67. Lapse in Judgement

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I woke up before my alarm which is the worst, especially when you've not had enough sleep. There was simply too much on my mind. The frog dream, Florence coming home drunk last night, and don't get me started on my trip to Portugal which I still have to hash out. It bothered me that I wasn't getting anywhere so I decided to wake up out of frustration.

Even though my windows were closed, the cool, morning air that managed to seep in overnight caused me to shiver. It was a huge contrast to my warm, toasty bed. I like to sleep in just my underwear even though it's winter. I always run hot in the middle of the night and feel suffocated by my clothes. When I was younger, my mum would put me in my pajamas and find that I'd taken off my clothes in the morning. After several tries to get me to keep my clothes on, she said it's fine as long as I have my underwear on for the sake of others (aka my mum). My dad could care less. I grabbed my pack of cigarettes and lighter and opened the door, making my way to the balcony for my morning cigarette.

"Good morning."

I turned sharply towards Florence and dropped my cigarettes and lighter in fright, not expecting her to be home. She's usually on her way to work by now.

"Christ, I didn't see you!" I shouted, scrambling to pick up the items I dropped. "A-Aren't you supposed to be on your way to work?" Sometime in the middle of the night, Florence changed into a light pink slip. Both her straps had fallen and I wondered how her dress was still on.

"Yeah, on any regular day I would but I can't go to work hungover so I called out sick. I was gonna tell you but didn't want to wake you. But now that you're awake, there you have it."

She was watching me. You could see she was still tired and disheveled from last night. Her eyes slowly went down my body and then she blushed, looking away. I was suddenly reminded I was just in my underwear and felt very exposed, especially now that I know how she feels about me.

"I—er—will put on more clothes. I thought it was just me, sorry about that."

I quickly went back to my room and closed the door, my heart beating rapidly from the awkward encounter. We never really talked about the kiss and I don't know what to do to fix things between the both of us. The only solution I could see was her finding a place and moving out but that's going to take some time. We'll have to face each other eventually. I dug around for a T shirt and joggers and put them on. My plan was to have my morning cigarette before getting ready but that went out the door because I just wanted to get out so I went straight to the bathroom without so much as a look in her direction.

If this was how the next few days or weeks were going to be, I was glad I was going to be gone for some of it. But I hated how I was avoiding the problem. It's unlike me to run away from things as I'm an upfront person but I don't know how to deal with things involving feelings.

I was off to a slow start this morning and knew I had to hurry or else I'd miss my usual bus. Luckily my bus comes every fifteen minutes in the morning and Bondy and Larry could care less what time I come in but I just wanted to leave.

Eventually, I got back into my normal routine of using the toilet, brushing my teeth, washing my face, and shaving the stubble that had grown. I stepped out of the bathroom and dipped into my room to change and came back out to put water in the kettle. Even though my back was to her, I could feel her eyes burning into the back of my head so I busied myself by placing two slices of bread in the toaster. It seemed like it was taking forever for the toaster to pop up and for the water to boil so I decided to ask how she was doing to be polite and to try to be normal.

"How're you feeling?" I asked. Florence looked up, surprised that I didn't ignore her.

"I'm okay. The hangover wasn't as bad as I thought. I guess I didn't drink that much," she answered. It seemed like she was done sleeping so she got out, fixing the straps of her dress. She began folding her blanket.

REM // Van McCannWhere stories live. Discover now