A Place

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How did she do that? Rosco was looking at his neck the next morning in the bathroom. He stared at the purple spot on the side of his neck. Had Carrie given him a hickey, and he didn't even know it? 

He didn't know what Gordy's mother might think if she saw it. He promised he'd paint the basement today in the color she wanted. Something, the color of merky blue.

Rosco couldn't smile about the hickey. He just stared at it. Of course, he had no idea what Carrie's lips actually felt like on his own. Maybe he'd never know. He should have been playing something on his guitar instead of staring at the hickey in the mirror. Where was his life going?

Emily had certainly bounced back. She'd found the jackpot. Evidently. Changed her name to Crystal. His luck, he'd find out she'd won Next Top Model- the scene edition. It was starting to sink in that this was really over. And she hadn't had to come clean about anything.

His teeth clinched. He never had a chance to even put his mother's engagement ring back in her jewelry box. It was still in his jeans pocket. He carried the ring with him in his change. Funny thing, nothing was going to change, was it?

He turned off the bathroom light and stood there in the dark for the longest time. Just to be still. He didn't know when it happened. He loathed Emily. He never wanted to lay eyes on her, again.

In the silence he went to get the paint. In a dull mode he washed away the idea to ever think of this place as his and Emily's. It was just a basement. A dingy old basement that needed a lot of work. But if he thought of this place for someone else. Some one who needed a place to go, to get away from it all, then he could do this. He knew it wasn't his place. It would never be just his place.

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