REM // Van McCann

44. You Still Love Her

Warning: There is mention of sexual assault (groping) in this chapter. Please don't read if it makes you uncomfortable.

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I'd love to sleep in til noon but the couch—despite being comfortable to sit on—was not made for sleeping. I thought about buying a couch with a pullout bed but I never had a need for one until now. Now I've got back pain from sleeping weird so I decided to just get up.

My sleep schedule is so fucked that it didn't phase me that I only slept for three hours. It was like any other morning but I was glad it was Saturday and that I didn't have to go to work. I got ready in the bathroom and wanted to change my clothes but didn't want to wake her. I tried my best to be quiet in the kitchen, taking the kettle off the stove as soon as it was about to whistle, and I decided on Weetabix so there wouldn't be any odors from cooking.

I'm glad I don't have any plans this weekend but I don't want to babysit someone either. I get that she's an adult but the thought of leaving her in my flat unsupervised worried me. She'd no doubt have a look around, judging me, so my hope was that her friend would help her out and she wouldn't be my problem anymore.

It wasn't until noon that I heard her stirring in my bedroom. I pretended that I didn't hear and began looking through my fridge to look busy. The door opened and she crept out.

"Good morning...I mean afternoon," she said sheepishly. I closed the fridge and looked at her. Her eyes were puffy from sleep and you could tell she tried her best to make her hair presentable without a brush.

"Did you sleep well?" I asked.

"Yeah! Had a little panic attack when I woke up and didn't know where I was. I assumed I went home with someone but then remembered what happened." She shuffled away towards the bathroom and it wasn't until the door closed that I began thinking about what she said and connecting it with what she said in the past.

"I'm pretty sure I've slept with more people than my mom and dad combined."

Does she usually go home with someone at the club? How can she say it so casually? Fuck's sake! Why am I even thinking about this? Annoyed that this was even on my mind, I busied myself by tidying the kitchen. Florence came out, stifling a yawn and I asked her what she wanted for breakfast.

"Do you want tea? I don't really drink coffee so I don't have that. And I've got Weetabix, toast, sausage and eggs. Just lemme know what you're craving."

"I'll have tea, toast, and ibuprofen. Please and thank you."

I forgot she was hungover so I gave her the entire bottle and a glass of water. In the meantime, I placed a tea bag and hot water in a mug and toasted two slices of bread. She was watching me the whole time which made me nervous so I turned on the telly hoping she'd pay attention to that instead. It didn't work. I brought her tea and toast to the table and she followed me, sitting down.

"You're not gonna sit with me?" she asked.

"I wasn't planning on it," I answered but I sat down anyway.

"You've got a nice place. It's bigger than I expected and you've got a lot of natural light," she said, looking around.

"It's an older building though. Sometimes things don't work but they've been quick to fix things."

"How much is your rent if you don't mind me asking?"

"About $2,000 per month." Florence choked on her toast.

"Is it just you?" she asked, coughing to clear her throat. I nodded my head. "Yeah, I wouldn't be able to afford that."

"Have you had any luck finding a place?" She shook her head.