Messy

I take another sip of my glass of shitty $4.49 Riesling as another carpenter ant crawls up my unshaved shin. Is this what I’ve become? I think to myself. I sip once more, knowing fully well I will have heartburn in 20 minutes. Damn this wine is shitty.

Last night was supposed to be fun. I was supposed to be fun. Instead, I found myself covering my crotch when he went for the tie on my shorts. I wouldn’t do it. I couldn’t do it. The last time I did it, bad things happened to me. Very bad things.

His mouth felt the same as all of their mouths: taut and wet. It was as if when I kissed him, I was kissing all of them. Every guy I had ever been with. Which, for your information, wasn’t actually that many. But they still remained, despite that.

My phone dinged and vibrated. “You have a new message from Carl.” I let out a sigh and force-touched the screen to open the message. I skimmed the speech bubble’s contents and replied with the usual “It’s going. You?” I wasn’t that original.

Another sip. I didn’t want to waste the nice bottle of Riesling from the local winery. That was too good. Too good for me. Here comes the heartburn, I shutter as acid from my stomach filters into my throat.

Knock, knock. My roommate was at the door. I put the glass of wine under my desk and walked towards the door.

–Elizabeth Lacey

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Hit or Miss

“What are you thinking about right now?” he asked, stroking my hair with his hand. He looked into my eyes intensely as he waited for a response.

I looked past him and around the room. The dirtied white walls, clothes covering the floor. How did I get here? I looked around some more to prevent my eyes meeting his again. I stared at the ceiling.

“I have the same smoke detector in my room,” I replied.

He laughed at my remark and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

“You’re so funny. Do you know that, Katie?” he asked, still with his fingers caught in my hair.

“Yes I do.”

He laughed again and lunged back on top of me. I allowed him to make this move while peering at the digital clock to the right of me. 11:43 PM. I would give him fifteen more minutes.

“Oh Katie, I really like spending time with you.”

“Mm hmm.”

“I should get you back now, shouldn’t I?”

“Yeah I wouldn’t want to turn into a pumpkin.”

            I laid on the unmade full size bed, looking up again yet at a different ceiling. My dress was above my knees. I was wondering how much longer this would take when I heard the door squeak open.

“Who are you?” a thin brunette with a long nose asked me.

“I’m his friend.”

“I’m his girlfriend. Get out.”

“Sure.”

I pulled my dress down and went to put on my shoes. I slipped each black bootie on one at a time. I grabbed my bag and jacket from the hook and walked out the door down the stairs.

“What are you doing here?” a male voice screamed as I made my way out the door.

“Are you kidding me? Again?” the brunette screamed back.

I was outside when I heard things being thrown around. I picked up my pace and ran back home in the rain, my heels clicking on the pavement.

            “I’ll have the butter chicken,” I asked the waitress, taking a sip of my water.

“And how spicy would you like that? From one to five?”

“I’ll have five, please.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes.”

“And you?”

“I’ll have the lamb vindaloo five, please,” he requested.

“And are you sure about the five?”

“Why not?”

“Okay, I’ll have that out in a bit,” the waitress replied as she left the table.

Our food was soon out and on the table.

“Five really is spicy,” he remarked, taking generous gulps of his water. He coughed a bit and inhaled some of the plain rice.

“Mm hmm.”

“How can you even eat that, Katie?”

“I don’t know.”

It actually wasn’t all that spicy.

            “Do you mind if I hold you hand?” he asked as we left the bistro.

I shook my head and soon his hand was grabbing mine. We walked into the park as it was drizzling. Soon, we were sitting down on a damp park bench, hands still intertwined.

“I had a really good time today, Katie,” he said as he looked into my eyes.

I smiled in response.

“Did you?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he said with a smile. He was still looking into my eyes. He moved over a bit and his lips were on mine.

The rain started to lighten up. I had to pee. I should’ve gone before we left the restaurant.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked, holding my face.

“Mm hmm.”

“I wore a different shirt in the car because I knew I’d sweat,” he confessed.

“Wow.”

He continued to kiss me.

“Oh Katie I really like you.”

            “You aren’t going to eat your pickle?” he asked, pointing at what was left on my plate.

“No. I don’t like pickles.”

“Can I have it?”

“Mm hmm.”

He grabbed the pickle from right in front of me, throwing it into his mouth.

“So are we going back to your place?” he asked as he got up from his chair.

I got up as well and walked in the direction of my apartment. I unlocked the door and he followed me into my room.

“This is nice, Katie,” he said as he put his hand to my face.

He went back in to kiss me. I opened my eyes and looked past his face at my watch. 1:45 PM. I would say I have to meet a friend in thirty minutes.

His beard tickled my chin and I tried not to pull away. All I could taste were pickles.

            He took a sip of his iced coffee and leaned in closer.

“I can’t believe I’m living in the apartment underneath you next year!” he remarked.

“Mm hmm.”

“What are the chances?”

“I don’t know.”

“So want to go back to your place and make out for a bit?”

“How long do you think that would take?” I asked as I looked at my watch. I had twenty minutes.

He slurped what was rest in the cup, shaking to make the ice melt more.

“Well I don’t have a condom so it wouldn’t be long.”

“Maybe next time.”

“Are you sure, Katie?”

“Oh I’m very sure.”

“Well I’ll see you around,” he retorted as he gave me a peace sign and headed down to where he lived. I just kept on walking straight ahead to where I had to be.

            I waited on line in the Starbucks listening to whatever podcast was on my phone. I wasn’t wearing my glasses so I couldn’t see what was on the menu.

“Good morning,” I said once I got to the register.

“Good morning. What can I get for you?”

“A grande café latte please.”

“What’s the name?”

“Kate.”

“Any bakery items with that?”

“No thank you.”

“That will be $5.35.”

I scanned my card and moved along. The hosts were still talking in my ears about this week’s topic. I looked outside for a while.

“Grande latte for Katie!”

I grabbed the drink on the counter and nodded to the barista.

It’s Kate.

131: I Should Have

Sequel to “I Could Have

When I first told my family I was capable of such evil, they didn’t believe me. I was a good girl. I was the favorite child. I was not a bad person.

“You didn’t do anything bad. You didn’t know about him.”

I should have known. I should have remembered my place.

My mom attempted to console me on the phone as I laid in my twin XL bed hidden under the covers. I hadn’t gotten out of bed yet for the day. I didn’t feel like it. The tears from my eyes made contact with the glass of my iPhone and made a greater area of my cheek wet. I hadn’t stopped crying today. I didn’t feel like it.

My roommate came back from the dining hall and just looked at me under the large duvet. She went back to her work and I knew that was the cue to hang up the phone. I pressed the red circle on its white icon and went back to bed.

I saw her. I saw the girlfriend on the plaza the next day. She looked through me. I looked down. The tears came back.

I should have known. I should have remembered my place.

via See Jane Write: 365 Blog Post Ideas and Writing Prompts

126: I Could Have

I could have avoided all that trouble if I had only remembered to know my place.

I sheepishly walked into the basement of the party, lights flashing and music blasting. I was surrounded by bodies; bodies jumping, bodies grinding, bodies screaming. This was one of the first times that I had been in a place like this. Part of me liked it.

From across the room, we made eye contact. I looked at him in his costume and he looked at me in mine. Soon, we were dancing.

And soon, we were going back to his place. He opened the door to his room and I followed him inside as shyly as earlier. I had never done this before.

We took a break for him to go to the bathroom. I felt tired; I wanted to leave. Suddenly, a brunette entered the bedroom.

“Who are you?” she asked me.

“I’m his friend.”

“I’m his girlfriend.

I immediately pulled my skirt down and headed for my heels. I grabbed the rest of my items and trampled down the stairs. I could hear them yelling above me as I darted out into the rain.

If I had only remembered to know my place. 

via See Jane Write: 365 Blog Post Ideas and Writing Prompts

Exposed

I woke up with nothing on but my pants around my ankles, caught on my boots. What happened last night?

I felt a bubbling in my stomach and ran to the bathroom in only a towel. I pulled up the toilet seat and saw last night’s dinner. Wiping my mouth, I flushed the toilet. After having food poisoning, I was used to this. I continued the routine, pouring myself a cap of Listerine and placing toothpaste on my toothbrush.

I turned the shower on, placing my hand underneath to find the right temperature. When it was warm enough, I hopped in and let the water cascade over my hungover body. My shampoo tingled on my scalp, the foam falling onto my shoulders.

When I was done cleansing myself of last night, I climbed out and patted myself with the towel. Wrapping it around me again, I went back to my room.

1 New Message

Hey how are you feeling?

I checked the phone calls I made and there it was. I shuddered and looked at the messages I sent earlier. I cringed even more.

What happened last night?

via Daily Prompt: Exposed

125: The Noise That Won’t Go Away

That snore in my room.

That leaf blower in my room. It revs itself up to send away fallen leaves. Yet it won’t turn on. It just keeps on churning, attempting to find the air to function. Once found, it puffs out air and silences itself for a while.

That spoon stuck in the garbage disposal in my room. It rattles when the switch is flipped. No one knows why the sink is clanking. Back and forth, the spoon moves between the blades. It keeps on clinking until the utensil is removed.

That old radiator in my room. The clonking from inside the pipes that can be heard throughout. It is almost summer; the heat no longer needs to be turned on. Once shut off, the pipes take a while to stop moving.

That mail truck moving over potholes in my room. The car bumps up and down, the underneath hitting the cracks of the street. It stops every few houses to drop off papers. Rough driving ceases for only a while.

That opened bottle of soda in my room. Once the cap is twisted off, the bubbles sizzle to the surface. They encapsulate the tongue. The pink organ is stimulated and cannot rest. Rest only comes when the soda goes flat.

That damn snore in my room.  

via See Jane Write: 365 Blog Post Ideas and Writing Prompts