9 Years Later...

It may have been just a one night stand for him, but it was a lifetime of memories for her.

His kiss was gentle. Like a light summer breeze, it came and then it was gone.

 

            My fingers clenched the notification, tears spilling down my face. With no car, no money, and now, no home, I was one step closer to a Homeless Shelter. All that remained in my possession were a few pictures and a watch. But what good would that do? Remind me every second, of every day, how pathetic I had become?

            Tossing the eviction notice into the trash, I rubbed the remaining snot onto my shirt and proceeded down to the main lobby, where sadly but surely, my landlord awaited me.

            “About time,” He mumbled, holding out his hand.

            “Hi, Mr. B,” I greeted him solemnly.

            “You didn’t pay your rent for 3 months. What else was I suppose to do?” He asked, almost appearing to be regretting my eviction.

            “You did the right thing.”

            “Do you need help loading your stuff into the cab?” he offered, scratching his head as if he were in an awkward position.

            “I’m good,” I replied, motioning to the simple tote that I carried.

            “You know I wish you the best.”

            “Thanks.”

            “Hopefully, you’ll get your big break soon and you’ll come back,” he played around, patting my back. Leading me to the door, I turned around to give him one last goodbye.

            “No landlord has ever been as nice as you, Mr. B,” I said, my eyes becoming wet. “I appreciate everything you have done. Really.”

            Mr. B took a tissue out of his jacket and handed it toward me.

            “I know it’s not easy but you’ll make it, kiddo. I have faith in you,” he smiled sympathetically.

            I stepped out into the cold air and walked towards the cab. I only had 5 dollars on me but luckily Mr. B’s goodbye present had been a taxi ride to anywhere I needed to go. That was the problem. I had nowhere to go.

            “Where to?” the taxi cab driver asked, not bothering to turn around. Quickly, I went through all my contacts, crossing my parents out first. I hadn’t seen them in years and truthfully, I doubted that they even cared. Next came Polly; an old friend of mine. But once again, I had casted myself out of the real world and it had been a whole two years since I had seen her, as well. I wasn’t going to appear on her doorstep and request a room.

            “Miss, I ain’t got all day,” the driver complained, revving his engine out of impatience. 

            “23 Avenue, please,” I blurted out.

            23 Avenue. That’s where he lives.

            Fifteen minutes later, I found myself in front of his house.

            With hesitation, I approached the front door and then quickly stepped back onto the sidewalk. What was I doing? Was I crazy? No, I was desperate. Only out of desperation would I have thought of coming here. But where else was I going to go? The worse he could say was no. But that no would hurt and I knew it, especially coming from him.

            I knocked nervously.

            No one answered. And so, I turned around, hopeless and homeless.

            “Can I help you?” A woman’s voice asked. I quickly turned around. The woman was beautiful. With an effervescent appearance, she gazed intently at me.

            “I’m sorry. I seem to have the wrong house—

            “Babe, who is it?” And there he was, right in front of me, his blue eyes as clear as daylight, his lips voluptuous.

            “I’m not sure,” the woman answered, unsure. “Who are you?” she directed towards me.

            “I really should be going,” I spat out, slowly descending the steps and back onto the sidewalk. “Sorry to bother you,” I called back.

            “Wait!” the woman called after me. “I’m sure you have the right house. I can see the slip of paper in your hand.” Running up to me, she smiled passionately.

            “Uh, well…” I stuttered.

            “Why don’t you come inside, have something to eat and we’ll help you with what ever your looking for.”

            I should have felt envious. This woman was living with him. She was able to see him every day.

            I hesitantly took her proposition.

            Taking my hand, she led me into the house, right past him. He stared at me blankly, as if he didn’t know who I was.  What was to be expected? I had just been one of those girls passing by, his first opportunity.

            “What’s you name?” the woman asked, handing me a napkin and some cookies.

            “My name’s—

            Yet, with him standing there, I couldn’t come to say my real name. What if he remembered me? What if he though I was pathetic for coming to him? It had only been one night.

            --Lillian,” I lied, chewing on the end of a cookie.

            “Well, I’m Carissa and this here is—

            --Ryan,” I whispered.

            --Ryan,” she said.

            “Hi,” I shyly greeted.

            “So I’m assuming you came here with a purpose,” Carissa began.

            “Uh, I thought someone else had lived here. Must of left before you came,” I lied once again, eyeing the floor.

            “I don’t think anyone lived here before us. This belonged to his father and was left in his care. If anything, you were probably looking for him, but he’s been dead for over 10 years.”

            “My father passed away last June,” Ryan said, his hand tracing over my collarbone.

           

            “I’m sorry,” was all I could say, rubbing his cheek.

            “Hey, nothing to get depressed about. I’ve gotten use to him not being around, ya’ know?”

            “I don’t think I could ever get use to my parents being gone,” I replied, sitting up, the moonlight shining down on my breasts. He gazed at me puzzlingly.

            “What?” I asked, worried I had done something wrong.

            “Nothing. It’s just that…you look amazing. I don’t think I could ever forget you.”

 

            “I knew I had the wrong house. I’m sorry to bother you,” I said, jumping up, grabbing my bag and heading towards the door. Ryan blocked my way.

            “You look like you’re about to cry,” he noted.

            “Lillian, is everything okay?” Carissa asked, grabbing my shoulder.

            “Yeah, I’m fine. I was looking for someone who I thought lived here, but obviously I’m wrong.”

            “I know this sounds rude,” Carissa said, “But from the looks of it, you seem to be in need of some pampering.”

            “What?” I asked, confused.

            “Carissa has always been good at reading people’s emotions. But from the looks of it, it isn’t very hard to tell.”

            “I just had some bathing oils imported from China. I think it’ll do you some good. Come with me.” Motioning for me to follow her, we headed upstairs. Glancing back, Ryan looked at me with an intense eye, as if he were studying me.

 

 

            “So where are you from?” Carissa asked, gently bathing my back. I held my knees close to my chest.

            “Just south of here,” I replied.

            “South of here, huh? I’m sure Ryan will be able to give you ride home.”

            Surprised, I turned around, Carissa smiling at me.

            “I knew something was up. As soon as Ryan appeared in the front door you made a mad dash. And in the kitchen…”

            “Wait! No—

            “It’s okay, hun’. He’s definitely something; nothing to be ashamed of,” she coaxed, winking.

            “That’s not it.  I don’t even know him!”

            “Sure,” She replied, laughing. “But seriously, if you need a ride home, we’ll be more than welcome to take you there.”

            “Thanks,” I replied solemnly, reality once again pushing itself into my face.

            “You don’t seem too happy,” Carissa noted, setting down the washcloth.  Handing me a towel, I got up and swiftly wrapped it around me.

            “I’m fine.”

            “Lillian, fine isn’t the same as happy.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “You can be fine and still be miserable…”

            “Ryan was right, you do have a thing for guessing people’s emotions,” I replied, annoyed.

            “I’ll let you get changed,” was all she said before she left the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

            Hopeless, I slumped onto the toilet seat, placing my throbbing head between my knees.

            All of a sudden, the door swung open and there stood Ryan.

            “Oh! I’m sorry! I didn’t realize you were in here!” He apologized frantically, closing the door behind him. Startled, I stood up and quietly made my way to the door where I pressed my ear against it. Rapid breathing could be heard from the other side.

            “Ryan?” I asked.

            “Lillian?”

            “I left my bag on the kitchen table.”

            “I’ll get it for you,” he said and then his footsteps became faint.

            Slowly, I opened the door and peered around; no one was present. Silently, I tiptoed down the hall. I wasn’t sure what had overcome me but a sudden urge to explore seemed to make itself present and so following this need, I found myself in Ryan’s room. Just like a typical guy, clothes and items were thrown around. The carpet felt soft under my feet and the bed seemed decent. I began to picture myself in that bed, or in any bed with him. Of course, I knew what it was like. He would wrap his firm arms around me, press his body against mine. We would breathe together, become one. For something that sounded magical, it turned out to be the opposite.

            We had been drunk. It had been at a party. We had never met each other before and so the opportunity seemed to present itself when we had bumped into each other heading to the bathroom.

            I had never been one to drink and so, with only a belly full of liquor, I was pretty hammered. Deciding to spice things up, I leaned in to him, smelling his breathe and knowing full well, he too, was in the same state as I. It had been fun playing around. At the time, I didn’t even know his name. But none of that mattered when he led me into an unfamiliar room. No words were spoken between us; we didn’t have to. We knew what each other wanted and so, without delay we began to undress each other, feeling over areas that were foreign to us, foreign to me. At the time I didn’t know Ryan was a player.

            And so, with nothing but instinct, we slept together. I didn’t really remember it afterwards, but I did remember the conversation, something I never forgot. It wasn’t about the sex; it was about how he seemed genuinely true. Yet, the next morning I found myself alone.

 

            “Lillian?” Ryan asked surprised. I yanked my head in his direction, my foot slipping on a plastic bag. In an instant I found myself toppled onto the bed, my towel lying on the floor.

            His eyes grew wide.

            “Oh God!” he exclaimed looking away. Embarrassed, I scrambled off the bed and frenetically wrapped the towel back around me.

            “I’m so sorry!” I cried.

            “No! I shouldn’t have scared you like that,” he apologized, peeking back. Realizing the towel was back on me, he turned around. But there was something different in the way he gazed upon me. As if he recognized me…

            “Ryan,” I began.

            “You should probably get dressed,” he suggested, looking down, ashamed.

            Taking his advice, I walked past him and out into the hallway.

            “I’m really sorry,” I whispered.

 

 

           

 

            

Author's Note

This is the rough draft. Please excuse any errors. Comments would be nice ^^

Reviews

[Rick Puetter]

Dear unjust_poetry,

This looks like the start of an interesting book. The writing is quite good, but you can tell it is a rough draft. There are still things in it like: "I'm not sure," the woman answered, unsure." But that is to be expected in a first draft. Reread it a few times and most things like that will be gone. Right now I'm rating it a 90, but with polishing this could easily go above 95.

Best regards, and good luck on the book.

Rick

[SamBug]

Wow caught my attention at the first of it. It was a really great story to read. It is a little noticable about the rough draft thing. There were a couple of grammatical errors, but what would people be without mistakes. Trust me, we all make them. Don't fret about it and just keep writing because I would definately love to read the final draft of these things. Great write, I was very intrigued in the story!

[inhale]

ooooo I like it. You will be adding more? I'm dying to find out if he will recognize her or not.