Page 38 of After All This Time

“It’s the courteous thing to do considering you don’t live here.”

“I actually do.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Your mom wants me to stay here. With you.”

“And why does she think having you stay here with me is a good idea?”

“Beats the shit out of me.”

She whips her head back. “You have to stay in the guest bedroom.”

“That’s so sweet of you to offer me an actual room to sleep in. And here I thought you’d have me sleep on the roof.”

“Oh, fuck off.” She rolls her eyes. “You might end up sleeping on the roof if you annoy the shit out of me.”

I look down, seeing she’s holding a flashlight. “A flashlight. What were you going to do with that? Blind the shit out of me?”

“Now that I think about it, it would’ve been better if I used it to murder you with.”

“You really think that could be an effective murder weapon?”

She gestures to me step closer to her. “Why don’t we find out?” She flips me off after I wet my lips with my tongue.

This is when it hits me.

Dani is standing here in nothing but a tank top and underwear.

Fuck me.

I’m having heart palpitations which are traveling all the way down to my shorts.

I clear my throat so loud it startles her, my hand spazzing out as I point to her. “Shorts.”

“What?” The anger on her face dissipates and transforms into confusion.

“Y-you’re…not wearing any s-shorts,” I stutter.

Chills travel through my entire body. My shoulders feel tight. I roll them in a backward motion a few times.

She looks down, noticing she’s only wearing underwear. “Oh…shit.”

She’s unable to meet my eyes, her cheeks all flushed. Grabbing her jean shorts, she runs into the bathroom and slams the door behind her.

I see Archie, her ginger tabby, sprawled out on his back. Our shouting and bickering startled him, but not to the point where he wanted to leave the room.

I go over to pet his soft fur, a whimper escaping his mouth. He’s too lazy to give me a full meow.

Standing in Dani’s childhood bedroom is a mind trip.

Her walls are still teal like they were five years ago.

There are Polaroid posters of albums that cover the wall next to her closet, going six down and ten across. Those weren’t there the last time I was here.

Walking over to them, my eyes land on The Dark Side of the Moon by Pink Floyd. I gulp deeply, feeling a rather large lump go down my throat. My eyes wander over the posters for Currents by Tame Impala, Night Visions by Imagine Dragons, and Pure Heroine by Lorde.

Her book collection has grown massively. My feet drag themselves over to her bookcase.

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