Ecstasy, Misery

52 | father david

every whisper of every waking hour

i'm choosing my confessions

losing my religion - r.e.m. (1991)

August 23rd, 1998

"Stop fucking making out for once. It's a Sunday morning. Aren't you supposed to be working?" Briella saunters past us through the living room, heading for the kitchen for her usual bowl of Frosted Flakes.

Harry pulls me back when I lift up to apologize and I just give in, letting our lips mold back together and his hold on my ass cups even tighter through my sweats.

I giggle and pull back again, stronger this time and slip my hand over his mouth so I can call out to Briella. "Hey, so, Nessa slept upstairs last night?" I haven't seen her all morning.

Briella's quiet in the kitchen as she moves around getting her cereal and as I wait patiently, Harry pulls my face to his several times until I compromise and leave a long string of pecks all over his face, making him laugh.

Then Briella trudges back in, half asleep with her Frosted Flakes, and plops down onto the couch opposite from us. "I really wish you guys would just go back to sneaking around instead of rubbing your sickening honeymoon phase in everybody's face."

Again, I try to sit up, but again, Harry restricts me with an arm around my torso, keeping me plastered on top of him, both of us sprawled across the couch.

I twist my face toward Briella, trying to extend the bare minimum courtesy that Harry will allow. "I'm gonna assume by your attitude that things didn't go well with Nessa last night?"

Briella squints back at me and takes a loud, crunchy bite from her cereal bowl, taking her time in chewing and swallowing it down. "It went...fine." She sighs, propping her feet up on the coffee table.

I look back to Harry for some help in what to say, but he takes my attention as an opportunity to steal another kiss and Briella groans in annoyance before I hear her get up and start to leave.

"Hey, wait!" I pull away again and give Harry a serious look. "Give us a second."

He rolls his eyes, lets me go and rolls over on the couch, hiking a leg up and digging his face into the back cushion.

I hurry into the kitchen, following Briella who's now noisily taking a seat at the kitchen table.

"Hey, sorry." I say, then realize I still have a hazy smile on my face from being with Harry, which I quickly wipe off. "So what happened?"

Briella shrugs. "I mean, we lasted through the night in the same bed, so."

I nod awkwardly. "That's good."

Briella scoffs. "Look, you don't have to pretend to care about all the shit that I've got going on. I shouldn't have been so bitter with that 'honeymoon phase' comment. Enjoy it. Just, like...he's my brother. I don't wanna see that shit so early in the morning, god damn."

"Sorry, he just got back from work and we just didn't make it downstairs." I answer honestly and then realize that's a mistake when she sends me another disgusted expression. I clear my throat. "Sorry."

"Jenalyn wants to talk to you." Briella says abruptly.

And for some reason my breathing hitches like that must mean I'm in trouble. Maybe it's something about Mango's. I picked up a shift for her last week; I'd be down to do it again.

"Yeah, tell her I can take whatever shift—."

"That's not what it's about."

"Oh." I scoff, brushing it off and start to back up toward the living room again. "Okay, whatever. I'll talk to her whenever. Are we still rehearsing full day on Tuesday? I'll probably see her—."