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Sitting up, I looked around her bedroom. She was an eclectic kind of girl. Star Wars and Marvel bobble heads sat on shelves in front of posters on the wall of country western music groups, which were tacked next to a plaque for winning sub-state in high school basketball, while Chucks and cowboy boots and high heels lay scattered across the floor in front of a huge open treasure chest-looking trunk that had all sorts of clothes hanging over the side, from black, white and greys to pinks, reds, blues and browns.
From first glance, she appeared to be an assortment of everything.
Behind the door, the toilet flushed and then the faucet ran before Bailey reappeared, stepping into the room and trying to smooth down her wild locks. “Do you need to go?” she asked, motioning behind her and into the bathroom.
I did, but I shook my head no. It was as if accepting one more thing from her—even the use of her facilities—was too much.
“Are you hungry?” she asked next, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and rubbing her stomach.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten, but oddly enough, I wasn’t hungry. So I opened my mouth and rasped the words, “I’m fine.”
There was so much I knew I should say. Thank you. Sorry. Thank you again. But the words didn’t come, and I felt even more lacking.
Bailey cleared her throat, and I knew my muteness was only making her feel more uneasy. “Well, you should eat anyway.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “All my roommates have probably left for the day. I’m going to go to the kitchen and grab us some breakfast.” When I didn’t respond, she lifted her eyebrows and added, “Okay?”
I moved my head up and down to mollify her, and she finally left the room. That’s when I swung my feet over the side of the mattress and lowered them to the floor before rising to a stooped-over stand. My ribs screamed in protest, so I hugged them close as I looked down at myself.
I was still wearing everything, even my sneakers, from the night before. I blinked at them, wondering if I’d ever slept in my shoes before. Unable to remember a time when I had, I glanced up and spotted my keys on the nightstand.
I grabbed them and took my first halting step toward the door. Ten more later, I could finally straighten my back fully, and five more after that, I reached out and turned the handle before opening up and glancing into a quiet hall.
It looked safe, so I stepped from her room and headed toward what looked like an opening of a living room. I didn’t remember much of the floorplan from the night before. It’d been dark and I’d been out of it.
Another rash of embarrassment heated my cheeks. I couldn’t believe the way I’d reacted. I’d never been so needy and overcome before. Yes, my mother’s rejection had staggered me, but I should’ve been able to weather it.
I hadn’t, and I hated that weakness about me.
Once I hit the living room, noises from one direction told me the kitchen was that way where Bailey was making breakfast. I went the other way, hurrying toward a banister that wrapped around a descending stairwell. After easing down the steps, I pulled open the door, burrowed deeper into my hoodie at the blast of cold morning air, and I stepped outside.
My truck sat across the street. I ignored the scratch marks starting from the front fender and ended halfway down the side of the bed, and unlocked the door before climbing inside and starting the engine.
Before pulling out into the street, I looked up at the apartment I’d stayed in overnight and shook my head, feeling shitty.
I hadn’t thanked her, not for a single thing. I had no idea where I’d be right now if she hadn’t pulled me together and brought me back to her place, if she hadn’t held me while I’d fallen apart and let me sleep comforted in her arms. She deserved more than me taking off without even a thank you, and yet she deserved more than me sticking around too.
I wasn’t in a position where I could repay her for anything. Right now, I could only take. Someone as giving and supportive as her didn’t need a me in her life.
When I checked my fuel level, I cursed under my breath to see it nearly at a full tank. I vaguely recalled Bailey filling it up for me. Dammit, was there anything she hadn’t done for me last night?
I wasn’t her responsibility. Actually, I wasn’t anyone’s responsibly. Not anymore. I needed to take care of myself. As I turned a corner at the end of the block and glanced into the rearview mirror, the flapping lid of a box in the bed caught my attention.
First thing first, I should probably find a place for my shit. Leaving it out in the open much longer would only invite thieves. So after finding the first dumpster I saw behind a business building, I pulled up next to it and got out to sort my things.
Most of it had been broken or destroyed, so it was fairly easy to weed out the clothes and amenities I could salvage. Those went into the backseat as I tossed the rest into the trash. When I came across my electronic tablet, lap top computer and a watch I’d never worn, and none of them had been destroyed, I paused, looking them over before an idea hit.
Once the bed of my truck was clean, I found a pawnshop. I sat outside the store for nearly an hour, going through files and pictures, emailing the ones I wanted to keep to myself before deleting the rest and wiping all my personal shit from everything. Then I untethered my internet connection to them from my phone and hugged both tablet and computer to my chest for a few seconds in farewell.
The pawnshop owner offered me a pathetically low price for them, but I wasn’t in a position to haggle. As he counted up my cash, he squinted at me and tipped his head to the side.
“You look awfully familiar. Do I know you?”
I dipped my chin down so the bill of my hat would cover more of my face. “Don’t think so,” I mumbled, hoping like hell he didn’t recognize me from the news. I needed that money he was only seconds away from handing me; if he realized who I was, I wasn’t so sure he’d be willing to buy my things any longer. People could be so finicky when dealing with a news-reported rapist.
But he never figured it out, just frowned and shook his head before scratching his chin and handing me the dirty, tattered stack of bills across the counter.
“Thank you.” I took them with a suddenly shaking hand and sent him a nod of gratitude before I
got the hell out of there.
