how stupid I was for coming here. I think of last night how we had been so close to each other... God, I'm stupid. I should have known better than to do this.

He frowns and says, "At least let me make you breakfast. Where are you headed?"

I shift my weight and shrug. "I've got to get my stuff from my mom's house. I didn't really think things through last night. Then I guess I'll just," I trail off for a moment and his brow ticks downwards. "Find my dad's place, I guess."

He sighs and walks towards me. When he's directly in front of me he stops. I nervously keep my eyes trained on his chest. It's too embarrassing to be near him after last night.

When the silence gets to the point where it's drowning me, he says, "Will you look at me?"

I let my eyes trail up to meet his gaze, and though my first instinct is to flinch away at the anger in his face, I hold it. He doesn't necessarily look hostile, like he'd hit me, but more provoked, like I was bothering him.