Torn

I sighed as I opened the door to the diner.  It wasn't so much that I hated the job here.  Truthfully, I was thankful to have a job.  I was just tired, and bored.  My life long dream of being a writer was going to happen one day.  I had some rough draft manuscripts that I had sent out, just waiting to be discovered.

I glanced over my shoulder and gave one last wave to my boyfriend, Brett.  The only real boyfriend I ever had.  I guess I loved him.  We had been together for four years.  Ever since I was 16.  He was a nice guy.  Honest, dependable, safe.   All of which equalled boring lately.

My life was boring.  I was boring. 

When Brett and I moved from our hometown in Ohio, I guess I expected great exciting things.  We were crashing at his friend's place for now.  Brett had a job lead here, which is why we moved.  At first I was excited to be moving in with my boyfriend.  But now, I think I really was just seeking out freedom, independence, adulthood.  What I found was boredom and doubt.

Maybe part of the problem was my coworker, and now friend, Patty.  She was always telling me about her boyfriend and all their adventures.  They had sparks between them.  I knew nothing of sparks.  Brett and I never had that kind of feeling.  We were friends in school, started studying together and slipped into a relationship.  On a rainy spring night, after our senior prom, I gave him my virginity.  It was, well, nice.  Everything about his was nice. 

I was tired of nice. 

Near the end of my shift, Brett came in and sat at a back booth.  He did not like me working the late shift, but it was all part of my glamorous job.  I waved at him, then finished sweeping the floors.   When I went to the back to put the broom up, my boss told me I could head out.  I clocked out, collected my tips and went to find Brett.

On the drive to the apartment, Brett told me that his friend, whose place we were crashing at, was going to be coming home in a few days.  They were old friends, had been for years.  His buddy was in some band, and had been out of town playing some shows.  Guess they were trying to be discovered.   I wasn't good with people, being awkward and shy, so living with his friend made me nervous.  I had never even met the guy.

The next few days were the same as every other day.  Boring.  I was starting to really have doubts about having moved here.  I could be a writer from my hometown just as easy as I could be one here.  Or maybe I could move to New York.  Maybe I just needed to set Brett free.  I felt like I was only going through the motions with him lately.  He was a really nice guy.   Attractive, too.  Tall, dark blond hair, bright blue eyes.  He deserved a girl who was devoted to him totally.  

Saturday morning found me sitting on the bed in the room Brett and I shared.  I had just gotten out of the shower, and was wrapped in my robe, brushing out my hair.  I thought back over the time Brett and I had just spent.  His kisses were never exciting, never made me feel fluttery inside.  Making love was nothing special either.  It made me sad to think that.  Brett kept talking about marriage and a family, and I could not see me spending the rest of my life with him. 

I decided to not spend my day off being brooding and moody.  Brett was in the shower, so I headed out to the kitchen to make some coffee.  I had not been out of the bedroom yet, and I instantly felt that something was different.  The air in the place seemed to be charged with electricity.  Weird.

While I waited for the coffee to brew, I sat down at the table.  I then saw a suitcase sitting just inside the front door.  Brett's friend must have gotten home after I went to bed last night, or early this morning.  In an effort to be a good girlfriend, I made Brett a cup of coffee and took it to our room.  The door to the other bedroom, which was across the hall from ours, was closed.  As I stopped to open the door to my room, I heard music drifting out from the other bedroom.  Beautiful music, from a guitar.  I listened for a couple of minutes.  If that was Brett's friend playing, then he had some serious talent.

I sat the cup of coffee on the dresser, then turned to leave the room.  Just as I stepped into the hallway, the door across the hall jerked open. 

He was too beautiful to be real.  Wearing only a tiny pair of gray shorts, I got an eyeful of his bronze colored skin.  He had the craziest, most out of control curly black hair I had ever seen.  I could barely see his eyes under all that hair.  He smiled a sleepy smile at me.  I tried to smile back, but I think it probably looked more like a smirk.   He rubbed his eyes as he turned and headed to the kitchen.  I stood there, my mouth hanging open looking like a fish out of water gulping for air.  My stomach was doing flips, my hands were sweaty, my heart was racing and I felt an unfamiliar heat between my legs.   This man was sex on legs.  He was my boyfriend's buddy.  And I wanted him.