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Defeated and desperate, I reach for my phone and send a text to Grady, okay call your friend. Pulling the covers up and over my head, I force myself to go back to sleep, wishing for a dreamless rest.
When I wake up in the morning, I see his reply. You got it, squirrel girl.
I really hope that isn’t going to become a thing. Squirrels have officially become terrifying beasts.
My eyes flick to the time, and I realize that I’m going to be late to work, and I still have to take a shower. Ugh. Walking into the bathroom, I open the cabinet that holds the towels and see that the only thing left is one lonely old washrag that’s covered in stains. I don’t even remember ever seeing this thing. The stains could literally be from anything. Gross.
She took all the towels. Like seriously? First, the couch, then the spoons, and now the towels. It’s like she’s trying to torture me.
Sighing, I stare at the cabinet like towels might reappear, and when they don’t, I realize I’m either going to dry off with a 10x10 inch washcloth or drip dry until I can put my clothes on without soaking them. Which leads me to wonder…
What in the world did I do to deserve this?
TRAVIS
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I try to make sense of what Sydney is saying. Holding the phone away from my ear, I can still make out every word she’s screaming at me.
“It’s just a plant,” I claim when she finally lets me get a word in, “I don’t understand why you’re freaking out.”
“Because it’s not just a plant, Travis. Cinnamon got me through some hard nights when you were being a complete ass,” she starts to yell again. “You don’t care about anything, only yourself, and getting your rocks off.”
I fight the urge to say something terrible to her about her desire to name things without feelings. I’m a dick, but not that big of a dick.
“You’re seriously going to tell me that you’re mad at me because I didn’t water your plants while you were getting your ‘plants’ watered by somebody else.”
“Oooh,” she says mockingly, “really good analogy, Travis, and way to change the subject. We were on a break! A break, Travis!” My eyes roll without me even thinking about it. She always wanted a break, but then God forbid, I even looked at another girl during this so-called break.
Sydney and I have been together off and on for the past three years. Ever since leaving my hometown, Cedar Falls, I’ve been in a string of toxic relationships with crazy girls, but Sydney, crazy doesn’t even begin to describe her. Insane, now that would be a more fitting word. I really need to stop fishing for dates in the looney bin.
Don’t get me wrong, she’s hot... crazy hot. We are just bad for each other in every way, except the bedroom. So usually, we have amazing sex, fight like wild animals, and then take a break. After that, we repeat the cycle. A vicious cycle. One I need to get out of.
This time we took a break because we’ve been fighting nonstop for weeks. While we were on a break, she slept with some guy from work, and he stayed in our apartment for three days while I crashed with a buddy. Then they went out of town together, which she doesn’t think I know about.
“I just don’t see how I could be responsible for the lives of your strange plants,” I say.
Huffing into the receiver, she growls, “You just don’t take anything seriously, Travis. It’s just like our relationship. Our relationship is Cinnamon.”
“You realize how insane that sounds, right? I mean, you have to.” I can’t believe she’s being serious right now.
“No, it’s the truth. We’re Cinnamon.”
“Okay, we’re Cinnamon,” I agree just to shut her up. “So, where does that leave us right now? We’re still on a break, right? These past two days have just been carnal fun?” I need to reestablish that we are definitely on a break.
“Oh, one hundred percent,” she says. “I can’t even look at your stupid sexiness right now.”
“Okay,” I respond, unsure how I should take that. She makes my head hurt. Running my hand over my face, I take a few deep breaths.
“Call me when you get there,” she says, her voice going high at the end. Seriously, we have the weirdest relationship.
“Okay, bye, babe.” Hanging up the phone, I shake my head, ’cause seriously what else can I do? I’m not exactly sure what just happened, but talking to that woman always turns my brain to mush.
Turning the music up a little louder, I set my phone to vibrate and shove it into my pants pocket. If my parents call me, I’ll be able to feel it. I get lost in the music and try to distract myself from how much I hate driving.
An hour later, my phone starts to buzz, and I pull it out, looking down at the caller ID. I smile when I see it’s my buddy, Grady. He always lifts my spirits. Mostly because he’s about the funniest person I know, and every time I see him, we have a good time.
Answering the phone, I say, “What’s up, buddy?”
“Hey, buttercup, how far out are you?” Grady asks.
