Page 24 of David's Chase

I’m trying to look classy and be invisible at the same time.

It’s normal to be dressed up––we’re attending a small gathering at Thea’s place––and I don’t want to look like I just fell out of bed, which is pretty much what happened an hour or so ago, but I also don’t want anyone’s attention on me.

I wear white pants, a white shirt, a light brown sweater, and matching boots.

My mother likes how I look.

I’m also unusually quiet and have a small backpack draped over my shoulder. It’s one of the more fashionable pieces in my wardrobe, not one of the oversized backpacks I wear every time I drag myself to school, work, or gym.

I’m rested and tired at the same time, and I don’t feel like talking, my body and my heart at odds.

I had a few good hours of sleep after David left, yet I woke up with a hole in my chest.

I can’t believe that only a few hours ago, I couldn’t get enough of having sex with him in my bedroom, and that we almost broke the bed at the motel last night, fucking like crazy.

He took all that energy away with him––the storm swirling inside me.

He just grabbed it, tucked it away, and left.

And he was in a rush today when we finished.

I watched him fix his pants, fasten his belt, button up his shirt, shrug his jacket on, and run his fingers through his hair.

He had a blazing smile on his lips that read like satisfaction and, above all, pleasure.

That made everything that followed hard.

I was still sprawled on the bed when he kissed me goodbye and murmured he’d let himself out.

I gave him the spare key.

Yes, I did.

I was so beautifully tired, still basking in the afterglow, and he was so concerned that I wouldn’t lock the door behind him that he wanted to make sure the back entrance and front door would be both secured.

He locked the doors as if he were leaving his own house, and then I fell asleep.

It was a good sleep.

What wasn’t good was waking up to an empty house.

I thought it was bad that he had made me feel that way––like I was missing him––but I couldn’t make myself think about it seriously.

I made peace with it, pushed out of the bed, and got ready. That’s why I’m rested and tired at the same time.

As much as I would’ve loved to use my new car––and let’s be honest, brag about it just a little––I took the bus here.

“I look all right,” I mumble like I’m still sleeping and garner a curious look from my mother.

“You’re in no mood to go, huh?”

“No, no. I am. It’s just that these past days have been way too busy for me.”

“Tell me about that,” she says, flashing a smile.

I wonder what my mother would say if she knew David Moore had given me a car.

She’d probably want to know why he did it, and things would get dicey.

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