"You're the only sober person in my life. It feels like you were made for me?" he says, though it came out as a question rather than a statement.
I smile and look at him. Layne is already staring at me, searching for understanding. Not knowing how...
Two months went by fast, and before Shana and I knew it, the boys were back from their tour. I laid in bed this Saturday morning, my eyes suffocated with deep lines of tears. I don't know what's wrong with me. I woke up with emptiness, and it wasn't coming from my stomach.
I hear the phone singing from the living room, and then Shana's heavy-footed self runs towards it. A few seconds later, my bedroom door squeaks open, and I shut my eyes. I sit still as some tears escape from my lower eyelids.
"Drea," I hear Shana say. I squeeze my eyes tighter. "Layne's on the phone."
Admitting to my role, I stir and slightly turn. I hear my door close after a minute of nothing. Finally. As I wipe my closed eyes, I hear movement in front of me. Snapping my eyes open, I see Shana standing beside my bed, staring me down.
"I knew your ass wasn't sleeping," she says. But then notices wetness on my cheeks, "Were you crying?"
"I just yawned," I lie. "What did Layne want?"
"Why don't you get your ass up and find out."
"He's still on the phone?"
"Yup, and it's rude to keep a hard-working man like him waiting," she says as she yanks my blanket off me. Bitch. Shana skips out of my room, leaving my door wide open.
I lay in the bed for another moment, trying to locate the energy to get up. Layne is waiting for me. I imagine him on the couch; a cordless phone pressed to his ear. Patient. So patient.
"Okay," I say to myself before getting up from bed.
Shana is nowhere in sight when I enter the living room. But our cordless phone lays lonely on the coffee table.
I cleared my throat before bringing the phone to my ear, "Layne?"
"Andrea."
"Hey." I quickly found myself smiling at his sweet voice.
"Hey, how are you doing?" Layne asks me. His question felt like the equivalent of "are you okay?" I couldn't handle the weight of it but tried to hide it from him.
I sucked everything in and stared at the ceiling, "Good...good. Wha-what about you?"
"I'm doing good. It feels so fucking good to be back home," he sighs.
"I'm happy you're back too."
"You are?"
I nodded but then realized he couldn't see me. "Yeah. I missed you," I smile, remembering how we left off.
"I missed you too...I'm sorry I didn't call you right when we got back. I've been exhausted."
"It's alright. You had a busy three months."
"True...anyways, I was hoping to cash in my second date coupon...if it's not expired yet," he adds.
