I was awoken by the sharp light cutting through sheer, white curtains. A breeze flowing in, lifting the mesh up high, letting as much air in to stroke my skin until it woke me. I moaned and turned over. As soon as I recognise there’s light, I can’t sleep and won’t be able to go back to sleep. It’s probably one of my most annoying traits; I can’t sleep even with the faintest hint of light on.
I turned to my side and stretched, then back on my back and stretched again, hearing my elbows cracking. That was when I heard footsteps outside. I rubbed the corners of my eyes before I opened them. The room was different to what I was sleeping in at Chloe’s. Did she redecorate while I was sleeping? What’s going on? I opened my eyes wider and angled my head up to scan the room. Clothes were strewn everywhere. Men’s clothes. A tallboy in the corner with a TV atop; an open closet, filled with more clothes and a guitar on the floor next to a PlayStation container.
“Chloe!?” I yelled, concern colouring my voice.
A rush of footsteps trotted until the door flew open. I lifted the sheet over my mouth, anticipating a man with shackles coming my way. A key dangling on his wrist like a bracelet. But no, it was Mark.
I sighed in relief. “Oh, what are you doing here?”
He chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning on the side of the doorway. “You’re in my room.”
I looked around. Out the window, down to the clothes on the floor. “Oh, God. Did we—?”
“No, no,” he quickly interjected. “Definitely not. Necrophilia isn’t really my thing.”
I chuckled shamefully and plopped my head back onto the pillow. A headache drumming so hard my jaw started hurting. “What happened?” I groaned.
“A lot,” he rubbed his face with both palms. “You were drunk. And high.” I nodded both times. “Then you started making out with me.”
He laughed at my reaction. “You passed out pretty quickly. I think part of the headache you’re feeling is from hitting the bathtub.”
“Ugh, God.” Thus is my lowest point.
“Kennie liked you by the way. Wants to hang out more.”
“Oh yeah. I really liked her, too.” I had a vague memory of her, but the vibe I got was good. I picked myself up from the bed and started fixing myself. “Sorry about pouncing on you by the way.”
He shrugged. “It’s okay.”
I followed him to the kitchen where he was cooking breakfast. I was looking forward to a warm hearty meal, and was elated when I found two white plates on the dining table. “No really, I’m having a difficult time dealing with certain things.” My voice sort of faded off in the end.
“Yeah, I know. I saw.”
“You saw?” I asked confusedly.
Mark nodded. “Your phone.”
I blinked a few times, surprised. “You went through my phone?”
He shrugged like it was nothing. “Yeah. Your password is pretty easy to crack, you should change it.”
“How the hell would you even…why would you even…?” I was shaking my head, trying to make sense of his actions.
“Look, no harm no foul. I saw the text messages between you and Daniel. Your ex I’m guessing.”
I gulped and nodded. “Yeah…”
“You better stop talking to him now.”
“What? Why?” I couldn’t control it but infuriation began to bubble. I managed to keep it at a low simmer though.
“The way you two were talking to each other. It’s unhealthy. It’s going to get spiteful and before you know it, one day you’re going to regret a relationship you truly loved and invested yourself in, and it’ll make you bitter.”
“Since when are you a connoisseur on relationships?”
He shovelled eggs onto my plate and poured me a cup of orange juice. “I used to be in one remember? Happens sooner or later. Eventually, you realise you just can’t do the whole ‘friend’ thing.”
“This is that When Harry Met Sally… complex, isn’t it?”
He laughed. “Hey, I’m not paraphrasing. I’m speaking from experience. Besides, the movie had a point. In a sense I mean, they were talking in a different context.”
I sighed. “I think it’ll be wasted if I stop talking to him. Like all our time together was for nothing.”
“You’ll feel guilty. It’s normal. But better to feel guilty about something you loved, than hateful about something you regret.”
“Hmm,” I mused, enlightened, “I never looked at it that way.”
“I’ll be here all week, 9-to-5,” he winked.
I laughed, glad I was getting a guys’ perspective; well, more so that it was Mark’s perspective. I wonder if I should tell him about the whole Adam thing. Or maybe he already knows and he thinks I’m on the right track. Maybe it’ll be too much; I’d be flooding him with guy problems.
“So,” I forked a wiggling piece of egg into my mouth, “did I mess up your game?”
He laughed. “Of course. I’m not mad, though. There’s always tomorrow.”
“Hey, what’s with this number on my hand?”
It was slightly smudged but I could still make out the digits. It was a phone number but no one’s I knew.
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “You met someone? Don’t you remember?”
I tried pushing through the fog of that night but the purple haze was too strong. I shook my head after I wondered for a moment. “Don’t think so. Do you?”
“Sort of. I have a vague memory of you and some guy yapping on and on like two Real Housewives experiencing gossip for the first time at one point, but that’s about it.” It was quiet for a moment. “You should call him.”
I scrunched my face, taken aback. “Sounds like I picked someone up and I don’t think I’m even the slightest bit ready yet.”
“You don’t even know if it’s a date. Just call. Take a chance. Fucking live life.”
I sighed. All I was thinking about was making it right with Daniel. If I was going to end it then I wanted to end it on a better note than what happened last night. Our reactions to each other last night isn’t the lasting memory I want to keep of our relationship for the rest of my life. I just hope Daniel feels the same way.
But first, I’d rather text the guy from the party instead of calling him.