Our Contract of Distrust

-- 40 --

Although I can't recall a single time in which I happily bounded out of bed, this morning it takes even more effort than usual.

Lethargy and lack of motivation are things I've generally come to terms with over the last few years.

Initially I tried to overcome the perpetual weariness that crept over my life, but it's hard to find the motivation to be motivated.

How do other people do it?

I know there's a part of me that refuses to ever give up. A part that wishes for more. A part desperate enough to pull others down in order to lift itself up.

But I suppose it's buried too deeply to grasp hold of for the day-to-day grind.

The door opens a fraction and Eddie's eye peers in.

Slowly, with excessive showmanship, she pushes the door open further until her whole tilted head is displayed.

I don't even bother sitting up to ask, "What?"

"Nadi-di-di," she says as her trademark smirk appears, "there's something you'd be interested in going on out here."

My complete lack of a reaction must prompt her to continue.

"Feodor and Trin are having a D&M."

"What?"

With sparkling eyes and quirked eyebrows, she rushes over and forcefully tugs me out of bed.

"Come on. Stealth mode," she accentuates. She seems capable of making a game out of anything.

"What time is it?"

"A bit before 10 I think."

"How long has Feodor been here?"

She smiles sheepishly, "Actually, I haven't been awake that long either."

She half-creeps, half-bounces down the hallway, stopping just before the dining room entrance and lifting a finger to her lips.

I almost roll my eyes at her. Because 1) I've never seen someone with such a spritely creep in my life, and 2) shushing me is never necessary.

"Would that be okay?" Trin's voice carries around the corner.

"Yeah. I'd been meaning to ask for a while now... about, well, a lot," Feodor says.

I imagine Trin is nodding now.

"When...?" Feodor says.

"As soon as possible, I think."

Eddie looks over her shoulder at me; her expression asking, 'do you know what they're talking about?'

I shake my head.

Eddie shrugs and ducks into the entrance then, a hand to her yawning mouth.

"Morning," she says.

"Morning," Trin echoes, "Where's Nadia? Is she still asleep?"

I walk into the room in answer.

"Oh, hey. Do you guys want French toast?" Trin asks.

"Ooh yes please," Eddie says.

I nod without looking at Trin. I'm waiting for Feodor to acknowledge my presence; to give some sort of hint as to what their conversation entailed.

But when his eyes finally meet mine, they're unreadable.

"Fee, can you make tea?" Trin says.

"Sure."

Fee? Since when had they been so buddy-buddy?