Careful Cunning and On (fiction)

Part 4: Careful Cunning and On

When I woke up, I was curled in dusty smelling blankets looking at a wall. The room I was in was tiny, about the size of a walk in closet. I was on the bed, a twin mattress pushed against the south wall on the floor. I had a thought- crippling headache, and I rolled over to face my black nylon bag on the knotted carpet floor next to me. I stood up slowly, peeling off my t-shirt and jeans from the night before, careful not to hit my head on the slanted low ceiling. I sprayed perfume in my hair to ward off the cigarette smell, and put some cleaner clothes on.

The door swished open, and in the doorway was the pretty boy from last night, now in a new dress, wavering in the doorway. He was beautiful, dark hair cut short, pale skin, slight blue eyes, and a cigarette hanging lazily from his lips. He was certainly a boy, in a slouchy blue cotton dress with bare feet. He didn’t look much older than me.

“ Pretty rough last night,” He half grinned, “ I’m Thomas.”

“ What happened?” It came out sounding less like a question and more of a statement.

“ You passed out on me, so I took you back here. Smoke said he knew you,” His voice betrayed the slightest of southern accents.

“ You know Smoke?” I asked.

“ Yeah, he stays here sometimes,” He looked at his toes, “ Come on, Sam made breakfast.”

I followed him numbly, my head pounding. I was too tired to say anything. Thomas lead me to a table, letting me collapse into a crappy plastic chair. Smoke pushed a glass full of thick looking red liquid at me, “ Drink this, but don’t ask what’s in it.”