The Gravity of Us

Chapter 5 (Avery)

I just don't understand. How did I end up here?

I covered my eyes with the back of my forearm.

All I wanted was a free meal.

But that came with a price tag, and I got it at the cost of spending the whole night with Blake.

Blake Masterson.

He was infuriating, but he was also charming and warm. I liked the way his eyes shined when he looked at me. It made me feel special. I wasn't popular in high school, so I wasn't used to having a boy's attention. I don't even know if this qualifies as having a boy's attention.

"Blake Masterson," I whispered. I run a finger along my tingling lips.

I don't want to like him.

I roll over onto my stomach, shoving my face into my bed's pillow.

I try blowing out my frustration into the pillow, but it doesn't work.

Saying it was simple, however I was never a good liar. Convincing myself was easy, persuading my heart, not so much...

******************

I breathed in deeply and willed my eyes to open.

I must have fallen asleep by accident.

My head fell to the right with a yawn. As I glanced at the time, I felt my stomach drop abruptly.

It was 6:15!!!

We agreed to meet up at 7:30pm, and I have done nothing.

I jolt out of bed and rush to the bathroom mirror.

If I wasn't in such a rush, I would have laughed at my appearance.

I looked like a five dollar prostitute. My hair was tangled in a massive knot, the eyeliner from this morning had smeared, and my lipstick was stretched across my cheek.

In hindsight I should have known this would happen, I nap when stressed.  But I wasn't the only one to blame, my bed totally betrayed me. And after all I'd done for it: bought a cute comforter, decorated it with nice pillows and a certain stuffed animal. So ungrateful.

I felt guilt creep into my conscience. I refused to accept responsibility, just this once.

"Gaawhhh!"

I quickly washed my face and jumped in the shower. The water was hot and strong, pounding against my skin like bullets.

With my back to the shower head, I get to work on my hair by attempting to undo the tangled mess. It took majority of my 20 minute shower, but I got it out. There was no time to cheer, so I mentally gave myself a high five.

I plugged in hairdryer and combed through the soggy strands of hair.

Just like Mom used to...

When I looked in the mirror, I saw one of my favorite memories. I was seven years old. Volleyball practice had just ended, and I had asked my mother to do my hair in a low fishtail braid. We sat together in my parent's marble bathroom while she did my hair for nearly an hour.

I could hear her soft hum, an innocent tune that carried warmth and tranquility. In the midst of swinging my dangling feet, my mom declared she was finished. I turned toward the mirror, and my mouth dropped in awe of her skill.