Mr. Rich Boy [IN EDITING]

5

Maggie, half-awoken by the birds chirping outside her window, felt a rough tug on her covers. The cool air hit her soft legs, causing immediate goosebumps to arise on her skin. Eyes closed with a soft groan, she pulled them back harder from the grasp of Hanna's body and shifted her position in bed, snuggling comfortably into her pillow to immerse herself back into her slumber. Another swift pull on the covers fueled her rage, and she shot up in bed to give Hanna, peacefully sleeping with a fistful of her covers, an insidious glare. She was fully awake now, and when her phone told her she only had another thirty minutes until her alarm would wake her up for the day, she decided to get a head start on her morning.

She could smell the residue of marijuana on her clothing and in the air, on the tips of her fingers, the ashtray on her bedside table sporting the stubs of two smoked-out joints. She groaned when she saw it, a reminder of her night with Hanna. The two had watched a poorly rated, low budget movie the night prior and smoked the joints before to get themselves in a giggly, happy mood. They had been up until two, overcoming their "happy high" and entering into their "deep high," where they talked extensively about Hanna's emotional detachment issues and Maggie's low self-esteem after the departure of her ex-boyfriend, Andy.

Such a positive and productive way to end their night, talking about what was wrong with them.

She unplugged her phone from the charger and headed to the bathroom to begin her morning routine. After brushing her teeth and fully cleaning her body off in the shower, she brewed herself a cup of coffee and made her way outside to the fire escape.

As the sun began to peep up from the horizon, its brilliant orange hues contrasting the powder blue sky, she listened for the sounds of people beginning her day. Cars drove on by, horns honking, and the chatter of quiet, sleepy conversation could be heard from down below. A dog owner picked up their pet's excrement, the bag crinkling roughly. She smiled, at peace.

There was never a time in recent years when Maggie took a minute in the morning to take in her vast surroundings. Sometimes she'd wake and have her breakfast outside, but by that time the city was already fully awake and had been bustling for hours. It was around 6:45 now, and alarm clocks would soon be ringing in the ears of the residents around her. It was a beautiful morning, a crisp breeze blowing her hair off her shoulders and down her back. She shivered, rubbing her arms to generate heat.

"Mornin'," a drowsy Hanna stumbled out onto the fire escape, taking a seat next to Maggie.

"Good morning, sunshine," Maggie beamed, noticing the cup of coffee in Hanna's hands. "Did I wake you up?"

"Yeah," Hanna responded, waving her hand. "But it's fine. I was half awake, anyways."

"Me too, you stole my covers," Maggie agreed. She took a moment to sip her coffee. "Dude, I think I greened last night. I don't remember anything before we started talking about Andy."

"Yeah, you coulda," Hanna said, nodding. "Or your tunnel vision for Andy made you black everything else out."

Maggie chortled. She was right about that.

She won't say it out loud unless she's heavily under the influence of whatever is in her system, but she thought Andy would be the one. He was her longest relationship, but he wasn't her first. She'd always thought, growing up, that the first boy to kiss her would marry her, or the first guy she ever had sex with would last longer than three minutes, and they'd live out their lives together, or that maybe her first boyfriend would be a childhood best friend, and they'd be a will-they-or-won't-they who eventually do. But that wasn't true, and it really never is. Relationships rarely last with the people who you share a first-ever with. She found that Andy was the first guy she ever dated that wasn't a "first," which made him one anyways. Maybe that's why it didn't work out.