She hated him. He hated her. And that was alright in their world until one night. Everything changed then, conversations exchanged between drags of a shared cigarette having developed a mutual respect between enemies.
-----
Slowburn enemies to frie...
Dustin went to Mike's house to play Dungeons and Dragons with the boys. Claudia has to work late in the office tonight.
That leaves Mews and me completely alone on this gloomy November night. It's lonely here, and I begin to regret not accepting Dustin's DnD invitation.
Claudia always requires us to be home before the street lights come on. Unless I'm working, then I get more leeway on when I can be home by. Dustin should be on his way home soon.
I pull the curtains back and look out the living room window, scanning the street for Dustin. The sun slips behind the hills, and the moon begins to creep out of her hiding place. I grow anxious while waiting for Dustin to come home. What if he gets hurt out there by himself? What if some creeper comes by and snatches Dustin or one of the other boys? What if--
I take a deep breath and count to ten, then back down to one backward. My fingertips burn, and my face feels hot. Get it together, I tell myself. We're not fucking things up this time.
Even with its quirks, Hawkins feels like home. It's almost as if it's just so weird that I feel like I fit in. I don't want to leave, even if I hated it here just days ago.
I decide to preoccupy my mind by cuddling Mews in my bedroom and reading a book. I scoop the cat up from the couch and into my arms, carrying him off to my room across the hall from Dustin's. I take in the radiant joy I receive from my room as I enter it. Claudia had thought of everything before I arrived:
A canopy bed with white curtains--very helpful in keeping out the summertime mosquitos--and a light green comforter. It's the nicest bed I've had in my entire life.
A dresser and closet with way more space than I'd ever know what to do with.
A bookshelf, whose first shelf is barely half full with books I brought with me.
A vanity I don't imagine I'll ever fill.
And finally, an ottoman at the foot of my bed. A.K.A; Mew's favorite sleeping spot. I hide things in the ottoman that I don't want anyone but me to touch. Things from my past, what little I remember of it.
It's all a blur these days. Psychologists say it's a way of coping. I'm unsure of how much I believe that. It feels less like I've forgotten and more like it's been taken from me.
I plop Mews on the Ottoman and reach for a book from my shelf. The Queen's Gambit, by Walter Tevis. I've read the book a million times by now in just a year I've had it, but I can't help but read it over and over again. I've got every word memorized. It was the first book I ever got with my own money, and though it's beaten to crap, it's my prized possession.
