Let's go.

Part 23: The Unlikely Friend

It's pitch black in the hotel room except for the faint red glow of the clock next to the bed. The black-out shades are drawn. The clock reads 8 am; I have only slept four hours.

Layne's heavy breathing tells me that he is sleeping deeply. I roll over onto my side to face him. He is lying on his back with his face turned toward me on the pillow. His dark blue hair is a stark contrast against the white sheets. I draw along his brow with my finger and he turns his face away from me in his sleep. I stare at the back of his head and wonder why he couldn't be faithful to me. My mind wanders to the women he has taken back to his room. Did he kiss them? Did he look into their eyes and have a connection with them? Did he hold them after?

I begin to feel ill and I swing my legs over the side of the bed. I place my head between my knees to get the blood flowing and then slowly ease myself out of bed. I pull on the black pants and panties I had on the night before and slip on Layne's white button-down. I stuff my feet into my sneakers next to the bed then grab Layne's black leather jacket he has lying across the chair. I tiptoe out of the room and then quietly close the hotel room door so it only makes a slight click.

Once in the hall, I take a deep breath. I need to calm my mind. I need to walk and I need some coffee. As I exit the hotel, I find a young man with long red hair leaning against the side of the building smoking a cigarette. I ask him where I can get a cup of coffee and he grins at me.

"American?" He asks with an American accent.

I nod.

"Where ya from?" He asks as he extinguishes his cigarette on the sole of his army boot. I wonder to myself if he is in one of the bands touring with Layne or a member of the road crew.

"San Francisco. Where are you from?" I reply.

"Ah, cool town. I'm from Washington," He answers and blows out a cloud of blue smoke over his shoulder.

He looks down at my jacket then back up at me and says, "Do you want some company?"

I nod and reply, "Yeah, that would be nice."

He smiles at me sincerely and says, "There is a coffee shop down the road if you don't mind a walk."

"I'd prefer a walk," I reply with a slight laugh. He studies my face for a moment then nods.

"You wanna talk about it?" He asks as we begin down the sidewalk.

"Just the usual shit. Girl loves boy, girl wonders if boy loves girl," I say with a roll of my eyes and I notice him looking at the jacket again. "What's your name?" I ask.

He lights another cigarette and as he exhales he tells me his name is Mark. He asks me mine and I tell him.

"Like the bird?" He asks and I laugh. He grins at me.

"Yeah, I guess so," I reply.

"It's fitting," He says.

We are quiet for a while until he breaks the silence, "You don't look like the kind of girl who I would expect to be sneaking out in that jacket."

I look over my shoulder at him and smile. "What kind of girls come out wearing this jacket?" I ask.

He laughs and shakes his head. "You're sharp as a tack aren't ya?"

I shrug and he smiles down at me. He rubs his forehead with the hand holding his cigarette and looks at the ground before answering, "Well, uh, to be honest, he is pretty protective of that jacket so I'd have to say none."

I chuckle at his joke. Maybe Layne kicks them out after he fucks them. Knowing that he may not be holding them and letting them stay the night makes me feel oddly better. I hate myself for trying to lessen the heartache of his cheating by creating levels of infidelity.