Damage

Chapter 7

I’ve always loved waking up in someplace I don’t know. There’s an almost magical feeling to waking up on an airplane or on a couch in the middle of the night. That momentary feeling of confusion and adventure and maybe, even fear, it gets me every time.

But I never imagined that on my first time waking up in New York, I’d be in the bed of a boy who I’d never really even talked to. The bed of a boy named Luke with broad shoulders and blue eyes that could make sinners out of saints.

When I wake up, I’m covered underneath a white sheet (Egyptian cotton, 1500 thread count) and still in my white dress from the night before.  There’s no alarm that makes me open my eyes, only the sunlight that pours in through the large ceiling-to-floor window. 

My hair is spread out in a fan of sorts against the pillow, probably knotted, and I try and comb through it with my fingers but there’s no use.  Slowly, I rise from the bed and feel my bare feet hit the soft carpet before padding quietly over to the balcony. When I turn my head, I can see the adjacent balcony where I met Calum last night and suddenly it all comes rushing back.

The memory hits me like a fast, painful headache, causing me to have to grip onto the railing of this balcony.  Fortunately, I don’t have any classes today, but that doesn’t change the fact that I have no idea where any of the people I came with are.

The sky is hazy and bleak and I can see the clouds are and grey and heavy, looming above Upper Manhattan. It’s about to rain. But I don’t mind.

Waking up in the bedroom of a boy I barely know is a new experience for me. And somehow, standing outside with the weather looking like this brings on a sense of familiarity. If I can close my eyes, I’m seven years old again and nothing is wrong.

It was late July, about a month after my seventh birthday.

The weather was blistering hot but if you looked closely, my father said, you could tell that it was about to rain. And before I knew it, just like he said, the first drop was falling from the sky. My father was standing in the doorway, a cigarette between his fingers when one drop quickly turned into two and then the whole sky opened up, pouring down like nothing I'd ever seen before.

I was on the swings that he had set up in our small piece of backyard and even though I could hear my mother calling for me to come inside, it didn’t matter to me. The hot summer heat made everyone wild and restless and the rain was the perfect place for a wide-eyed girl to lose herself, laying in the grass and closing her eyes, enjoying every last drop.  

I couldn’t stop laughing while the downpour was coming and neither could my father. If I could, I’d do anything to go back to that memory.

I love the way the weather this morning, reminds me of it. The calm before the storm makes me feel like I’m seven years old and alive. But this time, when the first drop of rain falls, I don’t stay out. I wipe the water off my face and close the balcony window and go back inside.

 Something about it makes me sad.

 “Mia?” I hear Calum’s voice calling from outside and I rush to answer it, running my hands through my hair and opening the door. He’s standing outside, a dark grey shirt hanging off his body in the most perfect way and his hair tousled.

“Morning.” He says, his morning voice low and raspy. He smiles at me and I can see a maid from behind in the living room, picking up red cups and paper plates. 

“Good morning.” I respond, returning the smile and smoothing out my dress. 

“So, Luke has a meeting with his father in about an hour or so, but the campus is sort of the on way, so he’ll drop you off, alright?”

I nod my head and express my gratitude, thanking Calum for helping me last night.

 “It’s no problem,” he blows it off, running his hands through his hair and smiling. I begin to close the door, planning to take a shower but Calum holds it open momentarily.

“And by the way, I’m sorry about Blaire,” he laughs nervously. “She can be a little - " 

I shake my head, cutting him off. Last night was a bad night to begin with and I don’t mind anymore. “It’s fine.” I smile, thanking him again and brushing it off.

*** 

My mother once told me a story of Greek Mythology about Persephone and Hades.  Persephone, the innocent, virginal and naïve daughter of a goddess, was kidnapped by Hades, the dark god-king of the underworld, and forced to live in the Underworld with him. All because he had fallen in love with her.  

She nearly escaped, but was forced to stay because Hades seduced her into eating something from the Underworld when she wasn’t supposed to.  All it took was one single pomegranate seed and she was trapped. 

And now, for some reason, as I stand in this luxurious shower, I can smell pomegranate in the body wash Luke has and am reminded of the same story.

When I get out and dry my hair off with a towel, I can understand why he would have women’s body wash and suddenly want to scrub my body off again. Someone like Luke probably has different girls stay in his room all the time, so it would make sense that he’d have toiletries for them to use. 

But when I walk over to his bedside, I’m surprised to see a copy of The Sun Also Rises, bent over with notes scribbled on the pages. I flip through it for a second, suddenly feeling a little guilty, like I’m intruding on a part of Luke that he doesn’t show to many people. But that’s not the only book of the Lost Generation that I see. On the wall is one of the largest bookcases I’ve ever seen, completely covering one wall and filled with different novels and poetry compilations.

I trail my fingers along the covers but I’m interrupted from my trance by a harsh knocking on the door.

“Are you almost ready?” I hear an irritated and sullen voice call out, with the hints of an accent on the edges. “I’m leaving in 10 minutes and it was Calum’s idea, not mine, to take you.”

 I sigh, quickly pulling on my white dress and figuring that I’ll deal with my wet hair when I get back to my dorm.

 “I’m coming!” I shout back, hurriedly putting the book back by the bed and pulling the covers of the bed over. I know that he’s wealthy enough to have a maid, but that doesn’t mean I should give her more work to do. The cleanup of a party isn’t easy, especially when the son of a billionaire is throwing it.

 When we walk through the living room, I can see a few people draped along the couch, completely passed out. I pass by the couch where the large baggie of pills are still resting and feel goose bumps rise up and down my spine, not wanting to remember a lot of what I saw last night. 

“Have a nice day, Mr. Hemmings,” the maid calls out, swiftly wiping off the remnants of white lines on the coffeetable. She doesn’t say anything to me, just looks at me with a sad look on her face, almost like she’s sorry for me. Like she knows something that I don’t, and wishes she could tell me. 

“Come on, let’s go.” Luke says, brushing his hand along my arm and leading me out the door.

***

updates are every other day at 5 PM EST, so the next update will be on thursday!

tumblr - iwriteabout5sos.tumblr.com