Page 27 of Unbreakable

Knox

Idon’tunderstand,what’s wrong with her? I stand there, watching as she pulls out of the parking lot. Her acting that way towards Christopher I can understand, but me? When her taillights are no longer visible, I turn around and head up the stairs to my apartment.

Walking through the door I drop my backpack on the floor and place my keys in the basket I keep on the table.

“What was her fucking deal?” Christopher calls out to me from where he’s lounging on the couch with a bag of chips in his lap and the remote in his hand, acting as if this is his home and not mine.

“I don’t know. She was pissed about something though. Your fucking ass left me out there alone to face her. Did you do anything to her that I don't know about? So help me god, if you did Christopher I’m going to kick your fucking ass.” I walk over to the living room and flop down on the recliner. “And get your damn shoes off my couch man.”

“Yes mom! And I haven’t seen her other than the other night when she told me to go to the club and she’d give me a lap dance. One I might say she knew she didn’t fucking work at any longer. If anyone should be pissed at anyone it’s me at her.” he says sarcastically as he reaches down, taking his shoes off and dropping them to the floor.

“So, you fucking her or what man? You sure are awfully concerned about her being mad. You didn’t act that way when the old bag downstairs kept complaining about the loud music.” he asks, oblivious to how uncool that question is.

“Man, I told you before to quit talking about her like that. I like her man, so show her some respect.” We really need to have another conversation about how he talks about women. We’ve been friends since Junior high but it’s like he’s still stuck there, and if he stays there, I don’t know how long we’ll remain friends.

“Whatever man, I got it. So back to the girl I was talking about before. She’s in the freaking Delta Lambda Nu sorority and all those fucking girls are easy as hell. I bet she’s a damn good lay.” he goes on and I tune him out because it suddenly hits me.

She was in the stairwell getting ready to come down the stairs. She heard our conversation and depending on when she came out, she only heard part of it and if it’s the part I’m thinking, then I know what’s wrong.

She thinks I was talking about her being a stripper and us sleeping together. FUCK!

I pull my phone out of my pocket and call her, it goes straight to voicemail. I try another ten times and each one is sent straight to voicemail. She’s pissed and I hope to hell that a misunderstanding doesn’t cost what we have. I decide to change tactics and text her this time.

ME: Ari, babe, I know you’re mad at me. But you have it all wrong. It took me a minute to realize you probably heard part of a conversation between Christopher and myself. We weren't talking about you. We were going on about the girl Christopher has been talking to. His parents are devout catholics and she is an atheist, that’s what we were talking about. Please call me.

I drop my phone down in my lap, stretching my legs out in front of me as I lean my head back on the chair.

“Dude, you’re acting as if you just broke up with your girlfriend. Stop being such a pussy. What was the bitch’s problem anyway?” Christopher says as he stuffs chips in his mouth, spilling them out onto my couch and the floor.

“Dude you’re making a fucking mess. I don’t know, she wouldn’t tell me, said she had to get to work.” I tell him. Man he’s a slob, one of the reasons why we don’t hang out at his dorm ever, it’s a pigsty.

“Damn, pull the stick out your ass man. I’ll clean it up. You’re worse than my damn mother. Always harping on me, don’t I always clean the shit up?” he tells me, throwing a glare my way as if I’ve offended him.

“Yeah, if that’s what you call cleaning, it’s like you clean your room, not at all. And Christopher, call her a bitch again and I’ll kick your ass.” I tell him, with a forceful tone. He must sense I’m not joking as he quickly gets up from the couch and heads to the kitchen, returning with a broom and dustpan.

I resign myself right then, if she doesn’t respond, my ass will be waiting in her apartment when she gets off. She’s talking to me whether she likes it or not.

I’ve been working on homework, while Christopher sleeps on the couch. It’s been two hours since she left and nothing, total radio silence. I’ve been working to convince myself that she’s busy at work, and that’s why I haven’t heard from her. I would love to say it’s working, but that would be a lie.

I place my books on the table, standing up from the chair, reaching my arms above my head as I extend my back, stretching, trying to relieve the tension that’s built up in my body. Letting out a massive yawn, I head to the kitchen to get something to drink, knowing I need to stay awake so I can be up to see Ari.

I’m moving around in the kitchen, putting dishes away when I hear a shout come from the living room. “Do you have to make so much fucking noise? I’m trying to sleep!”

“Then go home!” I shout back, this time making sure to slam some cabinet doors as well.

“Fine, I am. I hope your girl fucks you so you get out of your pissy mood.” Christopher hollers back at me, as I hear him moving about, grumbling under his breath, while I have a little internal laugh at his theatrics.

I pull out some leftover pasta and pop it into the microwave, while I make a glass of ice tea. Hearing the microwave ding I take out the bowl, pick up my drink and head out to the living room where I see him tying his shoes.

“Going home alone?” I ask him, feigning interest in his life for the moment.

“Hell no man, got me a booty call, and you’re too fucking loud for a guy to take a nap around here.” he answers grumpily, never once looking up at me. Standing, he grabs the strap of his book bag from the floor and heads for the door.

I wait until he opens it and then call out in a sing-song voice, “Make sure you wrap it up, so you don’t knock her up. For the love of all things clean go to her place and not yours.” I add at the end, rubbing in the fact that he’s a slob.

I hear a stern, “Fuck you!” followed by laughter as the door opens and closes behind him, and from the audible click I know he used his key to lock the door.

I let out a sigh of contentment at the overwhelming quiet present in the apartment. Now, I just have this unrelenting compulsion to get up and clean the mess he left.

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