Not Enough

66

Saniya

It was in fact, just as, if not more painful than expected.

I hated to admit it a few hours ago and I hate to admit it now, but this guy actually has a pretty interesting taste in movies. I mean, a couple of the ones he chose were ones that I wouldn't necessarily consider good, but for the most part, he would choose thrillers and documentaries and action and horror movies that I couldn't help but start watching out of the corner of my eye.

I stayed on my phone the entire time, my pride keeping me from paying full attention as to not give Evan any sort of praise, whether verbal or not, but I'm not too sure it worked. There were a few times when I slipped up, letting my phone begin to slip out of my hand as I became more concentrated on the screen, each time feeling his eyes glued to me and when I would look back, I would see a small, yet very smug grin on his lips, which of course only pissed me off further.

Another thing I need to work on other than my borderline alcoholism, is how much I let small things get to me. I've gone to therapy a couple times, and everytime I'd ask for ways to 'fix' my anger management issues, they'd tell me that I just need to relax, to not focus so much on it. They would always tell me to go meditate or some shit, and after my fourth therapist told me that exact thing, I just stopped trying.

As I hear the end credits of the movie "Cold Pursuit" begin to play, I look at the top of my phone screen of which I'm still scrolling through different social medias and see that the time says 4:27 p.m., a wave of relief flushing over me as I mentally curse at the universe for making me sit here for so many hours.

Now that I think about it, I could've just taken the car and gone out for a drive. Fuck, why didn't I think of that sooner?

I mean, I did get a small break when I went to go eat lunch downstairs, but that was pretty much it. He didn't follow me down to the cafeteria, which I find surprising considering neither of us ate breakfast.

I place my phone down for a moment and stand up abruptly, reaching my arms up above my head and letting out a small groan as I stretch my sore muscles. Once I've finished, I look over to see Evander standing up and doing the same, reaching his arms out in front of him with a grunt before he presses the off button on the TV remote and walks over to grab his bag.

Tension is clearly still in the air, but I choose to ignore it as I slip on my shoes and grab my things, the keys to the rental car and the room both jingling in my hand. I give Evan a moment to get his shit, and after a few more minutes he finally puts his shoes on, gesturing for me to open the door.

My hand turns the knob, and once we're both out in the hallway I shut the door behind us, locking it just for common courtesy. The walk to the elevator is silent, the ride in the elevator is silent, the check-out at the front desk—which surprisingly had no one standing behind it so I left the keys on the counter—was silent, the walk to the car is silent, and it stays silent as we pack our things into the trunk, well, aside from when Evander asks me whose driving but I don't respond, instead just climbing into the driver's seat and prepping the directions to the hotel that I miraculously forgot how to drive to on my own.

Only 30 minutes—that shouldn't be too bad.

As I curse at the dumb fucks on the road who don't know how to drive, about ten minutes into the drive I can tell that Evan is beggining to get ancy in his seat, moving around more and fiddling with his hands in his lap.

"Need to take a piss or something?"

He looks over at me with an expression I can't read, before just turning his head to face out the window.