Day Two, 4:07 a.m.
I lay there for a second, not really sure what I’m supposed to do. I mean, Jordan is in the same bed with me. Wrapped around me. A part of me wants to scream, to push him off, to flip out, and possibly kick him in the balls. But it feels good. To be close to him. And I realize that I’m probably never going to be this close to him again. Ever. So maybe I should just give into it for a little while, hold on to this last thing.
I can feel his chest moving next to me, up and down with his breathing, and his arms feel strong around me. My stomach grumbles, probably because it’s empty. What a pain in the ass. I know I can’t eat anything, because if I do, I’m going to end up sick again.
I push Jordan’s hand off my shoulder. It bumps my head. Great. Why is he in this bed with me? Is it possible I got into some kind of weird delusional state because of my apparent food poisoning and then grabbed him and pulled him into bed with me? Maybe it was a fugue. We learned about those in psych class. I’m horrified.
I push his arm up and over my head, trying not to wake him up. The last thing I want is for him to be aware of the fact that we’re in this position. Maybe it happened naturally. Like in movies, when guys and girls are always falling asleep and not realizing they’re getting wrapped around each other. Maybe it’s our bodies’ way of telling us we were meant to be. Or maybe I, like, cuddle raped him or something.
I need to get out of this bed. Out of this hotel. Out of this trip. It’s definitely not good for my mental state. I grab my phone off the nightstand by the bed, extract myself quickly from the tangle that is Jordan, and head to the bathroom. I check my missed calls. Four of them. They’re all Lloyd. Lovely.
I wonder if four in the morning is too late/early to call him. Actually, it could be the perfect time, because there’s no way he’s going to be awake. So I can leave him a quick message, a “Thanks for calling me, but I was sick and sleeping,” kind of message, so that I won’t actually have to talk to him. I’m so brilliant.
I push the button in my phone book next to his name and listen while it rings. Ring…Ring…
“Hello?” he says, sounding tired.
Great. What kind of fool answers their phone at four in the morning? On the day they get to school, nonetheless! Doesn’t he have orientation? Whatever. This is so ridiculous. I mean, I hooked up with him, it’s not the end of the world. People hook up all the time. And then you just deal with it. You talk about it. You work it out. This is Lloyd. He’s my friend. He’s not psychotic. He’s Lloyd. I take a deep breath.
“Oh, hi,” I say.
“I miss you.”
“Oh.” It’s the only thing I can think of to say. I don’t have to say it back, right? I mean, it’s not like when someone says “I love you,” and you’re kind of obligated to say it back, even if you don’t mean it. And I do miss him. Kind of. Although I don’t really know how you can miss someone you just saw one night ago. I mean, normally, we don’t see each other every day. So it’s kind of weird for him to say he’s missing me, since even though we’re both going to be away at school, nothing’s really changed yet.
“What time is it?” I hear the sound of him moving around in his bed.
“Um, four in the morning,” I say.
“I’m so glad you called me back,” he says. “I was worried about you.”
“Yeah,” I say. Silence. “So, listen, I can’t really talk for that long, because I’m in the bathroom and I don’t want to wake Jordan up.”
“Why would you wake Jordan up?” he asks, sounding confused.
“Because he might hear me talking, and then he would wake up. And having to deal with him while he’s awake during normal hours is enough of a trial for me.” I’m assuming Lloyd will like the fact that I’m saying something bad about Jordan, but my statement has the opposite effect. Lloyd flips out.
“You guys are staying in the same room?” he asks. Suddenly he sounds wide awake, and there’s more noise on the other end of the line, like he’s sitting up and taking notice. Suddenly, I feel like I’m in some really weird episode of The Twilight Zone, where Lloyd wants me and I don’t want him, Jordan broke up with me, I’m in bad hotel room lighting, and it’s four in the morning. But it’s not. It’s real life. So weird.
“Yeah, we’re staying in the same room,” I say, trying to sound breezy. “But there’s two beds, and it was only because there was only one room left.” I’m now lying to Lloyd. I’m a liar.
“There was only one room?” Lloyd asks incredulously. Apparently a very bad liar.
“Yup,” I say.
“I’m sorry, Court,” he says. “Are you okay? Having to stay in the same room with him like that?”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” I say. “I’m holding up.”
“Good.”
“Yup,” I say. “So, anyway, you sound really tired, so I should let you go. I’ll call you tomorrow, though, before we get there and let you know when—”
“Today,” Lloyd says.
“Today what?” I ask. My head is starting to hurt, and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m getting over some sort of whacked-out food poisoning thing, or if it’s because of the stress of this trip.
“You’ll be here today, technically,” Lloyd says. “Because it’s four in the morning?”
“Oh,” I say. “Right.” Silence.
“Are you sure everything’s okay?” Lloyd asks.
“Yeah,” I say. “It’s fine.”
“Is it Jordan? Has he tried anything?”
“Uh, no,” I say. “He hasn’t. Tried anything, I mean. He has a girlfriend.” I don’t mention the fact that I just woke up with Jordan’s arms wrapped around me. Because that was obviously some sort of weird mistake, something that happened while we were sleeping.
“Like that’s going to stop him.” Lloyd snorts. No, really, he snorts. The guy I made out with last night is snorting. “You guys were together when he started hooking up with his new girlfriend, so I wouldn’t put anything past him, Courtney.”
I want to point out that (allegedly) Jordan didn’t cheat on me, but really, what’s the point? Lloyd is going to believe what he believes. And whatever, he’s probably right. Jordan probably did cheat on me. I feel myself starting to get upset, and I take a deep breath.
“Okay, well, I’m going to go back to sleep,” I say to Lloyd. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow and let you know how we’re progressing.”
“Okay,” Lloyd says. “I miss you, Courtney, and I can’t wait to see you.”
“Yeah, you too,” I say, and then hang up before he can say anything else. I slide my cell phone back into my bag and creep back into the room. I climb into the other bed, the one Jordan’s not in, close my eyes, and try to fall asleep.
