Burnouts

Facing Everything but Reality

Scene 1: The Helmsley Hotel

Leo Rylin

Something about the next day makes pain worse. The whole healing process comes with bullshit "getting worse before getting better."

I open my eyes to Heather at my side. "How are you already dressed?"

"I woke up an hour ago."

"Can you give me more pills?"

"Of course." She reaches over to her bedside table. "Does it hurt a lot?"

I shake my head 'no,' as she pours a couple in my hand. "Thank you."

She kisses my cheek, "you're welcome."

She spent the whole night trying to kiss me better until she fell asleep.

I stayed up a little longer than her and kept waking in the middle of the night. No wonder I'm tired now...but I at least want to give her the impression that I won't skip today. She should be in class, and she'll skip with me if she knows. I don't want to be bad for her.

My clothes are in her drawer. My washcloth has a place in her bathroom. I have a toothbrush next to hers.

There's a dull ache in my face from the bruises, but I'm glad I can brush my teeth without any stinging.

Part of me knew throughout the chaos to shield my mouth from being hit, not only are mouth injuries a bitch to deal with— but man, Heather would've been pissed if I couldn't kiss her.

She wraps her arms around me and peeks around to where I can see her face in the mirror. I should've put a shirt on so she couldn't frown at all the purple blotches.

"I'm okay," I reassure her.

"Okay," she still pouts.

"You've left worse marks on me."

"Out of love."

I chuckle and turn to where we're face to face. "Out of something."

"You're not still involved with whatever Matt's doing, right?"

"I told you I'd stop. I only got beat up because I was there too. You trust me, don't you?"

"Do you have to ask?"

"So, believe me," I cup her face in my hands, "I'm fine, we're all good."

"I love you."

"I love you back. Even if I can't say it as nicely as you can."

"I like the way you say it."

Yeah, but what you said last night made me really wish I wasn't lying to you about why I won't talk to the cops.

"I owe you."

"No, you don't."

"I do. We were supposed to have a good night—and it was good, but it wasn't supposed to be like that."

"We'll have plenty of good nights."

I don't doubt it but- "I'm going to do something really fucking romantic. I just have to figure out what."

"You can...take me stargazing," she happily suggests.

"You wanna look at the stars...in New York?"

"I guess not in New York..."

Aw, don't worry. "I'll find you some stars."

"It's a date," she smiles.

"Yes, baby," I tease.