Basketcase

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty Five

Black... White... Opening my eyes, a light blue tactile ceiling spread to all four corners. A chandelier hung in the center, white, off. I spread my arms, reaching to either side of the bed, one hand meeting cool air and hanging off from mid-forearm. Both arms flat without interference. This is new.

My left arm moved up to my forehead, pressing in. Laying only a few moments more, I scuffled off the covers and slid from the bed. Opening the door, the empty hall lifeless, cold and uninviting. "Marissa..." I called quietly. Letting the silence sink before I called again, "Marissa," I spoke louder, again the silence served as a response. Walking out, I turned toward where I thought I'd been once before. "Mars bar?" I tried once again.

"Here!" a soft voice answered in a joyful hum. Her song calling from behind a rosy red door clacked opened. Posed at the head of her bed, notebook and pen in hand. The tv played noticeably in the background, a woman dressed in a blouse next to an icon in the courner featuring a group of boys.

"Morning..." I yawned, crawling up the bedside.

"Good sleep?" she inquired.

"Guess so," I returned.

"We both needed it," she went on, "I mean we barely got any the first time around. Actually, I don't think we slept the first time around, considering the chaos."

Chaos... "Yeah..." I replied.

The voices from the tv played on a few minutes. The woman was joined by several others, all speaking around a table. "I don't remember getting into the bed I woke up in..." I confessed, keeping my gaze on the tv. "I normally sleep with you."

"You crawled under the master bed yesterday." I turned my head to her now, her gaze connected with the white screen. "You also passed out under the bed and when the guys came, they completely butchered the thing."

"Huh?"

"Not sure why they put us in two beds, would have saved time and effort," she went on, "but it did give time for Harry to confess."

I continued to fix my stare on her. Motionless and concentrated on the program. "What they do to the bed?" I asked.

"The bed?" she echoed, her attention shifted, connecting her stare to mine.

"Uh... yeah..." I dragged in my legs, tucking the right under my left thigh, and then the same for the left leg. "Well they flipped it over to get you out, and well... broke it in the end."

"You know that for sure?" I asked.

"Well, duh! I was there and awake! So, of course, I know for sure." Her lips began to curl, bursting at both ends with a sense of goofiness. "I also know for sure that Harry likes you."

Her gazed deepened, watching me intently. I looked off to the side slightly and then rejoined her gaze. "Okay," I nodded, lining my lips.

Her glare lightened, taken back. "Okay?" she confirmed.

"Umm..." I paused, "Yeah. I like him too. I don't really... not like anyone." I assured.

Her jaw fell slightly and head tilted to the side. Her once stern stare dropped almost completely, in exchange for a daze. "But... that's..." she mumbled, "He... you..."

"I like you too," I added quickly sharing a soft smile.

"But... but..." she fumbled.

She said the bed was broken... they broke the bed... "Is the bed really broken?" I asked.

She returned her composure, fixing her posture. "The what?" she answered, "The bed?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "Is it broken or do you think we could fix it? Or ask for help to fix it?"

"Umm..." she responded dazed. "I guess..."

"Well you said its broken so that must mean there is some kind of a mess," I concluded.

"Umm... maybe?"