Axel

Chapter 14

Axel

Is it possible to be madly in love with a shower?

I'm really starting to think it could be.

I was towelling myself off in the bathroom barely five minutes ago, and I caught myself literally making eyes at Buck's fucking shower from across the bathroom. Hell, I love that thing, and I doubt it's the most fancy shower in the world. But compared to a prison cell shower, anything would be true love.

Buck's shower. Should I be internally referring to it as my shower? My apartment? My place?

Nah, doubtful. Buck owns the place, I don't.

But, I guess, all those privileged little college kids that live in the dorms refer to them as their dorms. They don't own the goddamn deeds. And Buck did tell me to treat this place like home. For now, it is my home.

So, fuck it. My shower. My apartment. My place.

I unhook the towel that's been tied around my hips and toss it into the hamper. Then I sit down on the bed - my bed - Buck ass naked, pun most definitely intended. I bought these sheets, I can park my post-shower ass down on them if I please.

There's a hell of a lot more dirty things I'd like to do on these sheets.

And, inevitably, my thoughts drift to Maya.

Or, more specifically for now, Rosie.

I reach over to the nightstand, picking up the notebook I've started dedicating to my draft letters for Rosie. I'm currently awaiting her latest reply, it's got to be in the post by now so I know I don't have too long to wait - and I have a very serious, important proposition for her. A proposition I'll be including in my next letter. Hell, I'm so fucking excited about this proposition, I might just drop this letter off in her mailbox at the dorms myself, instead of having to wait for the postal service to deliver it. 

I'm excited about it for sure, I just can't decide how best to word it.

How unlike me.

But, this is big. And I have no idea how she'll react. She could freak out and decide to stop writing me - which I absolutely do not want. So, this is delicate. I have to play this carefully. In other words, I can't fuck it up.

So far, I have the following;

Rosie, you already know I'm not exactly a law abiding citizen... And I know this is completely against the rules, but I'm hoping your personal rule book may consider bending things ever so slightly, in the interests of maintaining our blossoming friendship and allowing it to thrive. Rosie - I have a cellphone. And if you're interested, I would love to speak to you outside the realms of handwritten letters. Our contact is amazing, but it's so sporadic. If, say, you were up for texting me. Well, I'd be cool with that. Suffice it to say, cellphones are contraband in prison, so you can imagine I'm not exactly working with Facetime here. Texts could work. I'd love to be able to text you at nights when I'm confined to my cell. If you feel the same, my number's included below.

I screw my face up as I re-read the paragraph. It's a tad direct, and I know I'm gonna rework it a little. But, that's the bare bones of the situation. I want Maya to text me, as Joe. I want more than the odd letter every other week. I want to firm this shit up between us. And I know it's achievable, given the chance. I know it's not one sided, Joe means just as much to her as Rosie means to me. And, well, I want him to mean even more.

It's all part of my evil, diabolical master plan to get the girl.

Maybe I'm crazy, but who ever said I wasn't?