I was anxious, I’ll admit. I drummed my nails furiously on the heavy wooden desk, listening to the infinite buzz of the computer screen. My phone lay idly on the plush comforter of my bed and I couldn’t help but to glance at it for the fifth time. The screen was dark; there weren’t any messages from John or any missed calls. I groaned.
I ran my badly bitten fingers through my tangled hair and focused once more on the computer screen. I grabbed the mouse with little purpose and scrolled through the latest celebrity gossip. The screen seemed too bright, the wardrobe malfunctions and breakups failed to grab my attention. With renewed hope I spun around to check my phone’s screen once more.
It was still dark.
Maybe he’s busy.
Yeah maybe. I busied myself by creating excuses for why he hadn’t called yet. I’m sure whatever he has to say is important, he didn’t sound like himself this morning.
Maybe he’s out with friends, cut him some slack.
I was satisfied with that thought and held onto its coattails. I closed the window on the screen and turned on some music. My soft, soprano voice fills the room as I sing to one of my favorite songs, ignoring the sickening pit forming in my stomach and the black face of my phone burning into my skin.
The room was hazy and full of smoke. I woke up to a woman’s wild laugh and soft music. Beads of sweat are racing down my angular face, my hair is plastered onto my forehead. I’m trying to speak but my throat is dry. I reach out, groping for a glass of water, something to relieve me. Instead a smaller hand grabs mine and brings it to a pair of painted lips. I can’t find the face; the smoke veils their features. I look down to see the hand is very feminine, the nails freshly manicured.
A small, brunette woman leans forward and takes my hand once again, kissing each of my fingertips and smearing them with her bloody lipstick. My waist is numb and I cannot keep my body from shivering. I must have made a face because the woman chuckles and whispers, “Relax sweetheart, you’re safe.” Her voice was seductive, almost melodic. It sank into my muscles, easing the tension immediately and even instilling a sense of trust. I let her tug my shirt from my waist without doubt or question – I helped her unbutton my pants. Laying back, I let her probe my body as she wished and I laughed and she laughed too, both drowing in the high of the ecstacy.
I felt my phone digging into my skin so I pulled it out of my jeans pocket and checked the screen. It was past midnight. I checked my call log to see that the last time I spoke to Amy was in the morning, when I told her we had to talk.
I hurriedly dialed her number but the brunette beauty gently pulled the phone from my fingers and kissed me hard on the lips. I embraced her and kissed her back, letting the thought of Amy, my girlfriend, slip away.