In Between

Chapter 4: I Didn't Want This

I feel his hand running through my hair, gently waking me from deep sleep. I smile, inching towards him; snuggled in our blankets. He radiates warmth. The room seems darker than normal, like the shades are still shut. His breath fills my neck; his hands moving down my naked body. "My gorgeous girl." He whispers. I'm still so tired. Why am I so tired? I groan a bit. "Hey, you awake?" He asks while feeling me up. I'm getting irritated. I don't want to be awake yet, "what time is it?" He answers with confidence, "time for you to give me some of your juicy self." My eyes are mostly closed, but they roll under my eyelids. I moan and groan, trying to pull the blankets closer to my face. He ignores the gesture and continues to lightly touch all of my angles and curves. If only shutting your eyes harder made you instantly go back to sleep. I peek at my phone as it is lighting up from a game notification. Fucking four in the morning? Leave me alone! Eventually, he gives up. He leaves the bed, flipping the blankets over me letting in a cold breeze. Go jerk off, ya jerk-off.

My alarm goes off at seven in the morning. He's not in bed with me. I don't smell breakfast, or coffee. Not even a cigarette. Where did you go? I hesitantly make my way out of our room and downstairs keeping an eye out for him. He's standing on the back porch. He seems to be on his phone. Before I go out to join him, I start a pot of coffee. The kitchen is cold, making the coffee all the more enticing. Damn it. I peel open the canister of coffee grounds. It's empty. Ugh, time to go shopping. With an audible sigh, I turn around to join him on the porch. He doesn't acknowledge me as I step out behind him and grab the pack of cigarettes to light one for myself. I stand there awkwardly; I haven't forgotten what happened this morning and I'm not sure if he has either. His eyes peek at me as I light a stick. Still, not a word. How do I tell him that I need to go grocery shopping? The clouds hide the sun over the trees in the yard. Wind nearly blew the cigarette out of my hand. After a few minutes, maybe five puffs, he turns to me, "coffee?" His face is hard to read and his voice is real low. I shake my head and tell him there is none. I mention the lack of food in hopes that he will get the hint that we need to do some shopping. His attention falls back to his phone. It was as if I didn't mention groceries at all. "So, we should, uhm, get some shopping done. We can figure something out for dinner while we're at it?" I break the silence, and his attention to his phone. "I guess so. Get dressed then." He responded with little enthusiasm. I immediately put the rest of my cigarette out in the dirty ashtray and rush inside.

The lights of the supermarket are brighter than the sun. I have a grocery list and pen in hand as I push the cart through the large aisles. He follows behind me, looking up from his phone to check that he isn't going to walk into anything. Wonder what could possibly be so interesting on that phone. Also, how funny would it be if he tripped? As we walk down the coffee/candy/peanut butter aisle (what a weird combination of things) I notice a young couple holding hands; laughing with each other about their chocolate choices. I look back at him to see if he's noticed them. Of course not, they're not on his phone so he can't see them. Still, I smile as we pass them by. Check coffee off of the list. The supermarket is mostly empty today. Regulars walk around for their normal weekly groceries; pulling things off of disorganized shelves. The bakery display is full to the brim with decorated cakes. Each one with their own unique designs. Wonder if I'll get a birthday cake this year. He doesn't speak until we get to the register and all he asks is if I got his energy drinks. Followed by a silent ride home.

My favorite gray joggers rip as I'm grabbing groceries out of the truck. I nearly cried. He laughed. Probably the loudest noise he has made all day thus far. I wait until after all of the groceries have made it into the house to change into a pair of old blue, cotton shorts. I expected the groceries to have been mostly put away when I got back downstairs from changing; they weren't. He went and sat down on the couch. T.V is off, he is on his phone again. Irritated, I don't say a word and simply grab the groceries from the table and place everything where it belongs. It's so quiet. Kinda hate it right now. I feel the cold of the kitchen tiles through my socks.

"I'm hungry." He breaks the quiet from the living room. I'm almost excited that he's said something.
"How about B.L.T's?"
"Eh."
"I can make tuna melts?"
"No."
"Do you have something in mind?" I'm beginning to wish he didn't speak.
"Do you?"
"No, that's why I'm asking you." Nothing I've suggested is good enough so.
"Why the attitude?"
"I don't have an attitude." Maybe I do, a little.
"Bitch, yes you do."
"I'm just asking what you'd like for lunch." With attitude.
"I don't care."
"Alright, what about nachos?"
"Nachos? Really?"
"Or not." I officially wish he hadn't spoken.
"Do I need to fuck this attitude out of you?"

I don't respond. Instead, I continue searching through the cabinets and fridge for lunch options when my phone vibrates in my back pocket. Rochelle texted me, "Do you remember when we crashed our new bikes? Dad was so upset, spent hours fixing them while Caitlyin put pink bandages on our scrapes. I think that was the last time I cried as hard as I have been these past couple of days.." I stare at the message, confused. Why is she crying? As I begin to respond, a bottle of vodka falls over in the fridge and breaks. "What the fuck?" I exclaim and throw my phone onto the counter. I'll answer her after I clean this up. The vodka's scent burns my nose. While I rush around the kitchen for paper towels, he makes his way over with irritation in every step. He doesn't help; he just stares. What am I? Cinderella? You can't help? The smell is wiped away with every paper towel used up. I ask him to bring me the trash can for all of the crumpled up paper towels surrounding me. He snorts as he drops it next to me and walks back to the living room. I'm not hungry anymore.

With the mess now cleaned up, I decide to sneak up to the bedroom to lay in bed while he's out having a cigarette. The leaf green blanket hanging, pillows strewn about the bed. Not doing it today. I undress, hop in and cover myself inside the cold and messy bed. My eyes begin to shut as I hear him calling my name. Maybe if I ignore him, he'll leave me alone. I hear his footsteps trail up the stairs. I shut my eyes tightly; if I snored in my sleep I would've faked it. Pitch darkness behind my eyelids. His steps become light... then silent. I feel the bed shift to his weight. Slowly, the blanket lifts and his bare body slides against mine. He whispers my name into my ear. No, no, no. I'm sleeping. Taking a nap. Leave. My name gets a bit louder. Louder. He's speaking in his normal voice now. I open my eyes, "yes, my love?" I regretfully answer. His hands trail around my body once again, "come on, let's have some fun." I tell him no, but that doesn't stop his hands from feeling me up. "Baby, let me show you love." I hold back my frustration and simply tell him, "let's cuddle, then." He did not like that answer. He doesn't want to cuddle. He wants to have sex, of course. We went back and forth for what felt like an hour, but was probably more like twenty minutes before I cave. "Fine, yeah, whatever." I give him permission. He pounces. Hands everywhere. Lips everywhere. Inside of me, just as he wanted. The room was cold and dark. Not even the yellow curtains looked bright. I closed my eyes and just... allowed it.

He left the house afterward. Went to a friend's house. I picked the clothes up off of the floor of the room. Everything felt very somber when I entered the shower. The water, washing the self-guilt from my skin as I sat in the tub and sobbed.