"Finally, a place for some rest!" I say as I twist the lock and open the door.
"Oh God, I'm so tired!" Hayley adds while bringing her suitcase in.
"What do you mean? You live here!"
"I don't! I just live in this city."
"Hey, you have that house." I remind her as I place my suitcase on the table by the window.
"That I can't live anymore ever since my piece of shit brother turned it into a gambling den." She puts her suitcase next to the nightstand and hangs her tan coat on the stand. "Can you see me living with cigar-smoking Apaches playing baccarat and howling like wolves at 3 in the morning?"
"Well, where do you live now?"
"I don't know." She takes off her boots and leaps backwards onto the bed. "My stuff's with Jayda but I crash in Roan's place sometimes."
"Things that tough, huh?"
"Yeah, especially with her cats fighting every night. It's hard to sleep over there."
"At least we'll have some peace and quiet here."
"Exactly." She looks at the cream ceiling, at the lime green walls covering the room. "By the way, why'd you ask for two beds?"
"I wasn't comfortable with the idea of us sleeping on the same bed." I take my loafers off and hang my tartan jacket on the stand. "And besides, wouldn't you sleep better on your own bed?" I ask.
"I don't want to sleep on my own, I want to sleep next to you." She turns to me with eager eyes. "Isn't that what you've always wanted?"
"We'll get to that soon. Right now I just want to unwind." I sit on the bed and turn on the TV but the cooking show is interrupted by a hail of gunfire outside. "You hear that?"
"Probably just someone shooting somebody," Hayley answers nonchalantly, as buzzing police choppers zoom around us. I'm surprised at how calm she is over everything.
I watch the lady on TV baking mille feuille pastries, then I notice Hayley in a fetal position, her back on me. "You okay there Hayley?"
"Fine, I'm fine," she says, but I sense uncertainty in her voice.
"Seriously, what is it?"
She doesn't say anything at first, but eventually she gives in. "I'm just sad you don't want to sleep with me. It makes me feel bad."
"Aw, don't be like that Hayley."
"This is our first night together but you're putting a boundary between us. It shouldn't have to be like that."
"I'm sorry. I can't help myself."
"Argh, Zach. You frustrate me sometimes, you know? God."
Feeling the shroud of guilt hang over me I sit on the edge of her bed. "What are you doing?" She asks, unsure as to what I'm up to.
"It's alright," I say, "I hate it when I make you like that."
"Zack, stop it. I get your need for space."
"But seeing you feel bad about it makes me feel bad."
"Look," she sits on the space beside me, "I know this is your first time sleeping with someone, so don't be too hard on yourself."
"Okay." I turn off the TV and hang my head back. "So what do we do?"
Hayley turns on the small radio on the nightstand, and I Really Wanna Know You by Gary Wright starts playing. "What else do we do? Let's enjoy this night."
YOU ARE READING
Split Sides
PoetryPoetry, prose, and more from the fountain of thought. Cover made by the wonderful @-fedorable. Best Rankings: #3 Essay #3 Monologue #4 Draft #1 Poetry