Aftertime — Six

Somehow, I had managed to fall back asleep last night after my little hellish dream. Rising out of my bed this morning, however, was proving to be challenging.

I feel like total shit.

My head is pounding, the light is glaring in my eyes and any sound I hear is amplified by like, a million. I press my fingers into my temples as I sit up and swing my legs off the mattress. My journal still on the floor by the bookcase, where it had landed last night.

Despite my pains, I will myself off the bed, snatch up my journal and flop back down in one swift motion. As I land on my butt, it sends a shock wave through my spine, into my brain, causing me to slam my eyes shut and lay back.

This was worse than that time I was nearly eaten by a bear.

I cringe, remembering the injuries I sustained that day. It was not pretty. Surprisingly, I managed to survive.

That was with dad’s help, though.

After a few moments of rubbing my temples again, I roll onto my side, open up my journal and begin to record the night before, in all its stupid glory.

Never again, I tell myself.

Yeah right.

I couldn’t deny that I loved how I felt last night, even though I wish I were dead this morning. Now I can understand why mother drank so much, before…

Shaking my head, I dismiss those memories and jot down more words;

fri — evening
drank wine with trevor
watched movies
ate stew

I stop, debating whether I should write down what happened with the journal last night. Was I being ridiculous? He was reading over my journal, but maybe he didn’t realize it was my journal? No, that’s bullshit. He’s definitely seen me writing it in. He’s even helped me add to it!

Thinking about it was just making me more upset, so I quickly wrote a few lines to remember the incident by;

trev read journal
i got upset

And with that, I slam the journal shut and stand, tucking it into my back pocket.

I’m a bit wobbly as I walk over to the curtain and draw it open, letting even more sunlight into my eyes, frying my brain.

I groan and walk out and over to the wash area, not paying much attention to the mess we left last night.

In the corner and between two bookcases, I finally arrive at my destination. I rub my eyes as I reach up and jerk the curtain open, gasping when I realize the curtain was pulled closed for a reason.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

Trevor is standing there, nearly bare naked, except for his boxers. He’s got a washcloth in hand, and suds dripping down his chest and stomach. My eyes wander for far too long before I am able to force myself to turn around and retreat promptly from the scene.

“Maddy, wait — ” Trev calls out for me, and I hear the water splashing a couple more times — along with some groans and grunts, probably because of how cold it is.

I don’t stop, I march right back into my room and slide the curtain closed quietly, trying to will myself to relax. My cheeks are red from embarrassment, and I really just wanted to slap myself right now.

The curtain inches open a bit, causing me to turn away, retreating to my bed. I sure hope he doesn’t come in like that. Please don’t come in like —

“Maddy, I need to talk to you.” He slips through the small opening, and into my room, and I feel my body heating up, my eyes searching for anything other than his body to look at.

“Um — can this wait? I really don’t feel so — ”

“No, it can’t. I’ve waited long enough,” his voice is rougher than usual, more reserved, and there is no expression on his face. At least not that I can see from the brief glances I make.

I swallow and sit on the edge of my mattress, staring down at the floor. I am in no mood for talking, as my head is still pounding and raging on, and I could really just go for some water, but I can see that he isn’t going to let me go without saying what he wants to. I wait.

There’s a brief silence that fills the library before Trev steps closer to me, his body dripping wet onto the floor. The light glinting off his skin causes me to look up, soaking in the view of him fully now.

I force myself not to react. It’s just some skin, for god's sake!

“Listen, Maddy…” His voice is quiet and soft, perhaps aware of my headache situation. He continues on, and I listen, watching him as he slowly paces over and sits on the bed beside me. “When I found you — ”

“When I found you,” I correct him, not really knowing why.

“Right… when you found me, and brought me here, I didn’t expect you to let me stay. I didn’t even expect you to feed me, but you did. And then you let me stay, too.”

Where is he going with this? Is this some kind of thank-you-for-saving-my-life speech? I peer down at his bare feet, one tapping on the floor. I wish he wasn’t so close.

“Well, remember when I asked if you lived here alone, and you told me your dad was out scouting?”

Uh oh. Oh no. I forgot about that lie. I forgot I ever mentioned my father to him. I cringe, realizing how obvious the lie was now, almost three weeks later. My dad was not out scouting, and now Trevor knew this.

For some reason, I don’t feel good about this.

He must have noticed my body tense up, because now he turns to face me, a small smile planted on his lips. “It’s okay, Maddy. It’s okay that you lied. I understand why you did, it’s just…”

Just what? Oh, god. My body is burning hot, and now I don’t know if it’s because of him being this close or if it’s reacting to the overabundance of alcohol I had last night. Is this how a hangover feels?

“It’s been a little bit now, since we met, you know? And I was just thinking that maybe you had begun to trust me more. Especially with how you reacted when I disappeared yesterday. You seemed worried and I thought, well. I thought maybe you cared.”

I almost shoot out a half-laugh, but somehow I contain it. It’s not that I don’t care. Wait, do I care? I squint my eyes closed, trying to think. Where is all of this coming from? And why right now, of all times?

“Trev — ”

“No, you don’t need to explain anything right now. I know you probably feel like horse shit and want to get washed up, so I won’t keep you. I just wanted you to know, uh — know how I felt, I guess.”

How he felt? That he knows I’m a liar, isn’t surprised but isn’t happy about it either? Maybe I should have told him about my dad. Maybe he should know my father wasn’t scouting, he was dead. He was dead and he was never coming back.

Maybe I just don’t want to admit it to myself.

Without another word between us, Trev stands up and leaves my room, deserting me with my own thoughts. Right now I did not want to be thinking about my dad, at all, so I stand from my spot after taking some deep breaths, and leave the room.

This time before I go in to wash up, I make sure the area isn’t occupied.