My phone rings. I don’t pick up. It rings again. I don’t pick up again. Almost instantly, two loud bangs on my door.
“Fuck off!”
“Open the fucking door, you piece of shit!”
She wasn’t angry, just annoyed I didn’t pick up her phone calls.
“What do you want Tash?”
“I heard the bike is done. I want to go for a ride.”
“You can’t ride.”
“So you ride and I’ll sit behind you then. You’ll feel better in the fresh air.”
I know she is only trying to help me out. Fuck it. I’ve been stoned in here for the past 4 days anyways listening to Dashboard Confessionals. I currently hate myself right now anyways, a ride can’t hurt.
“Shut up. I’m coming.”
We flew down Lawrence Hargrave without a thought in mind. It felt good showing the W650 through all the lines. I can feel Tash’s grip tighten around on my hoodie every time I pushed around the corners. Pretty sure she was regretting this now. But she was right and it did make me feel better. All the bullshit was gone and it felt good to have her holding me again.
She back to the house white knuckled, still trying to regroup herself and unknowingly started on the topic she knows best: fashion.
“Is that new? Your hoodie.”
“Yeah, got it the other day.”
“It’s so soft. I love it! Take it off I want to try it on.”
I took it off.
“Here. Do you want a drink?”
“Yeah, rum if you got any.”
“I got it.”
I won’t lie, as I walked to the kitchen to get the drink I wanted her to stay. We were never going to be special to each other but it was amazing feeling her so close against me again.
The bottle of Sailor Jerry’s sat in the top shelf and as I reached up to grab it I get a message. It was a photo of Tash wearing my hoodie in her Calvin sports bra.
“Because you didn’t answer my calls earlier. Thanks for the hoodie. Bye!”
That bitch just stole my Zen hoodie.