Dirt

The King

    Luckily I had slept with my back towards the rising sun and therefore spared myself much of the sun burn I could have possibly had. The back of my arms were pink and tender even though they had been shielded by the layer of sand and earth that covered my entire body.
    I sat up abruptly and took a look at my surroundings; dried twigs lacking in leaves, rocks ranging in colours from grey to beige, shrubs that had long ago died but lived on none the less, and then there was Trevor. He appeared so peaceful, as if he had learned to sleep just about anywhere you could imagine him to.
    I must admit that it had crossed my mind for a fraction of a second to get up and leave. The events of the previous night were hazy in my mind but the strange affection I felt for the man lingered. I was unsure of how to go about waking him up, or if I should attempt to wake him up at all. His snores were menacing, like a fierce animal rendered harmless in hibernation, but I knew that I had to leave this place and I wouldn't be leaving without him.
    I lifted my hand and let it linger above his arm where my head had rested, hesitant with a twinge of fear I convinced myself that since I had been in contact with him for a number of hours this would be no different. I allowed my hand to fall onto his arm, "Trevor." I could only muster a whisper even though there was nothing around us that would have been disturbed by my voice.
    He was largely unresponsive to this so I slid my hand onto this shoulder and shook it ever so slightly. At this he turned to his other side, mumbling incomprehensibly and shrugging my hand off of him. "Trevor!" I shoved at his backside with a little more force before moving backwards and positioning myself in a stance of self protection with arms outstretched in front of me.
    "Fuck off." He grumbled without turning around, much less of a climactic reaction than I had expected.
    Whether he knew where he was or who was so rudely shoving him I did not know, I let my defences down and crawled back towards him, setting my hand down more tenderly on his side. "It's Nora, I need a lift back to my trailer because my asshole friends are nowhere to be found and if I'm out here for a minute longer I'm likely to burst into flames."
    With a groan Trevor lifted himself into a sitting position, squinting at the merciless desert sun with disdain, "Oh yeah." He stated without looking at me, "Well let's go then." He stood up abruptly and dusted the sand off of his pants as if that would do any good for their level of cleanliness, then began making his way back towards the now empty parking lot.
    I was taken aback by how nonchalant he appeared to be and found myself still sitting cross-legged on the ground as he walked away, "Do you plan on sitting here all day sugar-tits? Because if that's your plan I'll just come by and pick you up later once I'm good and drunk." The thought of getting drunk again made the headache I hadn't yet noticed quite apparent in my skull. I brought myself to my feet and followed him warily, wondering if he remembered nearly as much about the night before as I did.
    "Where are you staying?" He inquired while kicking a stone oddly shaped like a head which was blocking the path of his shoe; he gazed back at me for a moment.
    "A trailer on the corner of Mountain View and Algonquin, pretty close to here." I informed him while keeping my eyes averted to the ground.
    He gave no response and when I looked to meet his face Trevor grinned at me, the same shit-eating grin from the previous night. It's embarrassing to have to admit but I found comfort in it, suddenly feeling much less alone. "Well shit, that's right near my place, would you like a grand tour of the neighbourhood? I know a guy who does a great Elvis impression after he's shot up."
    There was nothing more I would rather see than a decrepit Elvis junkie but I knew that I the sooner that I faced Quinn and Jade the less likely I would be viciously attacked by them for making them think I had been murdered by an eccentric drunk and had lost my share of our precious party money in doing so. "That sounds spectacular, but I need to check in with my friends, they've probably assumed you killed me and had your way with my body." I laughed.
    Trevor scoffed, "Trust me, I wouldn't have it any other way but then you had to go and soften me up with vodka. I guess it isn't too late for me to strangle you and molest your body though right?"
    "Of course not, what kind of a man would you be if you gave up that easily." I gave him a smile to which he smiled back, more sweetly that the subject matter of our conversation.
    Trevor drove a flaking red pick up with no roof, it was a literal representation of himself in truck form. I couldn't help but wonder how often it rained in Sandy Shores but at the same time I knew he was not one to care about getting wet. It didn't surprise me that the doors were unlocked nor did it surprise me that the truck was lacking in seat-belts, I doubted Trevor had ever been concerned with his own safety and much less the safety of others.
    We took to the roads which were largely unpopulated for 7 in the morning, leading me to make the assumption that not many people around these parts had day jobs, making me pity their money situation but envy their sleeping situation. After 4 hours of sleeping in a pile of pebbles I think I would have envied anyone that had access to a mattress, even if they made their money through the most despicable means possible.
    It was a very short drive before we pulled up to the dilapidated trailer I despised so much, with beer cans littered on the lawn and an awning riddled with holes and wasps nests. I wanted more than anything to tell Trevor to drive away as fast as his truck would allow him and hide me somewhere where only he could find me.
    "Wait here in case they decide to murder me first, I wouldn't want to take your kill away from you." I hopped out of the passenger's seat and closed the door carefully behind me, as if even the slightest of sounds would awaken my much feared companions. I gave Trevor one last glance with the same sinking feeling as if it were my last.
    Each step towards the rusted fold out stairs made my heart skip a beat, and I was unsure exactly what was causing such anxiety. I knew Trevor was much more likely to murder me in cold blood than they ever would be, yet I didn't want to face their cold condescending glares. Murder would be preferable to the shun I would soon face.
    The tiny aluminum stairs threatened to give away as I stood on them, groaning with protest. I raised my hand slowly and knocked on the door, telling myself they would be more glad too see me alive than disgusted with my entire being.
    I knocked four times and there was no response, but I could hear them shuffling around inside like a fish agitated by a young child tapping at the glass siding of its aquarium. "I can hear you in there! Come on, I'm sorry. I came as soon as I woke up!" I pleaded with less sincerity than I should have. I felt almost as if I had done nothing wrong and wondered whether or not I was a terrible person.
    The door swung open swiftly and with force causing me to lose balance and almost fall down the flimsy steps. "Nora you fucking idiot, take your stuff and get the fuck out of my face, I don't want to see you right now. You know we thought you were dead right? That that lunatic took you out back in the desert wilderness and slit your throat? Now fuck off." Quinn picked up my obnoxious green duffle bag and shoved it into my chest causing me yet again to almost fall backwards. "Come back when you learn the meaning of friendship you fucking bitch."
    And like that the door was slammed shut and I was left pounding with my weak fists over and over; hard enough to try and tug at their heartstrings with my attempt to get back in, yet soft enough not to cause any damage to the trailer resulting in extra disdain towards yours truly.
    There was nothing I wanted to have to do less than turn back around and face the so called lunatic who had been kind enough to give me a lift back to the trailer, but I simply had no other option. The smile on his face was that of someone trying their absolute hardest not to laugh but failing miserably. At least he was trying to spare my feelings.
    "Do you wanna go see Elvis?" He asks with a pathetic smirk before bursting into a fit of laughter, hardly able to finish his sentence and mispronouncing Elvis. I didn't know whether I wanted to slap him or kiss him and was too afraid to do either.
    "Yes." Was the only reply I could muster, the possibility of watching someone else's terrible life sounded more lovely to me than anything else I could have imagined. Then again if I started shooting heroine and impersonating the King my quality of life would undoubtably be lovelier than it was at the moment.