Sometime Around Midnight

Chapter One

The nearly empty apartment echoed every breath from the eggshell walls, the only thing dampening the sound was the small brown sofa and the tv along the other side of the room. I had always thought that my first place on my own would have been more homey, but here we are. Maybe it feels too quiet because I have been used to the chaos all my life and my mind no longer knows what to do with silence. Normal people would have found the quiet peaceful, I find it lonely.

I could hear the rain drops hitting the old French doors from the balcony, the pitter patter was making it easier for me to relax as I lay with a retro, multi-colored knitted blanket between my fingers curled up on the too small couch. I sighed and sat up, shrugging the blanket over my shoulders and stumbling over to the doors, grabbing my pack of Lucky Strikes off one of the U-Haul boxes along my way out. The inner city streets were still swelling with life, even in these early morning hours. The small wooden rocking chair swayed back and forth and cradled my heavy mind, a lit cigarette between my lips.

This is my second night here, in an apartment all by myself. I am so proud of this place. It may be small, and it may not be in the greatest part of town, but it is all mine. To me, it signifies a new beginning, a much welcome fresh start. I felt my phone buzz from inside my pants pocket.

My best friend Sam's name displayed on the screen: Leaving the lounge now, I'm going to crash there if that's okay with you?

Of course, I replied to her, You know where the key is.

I absolutely adore Sam. We're total opposites, she's very happy-go-lucky and scatter brained and doesn't have a care in the world. I envy that about her. It wasn't unlike Sam to go out with her friends on a random Tuesday night, and now that I have my own place and she doesn't risk waking anyone else up, she has a free place to lay her head after a wild night. Or anytime at all for that matter, I love having her company. Sam is the kind of friend who will sit in a comfortable silence and not make me feel bad about it.

I put my cigarette out in the ashtray on the table beside my chair and stood up, shrugging the old blanket back over my shoulders with a shiver. I drug my feet along the way back to what would soon be my bedroom, and drug the box that currently housed my bed frame from along the far wall onto the floor. Hopefully 'Drunk Sam' will be willing to help me get this thing together so we have a bed to actually sleep in so we won't have to pile onto my bare mattress on the floor.

I managed to follow the bare bones instructions to get part of the headboard together and leaned against the wall I envisioned placing it when Sam came stumbling in, tossing a bag of fast food tacos in my direction. "The fun has arrived!"

Sam sat down criss crossed on the floor, jumping into helping me with my handyman project without being asked or briefed. Sam's little hands make this a much easier task for her, even slightly intoxicated. Sam was small, barely even five feet tall and as light as a feather, she looked funny with all the black metal bed pieces piled in her lap.

"How was your night?" I asked when she didn't speak.

"Oh. My. God!" Immediately Sam began to gush, flashing her beautiful pearly white smile, dimples deep in her cheeks. "We all hung out in the top room playing cards and, you're not going to believe this, I sat on his lap for almost an entire minute."

I rolled my eyes and chuckled, "Oh no! You Harlot!"

She flashed me another one of her million dollar smiles and tucked a stray lock of her purple hair behind her ear, tan skin blushing. "I would swear that up until tonight he didn't even know I existed." She screwed in one of the side bed rails to the headboard and the other end of it to the footboard. One half down.