All That and a Bag of Chips

Chapter 34

That night, Collin couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned in bed, filled with uneasy dread, questions in his mind piled up quicker than the sheep he was trying to count.

First there were the questions about Brandon: Should he have punched him? He certainly deserved it. And damn, it would've felt good.

Then there were the questions about Heather: Why did she believe Avery without giving him the chance to explain? Sure, they hadn't known each other that long, but surely he deserved that chance.

Finally, there were the questions about how things were left: Should he have stayed? Was Heather going to be okay? Would Monica pass on his message? Would Heather ever call him?

The glowing green time display on Collin's alarm clock slowly marked the passing minutes: 2:34; 3:06; 3:22; 3:51...

At some point, he must have drifted off because the next time he opened his eyes, it was after seven. Still too early, based on what time he got home, but later than he had to wake up on a workday.

He stared at the ceiling, and blankness stared back at him. It was a boring ceiling. Just plain white. No unique water stains or interestingly jagged cracks. Nothing to distract his attention. Should he try to close his eyes? His body felt wrecked. Or should he just go caffeinate himself and figure out what to do with himself until Heather called?

Not if she called, but when. He had to maintain that hope.

After exactly eight minutes of debating, Collin rolled out of bed and plodded towards the coffee maker. No one was up and the kitchen was mostly dark. Some gray light bled in through the large front windows, but it barely reached past the dining room.

Collin walked across the living room and pulled open the sheer curtains. "Let there be light."

Then he walked back into the kitchen, filled the coffee machine with water, threw a paper filter into the waiting cone, and then scooped a generous amount of grounds in before closing everything up and turning it on. After a moment of silence, it buzzed to life. Hissing and whirring. Less than a minute later, the first drops of hot liquid fell, steaming, into the waiting carafe.

As he leaned against the counter, watching the drips accumulate, Collin contemplated what he would do if Heather didn't call him. Maybe he shouldn't even wait for her to call. He should just show up with a care package: flowers, ibuprofen, water, coffee, and crackers, all piled in a basket and covered with cellophane. That would be the right balance of caring and romantic, right?

Fuck it. He couldn't stand it any longer.

Leaving the coffee maker to do its thing, Collin strode off back through his room to the bathroom. He turned on the shower, jumping in even before the water warmed up. He scrubbed himself, using exfoliant on his face and vigorously lathering shampoo into his hair. Then he shaved his face. He wanted every remnant from last night to be gone from his skin.

After drying off and putting on aftershave and deodorant, he put on fresh clothes. Carpe diem, he thought, seize the day.

Then he went back into the kitchen, filled two to-go mugs with coffee and cream, placed them securely in his messenger bag, and then marched out the front door.

While he couldn't quite pull off a basket covered with cellophane, he could still make a care package. Locking his bike up outside the CVS, he went walking up and down the aisles. He found a small mylar balloon on a stick that said "Get Well Soon" and a Hallmark card that said "I'm sorry." He also grabbed a bottle of Advil Liquigels, a Vitamin Water, and a box of Saltines.

After paying, he hopped back on his bike and rode to the Holiday Inn.

It was weird being back in the parking lot after what happened the previous night, and Collin almost wanted to bang on Brandon's door to finish the fight he hadn't quite started the night before. Instead, he walked up the stairs to the second floor and walked down to Heather's room.