Love Bites

Chapter IV

The soft hues of morning light trickled through the half-open blinds, casting a gentle glow across the cluttered bedroom. I nestled further into the warm cocoon of blankets ready to fall back asleep when a sharp kick jolted me back to reality. "Ow, Taylor" I groaned, more in surprise than pain. She muttered something incoherent in response before stealing the rest of the blankets away from me. For a moment I wrestled with the idea of reclaiming some lost territory from Taylor's unwitting hoarding, but my aching back served as painful reminder not to bother.

Reluctantly, I peeled myself from the bed, limbs still heavy from sleep. I cast one final longing glance at my bed before making my way to the bathroom. As I brushed my teeth, I couldn't help but scrutinize my reflection. The person staring back at me somehow familiar and strange all at once, a girl caught in the in-between.

Last night, cocooned in the comfort of Taylor's presence, I'd allowed myself to forget, if only for a few hours, the pressing weight of decisions that lay ahead. Taylor doesn't know everything yet, the realization lingered in my mind, stubborn and persistent. It clung to me like the minty aftertaste of my toothpaste, refusing to be washed away, no matter how much water I swished around my mouth.

Sighing, I made my way back to my room. Taylor was already awake, stretching her arms groggily. It was hard not to crack a smile at her bedhead and the way she stumbled out of bed like it was her first-time using legs. "There are extra toothbrushes in the bathroom," I told her, trying to sound more upbeat than I felt. "Middle drawer, take your pick."

"Thanks," she mumbled, half-awake as she staggered past me.

"Meet you downstairs?" I called out as she shuffled towards the bathroom. Her sleepy thumbs-up was the only answer I got.

Stepping into the kitchen, the silence enveloped me, making the space feel hollow, even with Taylor's presence. Remnants of last night's impromptu gathering were scattered across the counter in the form of grease-stained cardboard boxes, half-empty plates, and crumpled napkins in disarray. Our collective exhaustion had persuaded us to leave the mess for later. And Taylor, too weary to venture back to her own place, had stayed over.

As I surveyed the clutter trying to decide what to tackle first a note on the fridge caught my eye, it was from Sadie. I skimmed over it, she'd run out to grab groceries. I wanted to at least put a dent in the chaos before she came back.

Taylor trudged in a few moments later, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes, "So, what's the plan for breakfast? And please don't say cold pizza."

I couldn't help but laugh, handing her the note, "Wouldn't dream of it. But we might have to fend for ourselves this morning, Sadie's on a grocery run."

Taylor pulled a face at the cold pizza box still sitting on the counter. "I swear, I never want to eat pizza again."

"How many did you scarf down last night, anyway?" I teased, trying to keep the mood light. She rolled her eyes, a grin tugging at her lips despite her complaints.

"I lost count after four... or was it five?" she admitted, grimacing at her previous actions.

"Sadie will probably be back soon, we should clean up before then," I suggested and Taylor nodded in agreement.

As we organized the kitchen, my mind remained scattered. I couldn't avoid telling Taylor the truth I was going to have to confront this at some point, no matter how much I wanted to avoid it. Taylor seemed to pick up on the shift in my mood, stopping for a moment to look at me.

"The funeral is on Saturday," the words tumbled from my lips before I could stop them.

"I'm going to be there Mina," she promised.