Cricket: Ember's Story

Not Ready

I can't believe I let West kiss me. I feel like I don't have the right to go home and face Jesse, who I just had sex with this morning. I'm becoming quite the little slut. Maybe my "job" with Hex is making me change. I don't know. All I know is that West and I are walking back to his place after the meeting so we can "talk" about it.

West lives in a college apartment designed for roommates, so each of the four bedrooms has its own lock. They're set up in a U shape around a communal kitchen area, which has a bathroom attached. It's a pretty nice place. Nicer than anywhere I've ever lived anyway.

I'm looking around when West says, "My bedroom's over here, come on."

He unlocks a door next to the kitchen table. I follow him inside with butterflies in my stomach. When he flips on the light switch, the first thing I notice is that the room is clean. Super clean. The bed is made up with military perfection, and the white carpeted floors bear the ghost tracks of vacuum wheels. It's a tiny room, with no space for anything other than a bed and a desk, but it does have a big window on the far wall.

"Nice," I say, impressed.

"Cleaning helps me stay clean. In more ways than one," West says, closing the door behind him.

"Were you always like that?" I ask curiously.

He laughs. "You shoulda seen my place when I was a junkie. It was disgusting."

"Yeah. I don't know why, but doing drugs makes you so gross," I say.

"Because after awhile nothing matters but using. Not even personal hygiene."

I sit down on the unwrinkled bed. "So."

"So?"

"So," I say. "Why did you kiss me?"

West blushes. "I'm sorry. I have what I'm sure is a very obvious and embarrassing crush on you, as I'm sure you've figured out by now, and I couldn't help it. But I shouldn't have just done it."

I'm so torn. Half of me is screaming at him to do it again, to take me right here on this perfect bed and not stop until morning. But Jesse.

"I really love my boyfriend," I say.

"The one who beats you?" West asks bitterly.

"That's not fair. There's a lot more to him than that. You don't know him like I do," I say defensively.

"Yeah I'm sure he's a great guy. Great guys are always going around beating on women. Oh wait..."

"Until and unless you know him like I do, you're not allowed to judge him."

"I'm plenty allowed." West rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything else about it. He sits down next to me on the bed. Then he says,

"I'm sorry about Adam. I really am. The way you talked about him when we got coffee that time made it obvious you really love him."

My heart squeezes inside my chest. "Thanks. He was like my brother."

"Tell me about him."

I'm not sure I can without breaking down again, but I try. "Adam really was a great guy. According to every definition, even yours. He was kind and thoughtful, when he was sober. He cared very much about what everyone thought or felt, and he wouldn't leave any of us behind. The loyalty was... something else. He was a sensitive, dreamer type... like the ones who look too closely at the world and then can't live with what they see... like Kurt Cobain, Robin Williams... that type of person. He was beautiful, but hurting all the time and no one, and nothing, could heal that hurt."