Belongs to him

11 | Marry a stranger

Alina Windsor

Someone needs to publish a book called 'how to keep it together when you're falling a part' because I kept replaying today. It almost felt like my head was spinning.

He'd followed me back to New York and now I sat in my apartment that sat above an Anthropology. The Chinese takeaway didn't settle well in my stomach as I wondered if he was watching me.

My roommate thought I was a freak for my behavior and I was waiting for the arrival of my sister Reagan. I needed a good scolding and I needed one of my sisters. She happened to be in Chelsea visiting her friend from college.

But her pit stop before home was seeing me trying not to crumble on my couch or choke on noodle. It didn't help that the only channel I had on cable was soap operas. I personally felt like I'd been in one.

I wondered what he'd think of my home if he came inside here. It was more chic and put together, but my room was personally a mess with the mix of abstract art pieces on the walls and work plans cluttering my desk. The walls were a light yellow as I didn't want to paint.

My bed was a double which was perfect for just me but hard as a rock and my kitchen was two by two feet.

But me and my roommate Lindsay were not cooking. We were more grab n go people with a bowl of untouched fruit in the fridge and stale crackers in the one cabinet we had. The kitchen felt more like a hazard rather than a safe space.

"Are you high?" Lindsay's words interrupted my thoughts as she stood with a bucket of popcorn.

"No I am not high, I don't do drugs. Why do you ask?" Lindsay shrugged and then pointed to the soap opera playing on the tv.

"We have streaming services and instead you are watching this willingly. What happened to you? Do British people do this a lot?" I scoot aside as she joins me on the couch and shamelessly watches the show with me.

"Oh hush you... I don't get why she doesn't just talk to him, I mean he likes her, she likes him... communicate!" Now who was the one on drugs, because she was enjoying this.

"It's a soap opera? Have you ever watched Downton Abbey. Me and my mum would watch it all the time, damn better than this," as I distract her I reach for the popcorn and she instinct my pulls away.

"Make your own!" Scoffing I reach over again until someone knocks on our apartment door. Giving up I slip away from my blanket and make my way towards it.

Twisting the handle as I open it, Reagan stood. But it was unusual, she held a six pack of hard lemonade in her hand and in the other a box of frozen pizza. We drank together a lot, but mostly sneaking around as teenagers and holidays. Once in awhile we'd drink together. But she's never brought alcohol over to my apartment.

"I told you I have wine?"

"I know, I need that to," She hands the pack over to me as I open the door wide and step aside for her to come in. She follows me into the kitchen as lean against the counter as she shoves the pizza in the oven. She didn't even preheat it which leaves me wondering how this will pan out.

"So, what is this about. You travel all the way and stop by in New York just to drink?" She moved and slouched down on the couch and looked to Lindsay.