Anxious

Chapter 7: Small Talk

She woke to Cinnamon kneading her chest. The sun hadn't even peeked through the curtains yet. She sat up and looked around. Her glass of wine was on the coffee table, with only a sip out of it. Her eyes caught site of an empty, second glass, which reminded her that she had invited a man in with her last night. And I passed out. Nice.

She spotted him then, asleep in her overstuffed chair. He was far too long for it, so his legs hung off in awkward positions. He looks so cute, she thought, and hurried to the bathroom to shower before he woke up. Cinnamon followed her in and sat on the toilet. 

"He's handsome, isn't he boy? He's sweet, too. Maybe he'll want to hang with us today."

The fat cat purred in response. Leslie hopped under the warm water, still chatting with him.

About 20 minutes later, she shuffled through the side door that led into her bedroom. It was very small, but they never slept in there anyway. It was basically used as a closet. She threw on some black jeans and an over-sized Type O Negative shirt. 

Music was a huge outlet for her; she loved all kinds of rock. She had everything on her phone from Black Sabbath to Nirvana. She had gotten this particular shirt at an amazing, live concert in Portland. While she was in college, she hung around a dark crowd. She wasn't 'gothic', as they self-proclaimed themselves, but they asked little questions, and seemed to dislike people as much as she did. 

She worked at Red Lobster and stayed in a dorm back then. She bunked with a very depressed, artistic girl, Tracey. They were pretty close acquaintances, had the same circle of friends, and even resembled each other. In the 2 years Leslie was in school, Tracey was probably the only one she could call a "friend." One day, she just disappeared. So many rumors went around-serial killers, kidnapping, drugs, suicide-but not a soul knew where Tracey had gone.

Exactly three days after her friend's disappearance, Leslie got a wad of cash in the mail with instructions to leave town. She had gotten a few letters from HIM before that, but none told her leave. They consisted of "stay on your toes" and "be prepared to leave". HE had even tried to talk to her once, at a park. However, when he introduced himself as the man who had been sending her the notes, she passed out, and woke up in the hospital. She was glad to know what he looked like, but never wanted to face him again.

When the note to leave came, she was almost relieved. College life was too dramatic for her; she ended up vanishing as fast as Tracey. She turned to Papa Moe, who had visited the school a few times looking for undiscovered talent. He was sweet on her, and always trying to get her to work in one of his diners. This was how she ended up in Bend. 

Leslie shook her head hard to clear her mind of the past. Then, she brushed her hair on the way to the coffee pot. James was still sleeping. He looked so uncomfortable, she almost wanted to wake him. However, the clock only read 6:36am, and she thought that might be a bit early.

Cinnamon circled him and kept looking to Leslie for approval.

"Don't wake him, Cinny," she whispered as she pushed the start button on the coffee maker.

She tip-toed to the couch to get on her laptop. The huge tomcat jumped up on the arm of the chair that James occupied. Leslie gave Cinnamon a sharp look to get down, but he ignored her and sniffed at the man's arm. She blushed when she realized she was eyeballing him, and gasped when he stirred. She pretended to be engrossed in the computer.

Cinny stood his ground on the the arm of the chair, but James' foot spun around to the floor and knocked the cat right off. He landed on his feet, hissed, and ran to the bedroom.