The Incredible League of Goth Pizza Haters (RH)

Part 53

---Ricky---

I was half asleep when I heard the door creak open and felt her slip into bed behind me. I turned and looked briefly, sight blurry as I saw white hair pressing against dark sheets, then I rolled back over and closed my eyes.

***

This was something she'd begun to do every few nights or so. I didn't mind her sneaking into bed with me because I liked snuggling and I liked falling asleep with her. It's comforting, drifting into an unconsciousness and knowing there's someone to wake up to when the fog clears. And there was something wonderfully peaceful about waking up to someone you care about, especially when they're still asleep. At this point, I've learned Via didn't sleep until about two or three am on some nights and didn't wake up until eleven or twelve. Touring had messed with my sleeping schedule so much that now I was rising at about nine am and drifting out of it around midnight. So usually when she slipped into my bed, the next morning I was awake hours before her.

Except for this morning.

***

I stretched and shivered, rolling over to see my girlfriend hogging all the goddamn sheets. For about thirty seconds I stopped and admired how truly beautiful she was. Even with messy hair and sleep smothered skin. I left her to sleep and went into the kitchen to get something to eat.

I toasted some bread and started some coffee before saying hello to Dexter and watching some TV in the living room. About a half hour later, her alarm went off from the guest bedroom. I got up and switched it off but when I went back into my bedroom to wake her up, I found she already was.

Via was laying in the dark in a tangle of sheets. When I walked in I made eye contact with her and could tell she hadn't slept well at all. The stress must've kept her up.

"Time to get up," I said. She sighed and buried her face into my bed.

"I'm so tired,"

"Didn't get a lot of sleep?" she shook her head no. "I could drive you and you could nap on the way if you'd like."

"No, it's okay. I wouldn't be able to sleep, anyway." She rolled out of bed and passed me on her way to her room.

"There's fresh coffee waiting in the kitchen," I said and she gave a lazy thumbs up over her shoulder as she disappeared.

Today was Ian's trial.

About twenty minutes later she emerged from her room, dressed somewhat professional but still in black. She grabbed her car keys and stood in the kitchen for a few seconds drumming her fingers against the counters and looking lost in thought.

"Did you leave me the list?" I asked

"What? Oh," she left the room and returned with a slip of paper for me. "I'll pay you back for whatever's mine."

"Nah," I said, reading over it, "I'll pay for it. Don't worry."

"You sure?" She asked.

"Yeah," I said. And then she left. I had a few hours to myself and now I had her list as well as my own so I got dressed and headed to the store.

Milk, butter, Italian bread, broccoli, cat treats...Etc. In the line at the checkout, I mentally facepalmed and made an awkward dash back to the creamer aisle to get caramel macchiato.

Back at home, I unloaded groceries then took notice of the free time I held in my hands.

I broke out the oil paints. Sometime later the door opened and I set the brush down.

"Via?" I called and heard the sound of keys on the counter. She walked in, slipping off her flats and face planted on the other end of the couch. "How'd it go?"

"One year." Her reply was muffled.

"What?" She turned on her side, facing the tv.

"Ian got one year. He's in jail for a year."

"Only a year?"

"His dad has a lot of money." She said and I sighed. Then she laughed. "I also lost my record deal."

"I'm sorry. "

"It's fine. My band left me anyway." There was a consuming silence where I began to feel really bad for her. Sister died, band left, friend beat her... I thought I had bad luck. She looked up at me. "What are you doing?"

"Painting."

"What are you-," the doorbell rang. I got up but stood there. The realization was setting in.

"Via I'm covered in paint. Please help. My wallets on the table and the food is here." She said okay and when she returned, a box was dropped on the couch in disgust.

"What the fuck is that?"

"It's... Pizza."

"You lied." she had light in her eyes again.

"I did not. I only like Scranton pizza." I defended.

"Pizza is pizza no matter where it's from."

"Try some. It's really good."

"You're out."

"Out of what?"

"The Incredible League of Goth Pizza Haters. It's just me now. You are gone." She sneered.

"You're being a bit dramatic." I scoffed.

"You sit on a cheesy throne of lies."

"Aren't you Italian? You're ancestors fucking created pizza."

"Yeah, and they're dead now." She turned on her her heel and walked out

"Not because of pizza!" I called after her.

"Enjoy your greasy DEATH."