Last Girl

Chapter 4

I lead Jacob through the large doors.
He looks around in awe.
In the 3 years that I've been alone, the large warehouse has slowly transformed into more of a home.
My bed sat in a room in a corner, lights strung around it.
Most of the canned food had been sorted through and piled up. The towering racks boasted years of canned food. The freezers hummed softly, holding additional frozen foods.
"You have a lot of food"
Jacob finally says, after wandering around the vast building.
"I do. I planned on living here for the foreseeable future. There's not really anywhere else to go."
"Will you give me a tour?"
"Sure. Follow me"
I lead him through the twisting maze of food, and to the back corner that I had made my home. Titan trotted gently behind us, sniffing at every little thing.

"This is my area." I say as I gently push aside a sliding door. My room is exactly how I left it. Very messy. A queen sized bed, unmade gray sheets strewn across it. A tiny white table sat beside it, along with a dresser I had "borrowed" from the nearby furniture store. A shower stall sat in a corner, but I had to fill it up with water, so I didn't shower often. A small door lead outside, to a clean outhouse. A small pink carpet covered some of the cold gray floor, and lights hung around the room, powered by a small generator.
"Sorry I didn't clean up. I wasn't expecting company."
"Understandably" he says with a smile.
"You did all this?" he asks.
"Ya. I've had a lot of free time."
Titan walks to his dog bed and curls up.
It was getting late.
"Do you want something to eat?" I finally say.
"Yes! I'm starving" he says.
"You pick something out, and I'll set the table." I say.
I walk over to the small 2 person table, and put out 2 paper plays, complete with plastic glasses and silverware.
I pull out my boxes of candles and matches (Generators can be sketchy) and light a candle on the table. Titan gets his generous ration of dog food, which he munches on happily.
Severely minutes later, Jacob comes back, holding a basket of food.
I see canned green beans and peaches, along with frozen dinner rolls and frozen chicken nuggets.
"A feast fit for a king" he say grandly.
I walk over to the microwave and out the food in it.
"Looks delicious." I say.
"I also brought this." he says, pulling out a bottle of red wine.
"It'll be our little secret" he says with a wink. "I saw the broken glass case of nice wines, and I thought you wouldn't mind if I borrowed one" He pours two glasses, and we sit down to our feast. The record player he found plays smooth jazz in the background. We talk long after the food is gone. 3 hours and 2 bottles of wine later, we are sitting on the couch. Our legs are touching.
"And then, the fish wiggled out of my hand, smacked my brother in the face, and got back into the water!!" He says, swinging around a empty bottle.
"NO WAY!" I say We both are cracking up. Tears of laughter run down my face.
"It's been too long since I've laughed with someone." he confides, with a more serious tone.
"It's been a long time for me as well."
I say.
"I like you." Jacob says.
Wait. Did he just say he liked me? Like like like me?
"Huh?" I stuttered.
"I like you." he says again, louder.
I am not sure what to say, so I do the only thing I can think of.
I lean in, and kiss Jacob.
It was a soft kiss, sweetened with wine.
His hand slowly wraps around me, and pulls me closer. My heart raced in my chest. Oh my god. I am KISSING someone. who is VERY attractive. I feel Jacobs body pressed against mine. I kiss him harder. I pour all the sadness and loss into the passion of the kiss.
He responds by kissing me back harder. He tastes of wine and strawberries. He softly bites my lip, and my mouth opens, letting his tongue in. His hand slowly creeps up my stomach, under my shirt. My hands slowly unzip his jacket, and he is taking it off.
Wait. Is this actually happening?
Suddenly, I am taking his shirt off.
I see his toned body. He has a tattoo on his shoulder. It was a word. Truth.
An odd tattoo to see on a person like Jacob.
I break the kiss. "What's this?"
I ask, tracing my hands on the tattoo.
"It's a reminder. Always tell the truth."
"I like it." I say.
My hands roam across his abs and chest. He groans softly. His body radiates a warm heat. I pull him closer.
His hands feel the long scar down the side of my stomach.
"What's this?" he asks, mirroring my question.
His hands trace the scar, leaving fire in their wake.
Suddenly, my mind racing back to more than a year ago, to how I got the scar.

I had been sorting through the mountains of food taking inventory all day. My 16 year old mind wasn't very intelligent, and I thought it was a good idea to climb up the towers of food on the racks.
It wasn't a good idea.
I was nearing the top, when my foot slipped and I came crashing down. I landed hard on the unforgiving cement.
I was lucky I don't break anything. That would've been a death sentence, seeing that all the doctors were dead.
When I feel, I hit my side on a sharp metal corner, and it left a long scratch down my side.
I laid on the floor, in too much pain to move.

I felt warm blood gushing out of my wound. I knew if I didn't get it bandaged up fast, I would die.
I tried to get up, but my entire body screamed in protest.
I half crawled, half staggered towards the first aid section of the store, leaving a trail of blood in my wake.
Tears of pain streamed down my face.
I was scared to look at the wound. I peeled off my ruined shirt, and looked down.
A long deep cut lead from underneath my armpit to my hipbone.
It was bad, but not too deep. I would need stitches. I decided  to pour hydrogen peroxide on the cut. I screamed in agony as the liquid cleansed my cut. My Vision was tinged with black. But I couldn't pass out, or I would die.
I dug through and found a needle and suture thread. I sterilized the needle and threaded it.
I had no idea how to do stitches, so I guessed, causing a unsightly, jagged scar across my abdomen.
Somehow I managed to not die. I finished the stitches, poured some more hydrogen peroxide on it, and collapsed on the bloodstained ground, utterly exhausted.

"Gracie?"
"Gracie?"
I snapped out of my reverie.
"Huh?"
"You zoned out for like a minute. Are you ok? You scared me."
"Ya I'm fine, just the scar was a really traumatic injury. I'm ok though."
"What happened?" he asked gently.
"I fell, and cut my side pretty bad. I had to stitch it up myself. I almost died."
"When?"
"Almost 2 years ago."
"Wow." he said for what felt like the 12th time today.
He looked into my eyes and a saw compassion, and kindness.
Then his lips crashed into mine again, and the rest of the world faded away.