Fire

Breakfast Conversation

The next morning I rolled out of bed, confused and a little dazed. Wondering where I was. It came back to me abruptly, as startling and sudden as a slap in the face. I sat on the edge of the bed for a few minutes, fingering the cotton t-shirt I was wearing, trying to harden my resolve to even leave the room. What if I bumped into someone walking down the hall?

Finally I stood and grabbed my jeans from the floor, struggling into them. I paused with one hand on the doorknob for a moment, trying to work up the nerve to open it and walk out into the hall. I’ll be fast, I tell myself, no one will be in the hallway.

Maybe Trent would be in the hallway. Would that be so bad?

When I glance back over my shoulder at the mirror on the wall I rethink the question. Yes, him seeing me this early in the morning would definitely be a bad thing. The door squeaked slightly and I peered out into the hallway. Empty. Thank god.

I darted down the hallway in the direction that Trent had indicated the bathroom lay, sliding onto the green linoleum on my socks and slamming the door shut behind me. The bathroom was long and narrow, with an old-fashioned claw foot tub on the far side. A circular brass bar was suspended from the roof, which held a dark green shower curtain. The shower head was the rainfall type, bolted to the ceiling above the bath. I locked the door and glanced around, spotting the towel cupboard on the other side of the bathroom. The door creaked slightly when I opened it, revealing a number of fluffy blue towels in neatly folded piles. I grabbed one off the top shelf and placed it on the counter beside the sink, climbing carefully into the tub and turning the hot and cold water, waiting until it reached the perfect temperature to duck under the wide stream. There were two bottles on the little silver rack on the wall, with green and white liquid soap stuff inside.

Thank god for shampoo and conditioner. I was pretty sure I was dirty and sweaty from yesterday,  not only that but I was definitely sporting a horrific hairdo at the moment. One side of my hair was completely flat.

I tipped my head back and let the hot water soak my hair, rubbing the shampoo in and enjoying the scent of green tea and chamomile that suddenly filled the bathroom. Finally, when the bathroom was filled with steam and my skin was rosy with the heat, I stepped out and grabbed the towel, wrapping it around myself. Glancing around the bathroom I realized with a start, that I hadn’t brought a change of clothing. I didn’t really want to get back into my dirty jeans, so I gathered my clothing under one arm and opened the bathroom door a crack, peering out into the hallway. Still empty.

I pulled the towel more tightly around me and made a break for it, feet damp on the hall carpet. Relief flooded me when my hand touched the doorknob of my bedroom. Home free without a hitch!

When I glanced once back down the hallway my arm froze in the midst of pushing the door open. Trent was standing at the top of the stairs, his long blonde hair was wet, hanging in rope-like strands around his face, and he had a tight black t-shirt and jeans on. He was staring at me, dark eyes wide, mouth hanging slack.

“Hey!” I squeaked, “stop staring!”

“I didn’t…I don’t…” he looked flustered, finally turning away with his hands over his eyes, “sorry! Sorry!”

I threw myself into the bedroom and slammed the door behind me, putting my back to it with a groan. My reflection in the mirror told me exactly how bright red my face had was. The blue towel around my middle was at least large and fluffy enough to cover most of me…but still…Trent just saw me soaking wet in a towel! Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and Trent’s voice came through the door, sounding anxious, “Jess, I’m sorry.”

My voice was slightly higher than usual, “its fine. I…it wasn’t your fault.”

True. It wasn’t his fault. I shouldn’t have made a beeline down the hall half naked in a house full of strangers.