The Life of Jezebel Firetongue

24

We entered the hotel room and I watched Jake flop onto his bed and turn on the TV, his shopping bags dropped next to him, spraying some of their contents. I noticed a T-shirt and three pairs of jeans. "Okay, I give. What's up with you?"

Jake looked at me and pressed the mute button on the TV. "What's up with me? The better question is what's up with you?"

"Okay, first you don't say one word to me the whole trip home, and now you're suggesting that I did something wrong?"

"I'm sorry, I just don't get why you're letting that guy get so close to you. Who is he anyway?"

"He's just a friend, Jake! Since when did you get so paranoid?"

"Since when did you decide you like making friends?"

"Since I had an emotional breakdown yesterday at Grocers and Goods!"

We both shut up for a second as Jake examined me with wide eyes. "Wait, what?"

I collapsed onto the bed, trying not to look at him. "I had a really bad nightmare yesterday, alright? Then my bag ripped open after I checked out and he helped me out. Gave me a free bag, too." I sat up and gave Jake a glance of conclusion. "He looks really familiar to me, and I want to find out why, alright?"

Jake walked over and sat beside me. He looked at the end of the room, through a window that gave us a view of the town. Then, he turned his head so we could see eye to eye. An understanding seemed to flash between us, a deal which could only be understood when you felt as if you had lost everything. It was clear we had no reason to hope, but were madly bound to the idea anyways. Finally, Jake replied with, "I guess I can live with that."

Our room was white.

It seemed almost laughable, all the pristine whiteness that surrounded us, a pair of grimy villains. But it was white all over. There were white carpets, white tiles in the bathroom, white doors, white marble in the kitchenette area, white kitchen appliances, white beds, white chairs, white sofas, and white desk, and what wasn't white was painted gold. Jake and I settled into it like wild animals suddenly forced to domesticate. It wasn't easy, but it was do-able.

Jake went for a run the next morning while I roamed the nearby stores in search of coffee. It was a cute place, filled with unique local stores. At this time of morning, people were out walking their dogs and saying hello to each other. Some even smiled at me, which felt strange in this new place.

As I walked back to the hotel, my worries crept into my mind. California wasn't far off, and Jake was supposed to be gone by now. Why was I keeping him around? Why didn't I just cut him loose and forget about it?

I opened the hotel door and was greeted with a sweaty, shirtless Jake. A snide voice in the back of my mind suggested this was the answer.

"Hey Jez! Oh, is that coffee?"

"Um." It took a second for me to collect my thoughts. "Yeah, it, um, it is." Since when did Jake get abs? "I didn't know what you would like so I got black and-"

"Black is fine," Jake reassured me as he reached over with a long arm. I slapped his hand away and he groaned. "What?"

"Have you had any water?" I demanded.

"No, why?"

"You need to properly hydrate. Then you get coffee," I insisted.

"Fine," he mumbled.

Iput his mug down and leaned my head down to sniff at my coffee when I was hitwith the stench of sweat. "Gross! Take a shower!" I groaned.