Polk Salad Annie

Chapter 6

Conan woke up with a frown on his face. It was so hot, unbearable. He yawned, placing his hand over his eyes to block the blinding sun. He sat on the bed and looked around. It was his room, too familiar. And then, he remembered. A beautiful girl in a baby blue dress. She smelled like strawberries. They came to his hotel room; she stayed over... what was her name again?

Annie.

His memories came back slowly; he felt the heat was still on. He was sweating in his bed, looking confused. He didn't know what time it was. He looked for his underwear amidst his clothes, scattered on the floor. He put it on. He would have no reason to be completely naked, if something hadn't happened the night before. He then closed his curtains, the sun was hitting his eyes and making his head hurt.

Where was she?

There was no sign of Annie, anywhere in his bedroom. He went to his living room... nothing. He turned off the heat, cursing himself for leaving it on all that time, the house was burning up like a furnace. He went to his bathroom and looked at the mirror, looking for any clue, a hickey, or something that really confirmed they had sex. Nothing. He opened his trash can. A used condom was there. He wasn't insane.

But again, where was she?

She didn't leave a note, a trace of her existence. She also didn't leave a number. Just a name. Annie. Damn you, Annie. Her smell was only in his mind now, even the smell had faded away. He looked at his living room door, hoping she'd forgotten her shoes like she did on the diner, so he could have a reason, a strong reason to look for her. But no, she took it all away. She took the dress away, she took her shoes away. He came back to his bedroom and turned on the light. His sweater was neatly placed on his typewriter's chair. He sighed. Maybe she didn't want to stay? Maybe she had an appointment or she could be late for work. But why didn't she leave a number? Why didn't she...?

He shook his head. He had a headache; he was hungry, sleepy and a bit pissed off to say the least. He was sweating profusely, so maybe a cold shower would help to clear his mind. He went to his bathroom, eager to clean himself and think about what he should do. Yes, the water was really cold. He shivered when it entered in contact with his body. He let the water run down him, washing all his sweat. He closed his eyes, thinking about the girl. Who knew Annie? Matt, his head writer. Would it be desperate to call him looking for a random girl on his day off? Yes.

Conan thought about letting it go. Annie for sure didn't want to be bothered, she almost didn't tell him her name, maybe by distraction, or maybe... because she just wanted a night with him. They didn't get in any kind of deal on how the sex would unfold. She just took him all over. He didn't regret anything, but he really had to know if this was just a one night stand or...

He had things to figure out. His show started the day after. He didn't have time for that. It was just a fling, consensual sex... and great sex, by the way. As he exited the bathroom, he remembered how hungry he was and that he hadn't brought a towel, and slowly, the troubles of his new job and the things he had to plan took over his head. He didn't forget her, no. But he had other things in mind. He had to concentrate.

He finally looked at his digital clock in the bedroom, it was half past noon. He decided to eat Chinese food leftovers. He didn't care much. He could rethink his lines for his monologue, alone. He could call his parents or friends for support... but he decided to go back to bed. He was tired after all. He could sleep all day. He was sure he wouldn't sleep through the night. He smiled at himself. What a day tomorrow would be.