Page 8 of Sky Full of Stars

The knuckles are fine. Sam admonished me for working them too soon but he knows what I’m like and eventually let up. I try to relax and stop thinking about Adam. In all honesty I haven’t thought about him for a week or two. I didn’t want to admit he had entered my head at times but you can’t lie to yourself.

Opening my eyes I look at the phone. Why is he messaging me now? I don’t get it. I bite my lip, trying to talk myself into ignoring it, but I can’t. I dry my hand off on a hand towel and pull the phone over, looking at the message again. What the hell, it’s harmless.

Me: All healed, thanks

I put it down. What else is there to say? I drink more wine. Another text comes. I grab the phone quickly, sloshing the bath water. “Get a grip, Jenna,” I chastise myself.

Adam: How is Lance?

Me: I wouldn’t know

Adam: Good girl

Good girl? Seriously? I try to be a little angry but a part of me doesn’t want to be offended. I don’t know how to reply to that, so I don’t but I’m no longer setting the phone back down. I’m staring at it. The typing dots don’t appear though and I feel stupid for staring at the phone so put it down. The bathwater eventually gets cold and I’ve downed two glasses of wine. I get out and pat myself dry. I catch a look at my reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of the door.

Lance always told me how much he loved my body. Yeah, I box, I work out five times a week but I’m not overly muscular, I’m toned, I have a flat stomach with just a hint of definition in my abs. I never want that hard, visible muscle. I want to remain feminine despite being fit and the way I choose to do it. I’ve always had decent breasts, gotten more than my share of compliments on them and my legs too. So why did he go with that skank? I shake my head grabbing my robe and going to my bedroom to change into shorts and a camisole. It’s not too late so I grab the current book I’m reading and head to my cosy reading nook. I lean back on the eclectic pile of cushions and wrap a blanket around my knees, opening the book. I’ve always preferred a paper or hard back book to an e-reader. I love the smell of the pages not the hard screen of a tablet.

I’m well into it when I get another text. I need to get up to reach my phone and hesitate. I don’t want to be too eager if it’s him. But I bookmark my page and get up. Standing in the middle of my living room I smile when I see his name.

Adam: What are you doing tonight?

Oh God, is he going to ask me out? I’m not sure I’m ready for that. And what is he going to think when I say I’m in my pj’s reading a book. But what difference does it make what I’m doing? I work hard, I deserve this down time.

Adam: I’m in a hotel room in LA contemplating the meaning of life

Me: You’re in LA?

Adam: Yeah, with work, here for a few days

Okay good, he’s not going to ask me out. Or is that good? Stop it, Jenna! I glance at my watch, it’s almost ten PM, LA is three hours earlier than the East coast, so it’s early in the evening there.

Me: How is the contemplating going?

Adam: My brain is refusing to play ball

Me: Maybe you should go to sleep

Adam: Is that your way of telling me you don’t want to talk?

Me: No…I have time to talk

I bite my nail. What am I doing? I go back to the reading nook, wrap the blanket around me and look through the window. I see people in the apartment building next door. Some hazy from behind blinds and curtains, some sitting watching TV, there is a kid playing a video game, moving wildly so his chair wheels back and forth.

Adam: So why boxing?

Me: No particular reason. A friend of a friend got me into it

Adam: Do you actually fight?

Me: No, I just like punching the crap out of a bag, I couldn’t fight a person

Adam: Except Lance

Me: Yeah, but he deserved it

Adam: How long did you date?

Me: Five months or thereabout

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