Lessons On Love

21: Love Bites Or Bruises

Chapter 21: Love Bites Or Bruises?

            The sun glared into my eyes and made me squeeze them shut when I poured out of the closet first thing Saturday morning. Marshall tumbled out right after me with my underwear on top of his head, hanging off one side more so than the other.

            I didn’t ask. I had no idea how it got there and I had no intentions of finding out. Besides, some things in life are better left unknown and I had decided the moment my eyes made contact with the undergarment on his head that this was probably one of them. I’ll just burn it or something later. No big deal.

            Marshall released a huge groan as he sat dumbly on the floor. “Sleepy,” he murmured, and stretched his neck until I was sure I heard a tiny crack from each side. My own body ached from being folded inside that cramped closet all night, but I wasn’t going to complain in front of him as he so easily was doing in front of me. “I feel like I’m eighty Camila,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes childishly. “And my tummy hurts. If being eighty feels like this, I want to go young and stay beautiful.” I scowled at him, and I wasn't sure if he felt it internally, but then he opened his eyes and blinked at me with a sheepish looking smile on his face. “Just kidding.”

            After checking the time, I made my way over and closed my bedroom door – which my dad had left opened from the night before. It was already close to nine and he would probably wake up soon for his morning coffee. I had to get Marshall out of the house before then. “Marshall?” I turned around just in time to see him tugging at the hem of my underwear on his head.

            “What is this?” He mumbled. He pulled it off the side of his head, stared at it groggily and then lifted it up into the light, stretching it out so that it was in the shape of a triangle. He laughed when he realized what it was and then turned to me, his mouth wide opened. “Isn’t this your…” Before the word came out of his mouth, Marshall must have thought of something more meaningful or indecent than the fact that it was underwear because his cheeks instantly lit up from a faint pink to a Chinese lantern red. With one hand holding the garment out to me, he bit his lower lip and turned away shyly. “Uh… Here. I think this is yours.”

            “Just keep it,” I said.

            “What?!!”

            I broke into giggles when he turned around to me with the most exaggerated expression I had ever seen in real life – the most befitting look for the king of idiots. “You should see your face,” I laughed. “I was just joking Marshall!”

            “Well you’re not very good at it,” he shouted, throwing my underwear on my bed. Instantly, I raised my hand and threatened to hit him with it.  

            “You just don’t have a good sense of humour!”

            “I wouldn’t call what you have humour,” he mumbled. “It’s more like sadism.”

            I wrinkled my nose at him briefly to show my discontent and then started pulling my top off. “My dad’s going to wake up soon so you should probably get dressed. I don’t want– ”