Chapter Twenty-Three – The Morning After
Wednesday, April 11th
I awaken with the rising sun in my eyes, trying to squint away from it, when I notice that my entire body, apart from my head, is sore. I move further into my pillow as I try to remember why I’m lying uncomfortably on the hard ground. It’s then that the memories from last night hit me, my ‘pillow’ moves from under me and I hear a groan. I quickly sit up, realizing that I’ve been using Charlie’s arm as a pillow. I must have somehow in the night cuddled up next to him and slept on him. How embarrassing. Did I snore? Did I drool?
They’re questions that never make it to my lips when I look up at my bed. While I can’t see Drew on there from this angle, I know that his lifeless body will be there, or at least, there’ll be a pile of ashes on my bed if what the others have been saying is true.
I know I can’t put it off forever and my back is aching to be stretched out, so I stand up slowly and glance atop my bed. It’s full of ashes. There isn’t as much as I would expect, but then again, I don’t know exactly what I’d expected to see. My eyes catch movement in the corner and I look down, watching Charlie stretch and groan when he tries to move his neck and back. I can sympathize. I look back at my bed and then sense Charlie stand next to me as we both take in the same scene. Charlie moves his hand through his hair, bringing it backward and forward as I try to think of what we’re supposed to do.
“Window?” Charlie suggests.
“That seems… disrespectful.” I don’t want to just throw Drew out the window, but then again, what am I supposed to do? I can’t exactly take him with us. And if someone finds his ashes in here, how exactly can I explain that away? I don’t need those questions being asked and Drew wouldn’t want to cause us any problems. He died to keep us from this place.
Unable to think of anything else, I nod at the window even though it’s not the way I would like to do it. I can always say some nice words; make it feel more respectful.
Charlie moves over to the window and that’s when we reach another problem. The window won’t open.
“I don’t think this is supposed to open.” Charlie examines the edges and I feel a panic begin to build up inside me. “We could break it, but they might think we’re trying to break out or something.”
I pace, moving in small circles while trying to come up with a plan that works. I push away my stress and take deep breaths trying to clear my head. If Dana were here, she would know what to do. She probably would tell me some scene from a book she loved and it would hold the answer. I would roll my eyes, but in the end, I’d be grateful that she knew what to do. Instead, I don’t have her and it’s all on me to think of something.
“Okay, we’ll just fold up the quilt and put him in the closet. We can think of something later.”
“Can you hear that?” Charlie freezes mid-stride back to my bed.
“Stan,” I gasp. We run to my bed and hastily fold up my quilt and shove it in my closet and force the door closed.
We make it back next to the bed when Stan bursts open the door.
“Good, you’re both up.” His eyes look wild and I subconsciously take a step closer to Charlie. “Just so you know, you blew the backup generator last night. Four freaking hours! Are you two kidding me?” A vein on the left side of his forehead has popped out and it looks painful. “If you keep this up, my first order of business is to work solely on how to stop you causing blackouts during sex and trust me, you don’t want a group of scientists studying that. It’ll take all the romance out of it with them all watching or maybe you kids are into that, whatever. Just give it a break.” Stan slams the door shut and I swear the walls shake from the force. Charlie and I are both frozen in shock and embarrassment.
Before we can utter a word Stan bursts back in.
“Hurry up and get ready for your tests. Blackout, you’re up second and Third Eye, you’re third. Ha, that’s funny. Third.” Stan doesn’t sound amused, though, and he again slams the door. This time, I jump. Stan is definitely a scary guy.
“Right, I better get ready.” Charlie walks over to the door and opens it.
“Thanks again for last night,” I rush to say.
“You don’t need to thank me. We both needed the… release.” Charlie winces at his choice of word, but it reminds me we’re back to being recorded.
“Right, well, it was… fun.” I try to think of the opposite of what last night had been.
“Yeah, we should do it again sometime.” Charlie leaves then before we can continue our awkward conversation any longer.
Taken By Surprise Page 46