“Lucas?” The girl called my name from the kitchen. What was her name? I couldn’t remember.
“Yeah?”
“Do you want cream or sugar?”
"Black is fine," I answered. I pulled on my Dolce & Gabbana t-shirt and could smell the cigarette smoke all over it. That meant my Charles Tewitt dress shirt probably also smelled like an ashtray and would need to be dropped at the dry cleaners. I saw my socks but couldn't find my shoes. I had to have them. I had to get those on before whats-her-face came back in here. Where the hell did they disappear to?
“Here you go.” She handed me a mug plain white mug. She took a sip out of a pink mug with the words This may very well be filled with wine written on it.
"That was quick," I muttered.
"Why have you dressed already?" she pushed her naked body past me making sure to rush one breast against my hand as she did so.
“I’ve got to get going.” I lied. “I’ve got a lot to do today.”
"Like what?" She crawled on top of her bed, slowly and carefully still holding her coffee cup. With her free hand, she pulled up her sheet but barely covered her naughty bits with it. She looked ridiculous in the light of day.
Sure she was pretty and built but it was Saturday morning and I had a whole mess of mess on my mind that needed to be sorted through.
“A lot of stuff I tried to forget last night. Thanks for giving me such a nice distraction. But I’ve got to go.”
“Fine.” She looked up at me with puppy dog eyes while biting her lip. “See you around.”
I knew what she was doing. She was trying to make me feel the way I was making her feel. The truth was that I really didn’t care how she felt. Hell, I couldn’t even remember her name.
“I’ll give you a call.” I lied again.
"Whatever." She snapped and loudly sipped her coffee. Her attitude was starting to make me mad. I looked at the floor.
“Where are my shoes?” I griped.
“I don’t know. Where’d you leave them?” She replied smartly.
"Look. I'm not playing some kind of game with you. Here's the deal. I'm not going to call. I'll probably never be in that club again. You and I were nothing more than a casual thing. So now that you know the truth can you tell me where my fucking shoes are so I can get the hell out of here?"
The look on her face was enough to scare sobriety into me. She whipped the sheet off her body, stood up for the bed, slipped on an oversized t-shirt and stomped past me elbowing me along the way.
I carefully followed her out of the bedroom hoping she wasn't heading toward the kitchen to retrieve a carving knife. In the little front room, she scooped up my shoes and held them in her hand.
"Thanks," I mumbled. But she wasn't picking them up to hand them to me. She walked to the front door, opened it up and stepped out into the hallway. I was sure she was just making sure I got her point. Take your shoes and get the hell out of my house. But that wasn't all she wanted me to know.
The clank-clang of a heavy metal door opening echoed down the hallway. Outside the Exit sign was the fire escape. Whats-her-name dangled my shoes over the edge.
“Wait! No!” I barked but it was too late. She dropped them down six stories into the alley. Without another word she slid past me, her elbow painfully finding my ribs again, then went back into her apartment slamming the door behind her.
Thank goodness my keys and wallet were still in my pants.
I can't blame her for being mad but she didn't have to throw my shoes away. I'd probably have to get a tetanus shot after walking in stocking feet in an alley. Besides, I wasn't the one playing games. She thought she had me fooled like I was going to get all blue-balled and frustrated because she pretended not to care if I called her. If she knew I didn't even remember her name she probably would have tossed me off the fire escape. I chuckled a little at that. But as soon as I made it downstairs I wasn't laughing. Half a dozen people were staring at me as I shuffled barefoot across the cheaply decorated lobby.
I don't know if it had rained sometime during the night or not but the sidewalk and alley were wet. Now I was pissed off.
The whole reason I even went out last night was because of my conversation with Jenna. She called yesterday leaving half a dozen messages like she always does that I needed to call back. Everything with her was important. I had to drop everything I was doing just because she called. I can tell you how many times that actually happened. Never.
Why should this time be any different?
But when my dad called and left a message demanding to know why I didn’t call Jenna back I knew something was up.
“Lucas?” Jenna asked when I answered the phone.