La Mort et ses Merveilles ✔

28. Forget Me Not

La Mort et ses Merveilles

Chapter 28: Forget Me Not

I decided to wear my dad's Hawaiian shirt that morning, the very same one I had worn when Leslie and I went on a trip together all the way to the other side of Nebraska. It was partly deliberate, partly out of necessity. I only had a few outfits that I could fit in that haversack that I had with me since we left Minnesota, and I couldn't fill it with clothes when we were moving around from place to place. I was happy with my wardrobe: dad's shirt, two sweaters, a pair of sweatpants and a pair of straight stretchy jeans. I had the stretchy jeans on today, and it went quite well with the shirt. Honestly I had been quite worried about our lack of winter clothes with the coming of the colder months, but now that we were at the convent I suppose I didn't need to think too much about that.

When I reached Leslie's room, he was still asleep. Strange, I thought to myself, wasn't he pretty enthusiastic about it? The trip was his idea in the first place. Usually I'd expected him to be ready by the time I was up, but well, maybe he overslept.

"Oh, right," was the only thing he said after waking up, when I shook his bare shoulders.

Without saying a word, he slipped up from his bed, throwing the blanket off his shirtless torso. He got undressed in front of me while I waited on the sofa, tossing off his pants leaving everything in view. Usually he'd make a lewd comment or throw me a suggestive look whenever his privates were exposed but he didn't this time. There was an obvious tension in the air.

"You brought your camera right?" he asked, finally breaking the silence as he slipped on a pair of grey trunks. "I'm sure you'll get to take some nice pretty pictures today."

"Yeah," I replied. "It's in the bag. I'm bringing about 10 shots of film so we better make this count."

"Make it count," he said, picking up a pair of jeans.

I watched as he bent down, pulling his pants up his hairy legs.

"You done checking me out yet?" he said as he flashed me a smirk.

There it was, classic Leslie. I only stuck my tongue out as my rolled as my eyes. Maybe I had been imagining the tension after all. Maybe he was just tired, maybe he's already forgotten what I've said yesterday. Whatever it was, it was gone. I was probably just too self-absorbed.

He finally covered his bare torso with a rather thin grey T-shirt that made his arms look big. Turning to look at me, I could feel his eyes scanning me up and down. Finally, he took something from his shelf and tossed it at me.

I caught it just before it hit my face. Looking down, I found myself holding onto a rather clumped up denim jacket.

"What's this for?" I asked.

"You know," he said. "It's getting colder and you look like you'd need it."

"Thanks," I muttered as I slipped it on, the heavy jacket resting on my shoulders. "Smells like you."

The young man chuckled as he picked up his backpack slumped on the floor.

"I'm going to get breakfast," he told me. "You wait by the truck -and make sure Clara doesn't see you!"