Page 30 of Here In Your Arms

“See you soon precious.”

She nods and smiles, walking around her car to get in the driver’s seat and pulling out of the parking lot. Grinning, I turn to walk over to my car, but pause as I notice someone standing near their car, facing my direction. Looking closer, I realize it’s Baldie.

What the fuck?

He stares at me until I turn and get in my truck. For some reason I feel like I just lost a dominance battle, then I remind myself that I’m not a dog and that’s not how this works. I wonder if he knows that.

Chapter 11

Rory

My eyes roll to the side to look at the time on my phone. It’s only ten in the morning. I close them again, not moving any other part of my body. It’s a bad day today. My body feels like dead weight, and I have no energy. On the coffee table in front of me, there’s an open wrapper with one pop tart left in it. When I feel good, I prep healthy food for days like these. Protein bites, hard-boiled eggs, mini muffins, easy carbs, easy protein. Do I eat any of it? No.

Another thing I’ve failed at, eating healthy when I’m like this. If I didn’t feel like this, I would be a better person, that’s for sure. My head is heavy as I let it turn to the side, my cheek against the headrest of the couch. I can’t remember if I took my meds today. Did I take them? Maybe. I should check. Telling my arms and legs to move, I try to get up to go to my bedroom and check my pill container. My limbs don’t respond, and I’m still sitting here with my head turned.

I need to get up. I need to check my pill bottle, and I need to try to get out of this. A tear leaks out of my eye when the thought hits me that I don’t know if I can. My limbs won’t move, my brain is slow, and there’s a heaviness pressing down on me I can’t lift. Forcing my lungs to take a deep breath of air, I hold it in for a bit, then release it slowly. Repeating the pattern two more times, I’m able to find the ability to get myself to my room at least. Promising myself I can collapse in bed since I’ve been up for a couple hours, my legs finally cooperate.

Once up, I shuffle to my bedroom and check my container on my nightstand. No pill in today’s spot. Must have taken them already. I check tomorrow’s making sure I didn’t just forget to refill the container, but I see it’s good to go. Allowing myself a reprieve, I sit on the bed, slouched and staring at the spot where the wall meets the floor, my hands setting palm down on the bed, on either side of my body. Another tear leaks out, and I close my eyes in frustration.

Fuck all this shit. Why does this have to happen? Why does my brain do this to me? Why doesn’t my body cooperate? I’m angry, but it’s dampened by the heaviness that won’t leave. My phone dings and I manage to look over at the screen and see “Whes!” on the screen. Slowly, my hand reaches for the phone, and I unlock it with face ID.

Whes!: Hey hot stuff, thinking of you today. Can’t wait to see you soon.

I sat there, staring at the message for a few minutes. I don’t know how to respond right now. Do I tell him thanks? I know I want to see him too, but not when this is happening. Not on my bad brain days. Will he be mad if I leave it? Maybe I should respond. He probably wants me to respond and be happy. I should try.

Me: Can’t wait to see you too.

Whes!: Can I call you later to make some plans? I’d love to get to know you one on one. We both would, actually.

Me: Um, sure, sounds good.

Whes!: Awesome, talk to you soon. Have a good day

That’s all I have in me; maybe more will come later. I managed to walk to the living room and back and message Wes. That’s good. Maybe I can get out of this.

Maybe this can be a little bad brain day instead of a full bad one.

With that thought giving me some strength, I put on fresh clothes, comfortable but still appropriate for going out in public. Allowing myself breaks between tasks, I manage to get my hair somewhat respectable, fill up a water bottle, and grab my purse.

Pulling into the parking lot, I feel a little tension leaving my shoulders as I look at the brick building. Time at the bookstore should help, I hope. It’s quiet but public, has a coffee shop, and they don’t mind customers hanging out. Taking another deep breath, I get out of my car and walk into the bookstore. The aroma of paper and coffee hits my nose and I take a deep breath just to inhale the scents.

The weight isn’t gone, but it’s lifted enough that I don’t need to take breaks, so I order a decaf latte and move to peruse the books. Finding some contenders, I pull them out and find a couch to sit on so I can flip through them. I’m not treating this place as a library. I won’t read the whole thing, but I like to skim and see if I like the writer’s style. Sipping my coffee, I read the backs of the books in my stack, so I have an idea of each story that’s waiting to be read.

“Hey, uh, Rory, right?” I hear a voice near me ask.

My head whips up in surprise and there’s a medium height woman standing there with long black hair and deep blue eyes. She looks so damn familiar, but I can’t place her.

“Yeah…” I trail off, hoping she’ll pick up the conversation.

“Oh, sorry, you probably don’t remember me. I’m Morgan. I was at the bar a week or two ago and we chatted a bit. Sorry if I’m being a total crazy person right now. I just saw you and wanted to say hi,” she says, starting to babble a bit by the end.

“Oh, yeah.” My memory finally kicks in. “I remember now, sorry.”

“It’s no problem!” she chirps. “I don’t want to bother you, but it just felt like I should say hi.”

“Do you want to sit?” I ask her, not sure where the question comes from.

Bad brain days usually make me extra uncomfortable around people, and I don’t talk much.

---