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GOODBYE BLUE SKY
Rancid.
My mouth tasted rancid.
Waking up Saturday morning, I felt slightly hungover and in dire need of a shower.
When I opened my heavy eyes, I took in the foreign place I was in, and then I remembered my night out with Bonham. Bonham, who wasn't beside me as I rolled over.
The twin bed was cold on my left side, letting me know he'd been gone for a while, or had never shared the bed with me.
As I sat up, one thing was clear: my head was fucking killing me.
Pressing the palm of my hand to my forehead, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, prepared to get up and get out of dodge.
Ugh, it felt like my brain was floating in the pool of my head.
I was only in my underwear, but I was certain we hadn't had sex. A quick run through my memory left me coming up empty on the act. Bonham had kissed me, drank with me, and smoked a little as well, but when it was all going black, he was nowhere to be found.
I stood to my feet, unsure how I felt on the failed mission of bedding Bonham Church.
Regardless of the fact that I hadn't gotten laid, the night had still been fun, letting me know that life in Meadow Grove could be tolerable.
Once I was on my feet I found where Bonham had slept. Out on the balcony, he was asleep on a hammock, having only just a blanket to keep him warm.
For a moment, I stood where I was, watching him sleep. On his left shoulder blade was a sparrow tattoo. The wind blew, causing his messy hair to sway.
I was caught up between going over and climbing under his blanket with him, or simply waking him up to say goodbye and thank him for the night out.
In the end, I decided against both as I knew getting home was more important.
Scott had to be pissed.
Hopefully enough to send me back to my real home.
When I didn't spot my cut-offs or shirt from the previous evening, I grabbed a pair of sweats and a Grateful Dead shirt from the laundry basket nearest the bed.
It was nice to know Bonham's mother still did her boys' laundry and folded it too.
I wasn't sure if my own mother had ever folded my laundry. She'd done it for a while until I got to an age where I hated her touching my things.
I didn't want to think of my mom when I had a bigger issue in front of me.
My cell phone lay on the bed and upon pressing the power button, I found a series of missed texts, calls, and voicemails from Scott, and a single call from Cameron.
