Chapter 4
Elijah
The ride to her apartment is much more enjoyable than I expected it to be. Her scent is all around me. Cinnamon and sugar. I might have pretended to be scared once or twice so that I could hold her more tightly. It can’t be proven.
We’re here now, and her apartment does in fact have stairs. Unfortunately, I’ve started feeling the effects of whatever that jack wagon tried to give his date. My eyes are unfocused as I get off the bike, and my legs aren’t nearly as sturdy as I remember them being earlier in my life.
I think that Macy loves me. I know that I love her. Drinking that wine was the smartest thing I’ve ever done. Ever done. Ever done? Why does that sound weird? Did I say it out loud? Out loud. Aloud? Allowed. I can see the words I’m thinking. Phew. I’m dizzy.
“Oh shit. Nope. Not yet. You have to get yourself up these stairs.”
That’s right. Macy. “You’re so pretty. Did you know that?”
“Uh huh.” Her voice is strained and clipped.
“Course ya do. You know you. You see you.”
“Yep. Keep moving, soldier.”
“Oh shit. How did you know?”
“You told me. Please hurry. You’re heavy.”
“I told you I’m a soldier? Wow. I must really like you. Did I tell you about my brother, too?” Why do I sound drunk?
“Nope. Maybe we should call him to help get you up these stairs.”
Call Abe? Yeah. I wish we could call Abe.
Macy fumbles with her keys, and I lean on her so I can help. She falls into the door, making a loud banging sound when her head connects with it.
“Shhhh.” I tell her. She’s going to wake the neighbors. Sheesh.
She holds her palm against her forehead as she glares at me the way my mom used to when I ruined good clothes at the creek.
I don’t know how it’s my fault that she’s making so much noise.
Finally, she gets the door open, and I help her inside, but she’s the one panting and struggling.
You’d think she was carrying bags of cement the way she’s carrying on.
Finally, I get us into her bedroom. I’m not sure how I know where it is, but I go straight to it, and we only hit the walls in the hallway twice. She pushes me onto the bed, and I bounce. It’s possible that I fell onto the bed, but I find that highly unlikely.
“Elijah, I need you to move. Please. Just do this one last thing, and you can pass out, okay?”
“Pass out. Got it.”
“No, no, no. Elijah. Elijah!”
“I’m right here. You don’t have to yell. Damn it, woman. You’re going to wake our neighbors.”
“They’re my neighbors, and you’re the one crashing into the walls and doors. I just need you to scoot up a little further in the bed and roll onto your stomach.”
“Your neighbors, crash on my stomach. Okay.”
She lets out what sounds like a frustrated breath before she over-enunciates her next words, “Scoot up in the bed.”
I look up toward the headboard and, why does it look so far? Do it. It’s going to make her happy. We like her happy. I scoot as close to it as I can, but my body is somewhere else, and I can’t go far without it.
“Okay. That’s good enough. Now, roll over.”
I look down at her. “Do we have a dog?”
She slaps a palm to her forehead. “You don’t live here. Please, roll over onto your stomach.”
I comply, even though her hands are clearly empty of any treats.
“Oh, thank God.” She sounds so relieved. I did some good rolling over. I’m not even upset that she doesn’t have treats. She’s proud of me.
Keys jingle as Macy scoops them up off the floor and leaves the room.
She’s gone for so long that I try to get up to go find her, but my boots are talking, and it would be rude to interrupt their conversation.
Finally, she comes back and starts rummaging through drawers.
She has clothes in her hands as she walks into another room.
She’s making me dizzy with all this moving around.
When she reenters the room, she’s wearing silky baby blue night things.
Bed clothing. Sheets. Sleep suit. Shit. There’s another word somewhere. I can’t find it.
She definitely isn’t wearing a tit halter. Booby bundler. Ah fuck it.
“Macy?” Nothing. She doesn’t respond and continues moving around the room. “Macy?” Still nothing. “Macy?!”
Suddenly, she stops and looks over at me. She looks guilty. “Yeah?”
“Did you not hear me? I said your name nine times.”
She splutters out a small laugh. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I heard you. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I need you to put my legs back on before your parents get here. You know...I was thinking. Maybe your dad didn’t have a penis.”
“You did not just say that.”
“Maybe, when he was getting all his parts, he traded it for a paintbrush. Your face, it’s...it’s like art.”
She’s sitting beside me on the bed now, and she laughs again. Violins and waves. She gets up, walking to the end of the bed, and taking off my boots.
“Oh shit, they’re back. I thought for sure you’d have to chase them down.” Macy just smiles and continues to loosen the laces on my boots.
“I have something to tell you.” She says in a quiet voice.
“Let ‘er rip tater chip. I’m all ears.”
She laughs again. Man, I am on a biscuit. A biscuit. I am on a wheel. Roll? Am I high? I’ve never been high, but I’m almost certain that the stubble on my face is mapping out the steps to the Macarena, and that doesn’t seem right, so I think I might be high.
“I think I’ll wait and tell you tomorrow. Something tells me that all divulgence of information tonight will be wasted.”
I yawn loudly and scare myself. Macy laughs again when I’m startled. “Macy?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you love me yet?”
Macy stills. She isn’t facing me. She’s sitting beside me on the bed again, and only her profile is visible. Her face changes. She’s sad. Something else, too. Regret? Or guilt, possibly. Did I do that? Thoughts are coming so slowly, and I’m uncertain of all of them.
“Not yet.” She says it with a sadly placating lilt to her tone.
I yawn loudly again. “You will. Give it time. We probably shouldn’t have moved in together until you loved me, though.”
It smells different in here. Maybe it’s this puddle of what I hope is my drool.
This definitely isn’t my bedroom. Shit. What did I do?
Please tell me I didn’t go home with someone.
My elbows protest as I lift up to look around.
This is definitely a woman’s bedroom. The style is eclectic.
It’s all bright colors and femininity. I don’t even remember this girl’s name.
That’s not going to go well. Is she even here?
I sit up on the side of the bed, and my brain wars with my skull for dominance in an epic battle of wills.
Ah hell. What did I drink? What do I remember?
Scanning my memories, there are only scraps of information.
They kept calling. I left my phone at home and walked to.
..the Cornerstone. Yeah. I went to Cornerstone.
The girl. Macy. She was so beautiful. Then, there was Paul Walker.
..Paul Walker? No. The pretty boy. The ex-boyfriend.
Ah shit. I roofied myself. Is this her apartment?
“Good morning, soldier.”
The voice is beautiful. Sexy. Almost harsh but still feminine. The vibrations in the air, however, rattle my brain to the point of combustion. “Not...so loud. My head may actually combust.”
Macy laughs under her breath and comes over to sit beside me on the bed. I peek over at her from between my fingers, and she’s grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Think this is amusing, do you?”
She whispers softly. “I do. I find your predicament quite comical, considering that you knowingly did this to yourself.”
“This is your fault. You left me no choice.”
Her eyes widen, and dark brows shoot to her hairline. “My fault? How did I leave you no choice?”
I scrub my face with both hands, attempting to wipe away this stage five clinger of a hangover before speaking again. “You refused to acknowledge that I’m your soulmate. Desperate times. Desperate measures. All that shit.”
She’s quiet, but her laughter shakes the mattress beneath us. “What’s the last thing you remember from last night?”
I sift through the blur of memories I’ve been piecing together from the previous night and it’s far worse than I imagined.
I remember...Ugh, I remember riding bitch.
I rode bitch the whole way here and I didn’t even have a helmet to hide my face.
My face drops into my hands. “I remember riding bitch...the whole way here...without a helmet.”
She laughs louder at my admission, and my skull rattles. “Yeah. You were upset about that last night, too. So, you don’t remember being carried up the stairs?”
I whip my head in her direction. It would’ve taken at least two men to carry me upstairs. What men were here? If it’s that pansy ex of hers from the bar, he has run out of pardons. I’ll be kicking his ass. “Who the fuck carried me?”
Macy looks at me like I’ve offended her. “I did”, she says, exasperated.
I laugh, and my head throbs. “Damn it, Macy! Don’t make me laugh. There’s a rock band in my head, and they suck.”
She must decide to overlook my disbelief that she’s physically capable of carrying me anywhere, much less up a flight of stairs, because she changes the subject. “I told you last night that there was something I needed to tell you today. I wasn’t sure if you would remember.”
She looks at me, assessing my expression for I’m not sure what. I say nothing, and give her space to continue. “I work in a bar. I’m surrounded by drunk men constantly, and I’m a young, single female.”
She had better get to the damn point soon, because I’m becoming increasingly more agitated as she speaks. I don’t like that she’s surrounded by men, and I like even less that they’re drinking.
“Anyway, I have to do certain things to protect myself. One of those things is never giving out my phone number. I never tell anyone what part of town I live in, or which places I frequent. I don’t walk to my bike alone, and-” She cuts off.
There’s obviously more, and she clearly doesn’t want to tell me what else she does to protect herself.
She’s fidgeting nervously with the hem of her skirt.
“My brain hurts. My actual brain hurts. I need you to just spit it out.”
She nods silently before speaking again. “It’s...well it’s just that.” She makes eye contact with me and pinches her lips tightly together before speaking again. “I...lie about my name.”
I process this new information. She lies about her name.
She lied to me about her name. Her name isn’t Macy.
Ouch. That stings. She knows my first and last name and that I’m a soldier.
The latter is something that I rarely share with people and never with people I’ve just met.
I never show my tags, but I showed her, and she hasn’t even told me her real name.
“Damn. Okay.” I take in a defeated sigh. I drugged myself to get more time with this woman who didn’t even want me to know her real name. I chuckle under my breath. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me. I’ve never pursued a woman like this. I never pursue women at all.
It wasn’t a complete waste, though. I hadn’t thought of Abe or about what happened since I first saw Macy. Since I first saw whatever her name is.
For the last time, I take in this beautiful woman. She’s wearing a fitted white top tucked into a short, flowy skirt. Fish nets. Of course, she’s wearing fish nets...and heels. Fuck. Me.
My hands slap my knees in the universal Southerner symbol for ‘I’m about to head out’, and I say, “Well, uh...you. It was a memorable night. Thank you for indulging my delusions.”
She stands as I do. “Elijah I was going to-”
I cut her off before she can placate me any further. “No hard feelings. I get it. It’s smart. You have to protect yourself. I need to go.”
She opens her mouth to speak before closing it again without saying a word.
She just nods her head in acquiescence. She looks scolded, but this situation isn’t her fault.
I’m still not myself. I’m clearly capable of convincing myself of things that aren’t present in reality. Like this girl being interested in me.
“I’ll get my keys.” She takes a step toward the door.
“No. I’m good. I think I need to move my legs, and I’m certain that my head can’t handle the bike right now. I’m going to walk.” I have now made my way to the bedroom door.
“What? No. Let me drive you. Please, Elijah, you don’t even know where you are.”
Her voice is even more pleading than her words, so I give her a smile that I don’t feel.
She’s right. I have no idea where I am, but I have cash in my pocket, so I can catch a cab or a bus if I want.
No phone, so no Uber. I really do need to walk anyway.
I haven’t been thinking clearly. Some time to myself and fresh air is what I need.
“It’s okay. I really want to walk. It helps to clear my mind. ”
She starts to speak again. No doubt to convince me to let her drive me but I speak first. “It was nice meeting you...” I pause again, realizing that I still don’t know her real name, but I also don’t want her to fill the silence with it out of pity, so I speak before she has the chance to.
“See you around.” I turn and walk out of the apartment and away from the last fourteen hours filled with reckless decisions.