How Long is Forever?

How Long Can One Morning Be?

Chris-

"Ughh," something vibrated under me in my sleep, forcing me to wake up. I fished around under the blankets until I found my phone. Damn phone, ruined a perfectly good slumber. Ok, I told myself, just read the text.

"Work, 20 minutes. -Jonathan" If Kat hadn't been asleep just down the hall, I would've thrown a fit. I had a habit of forgetting when I was scheduled for work at the bike shop downtown. So, my boss, Jonathan, had a habit of reminding me of all my shifts. He was a really cool guy actually, I didn't mind working for him. And if I didn't work at the bike shop, I'd spend all my time there anyway, so why not get paid for it? But I'm not a morning person. I repeat, I am not a morning person.

I stumbled into the kitchen, still grumpy that I had been woken up so early. Coffee, I needed coffee. Everything would be better with coffee. I reached for the coffee pot, and nearly dropped it when I discovered that it was already full. "What the hell?" I mumbled. My dad was the only other person who drank coffee, and he was at work. Mom drank coffee to, a little voice in the back of my head said. "Nope, not going there this mornig," I mumbled to myself, telling the voice in my head to shut up. I was still puzzled about the full pot, but whatever, coffee was coffee, so I poured the whole pot into a thermos,took a long sip, and continued.

I walked down the hall quietly, trying not to wake Kat. I prayed that the door wouldn't squeak as I slipped into my room. My jacket was on my floor, I only needed to grab it, then I could head out for work. Kat was laying in my bed, sound asleep. I took a sip of coffee and scanned the room for my jacket. Then it hit me, Kat had made me the coffee, she'd stayed up, knowing I'd be a mess this morning, and made me coffee. I smiled and shook my head, finally finding my jacket. I tip-toes out my room and silently closed the door, leaving Kat to sleep.

"Left for work. Done at noon. Food in the fridge," I quickly jotted on a piece of paper to Kat. I didn't like leaving her sleeping without a note, ever. It'd be like a one night stand thing if she woke up and I was just gone. Even though all we'd done was sleep, in different rooms...whatever, I guess I'm just like that with Kat. She'd woken up alone in empty houses enough. Suddenly, the coffee crossed my mind. "Thanks for the coffee," I added to the note and jogged out the door.

*Katherine*-

I yawned and arched my back, still not quite ready to be awake. "Oh," I said happily, realizing my surroundings. Chris' house. Chris' room. Chris' clothes. Waking up here was always a a pleasant surprise the morning after a party. I think of the poor girls waking up in a stranger's bed, regretting all the alcohol from the night before, hoping she never sees the stranger's face again.

Not me, I got to wake up in Chris' house. Take that, b*tches.

I trudged down the hall, acting like I owned the whole damn house. I made it to the kitchen first, and smiled when I saw that the coffee I'd made Chris was gone. I knew he'd need it. I knew his work schedule better than he did. "Speaking of schedules," I said to myself, opening the fridge, "What am I doing today?"

I fell back onto Chris' couch, my PB&J in hand. I had decided that I was going to do absolutely nothing productive with my day, so I reached for the TV remote. Of course, it was hidden somewhere, a habit of Chris'.

As I searched the couch, I realized how old it really was. As long as I'd known Chris, they'd had the couch. When his mom left, one of the few things she'd left was the couch, probably because it had an ugly plaid pattern. Had Chris really slept on this raggedy old couch every single night I'd stayed over? Wow, I actually felt a little guilty. I took his bed, while he slept on an ugly reminder of his poor excuse for a mother. And then I found the remote and my guilt party came to a halt.

I sat back and took a deep breath, clearing my mind, rather unsuccessfully. "Damnit," I mumbled, knowing exactly where the next hour would take me. Scowling, I went back to Chris' room and opened his closet.

When my stays here started to become really frequent, Chris gave me a box. He told me to put some clothes in it. Just to have at his house. Now, I tore through that box and pulled out jeans, but couldn't find a top. Guess I'd have to do laundry soon. I put my jeans on and left Chris' hoodie on.

Usually when a chick walked around in public with some guy's hoodie on, everyone would just know they were dating. But because of who I am at school, and who Chris is at school, no one ever assumes that we're together. I'm supposed to date the jocks. According to my "friends," at least. When people see me next to Chris, well, they don't see Chris. And I hate it. It wouldn't kill some cheerleader with her boobs popping out of her shirt to at least acknowledge his existence on this planet. It wouldn't kill some hot-head football player, trying to find a way into the nearest girl's pants, to look at Chris. He exists.

Ok, time to think of other things. I had somewhere to be. I had someone to see. They just didn't know it yet.

I don't have a car. And it sucks. I have three options. I can walk, get a ride from one of my "friends," or call Chris. Well, Chris was at work and my "friends" were all most likely hungover. That left me to walk.