Haste [h.s.]

~02~

I'd forgotten what it was like to wake up on my own accord and not to the sound of high pitched yells or the unnecessary slamming of doors and kitchen cabinets.

Instead, it's been replaced by the sound of occasional passing cars, white noise Ember likes to play on the living room TV while she cooks, and the feeling of my phone vibrating next to me from where I left it last night after forgetting to put it on my nightstand.

After tipsily sending an email to the clinic with who I'd chosen, me and Ember got a little too carried away with the drinks and drunkenly danced to Backstreet Boys in the living room until we stumbled to the ground and fell asleep there.

At some point during the night I woke up from Ember's intense snoring (the kind she does when she gets a little too drunk). I put a blanket over her gently so I wouldn't wake her up (God forbid I even do so or she'd murder me) and slowly made my way into the kitchen with a raging headache and an unsettling feeling pooling in my stomach. I popped two ibuprofens and went straight into my room, leaving her dead asleep on the floor.

One thing about Ember is that once she's fast asleep, you never wake her up. It doesn't matter if she's on the floor, sitting in a toilet, or laying on a dining table. She's one of the most difficult people to help when drunk and throughout the years I've just learned to let her be. Unless we're somewhere in public, that's the only time I suck it up and endure how complicated she can get.

I open one eye to check who's been blowing up my phone this early and see the same name that's been annoying the little patience I have left from before I even left my hometown, reminding me how I have yet to change my phone number and making a mental note to do so sooner rather than later.

During these first few days in Santa Monica, I've quickly begun to feel accustomed to this new lifestyle I thought was only found in books and movies.

The long beach walks, the endless shopping for room decor and personal belongings, the brunch dates, the list is endless.

It was something I can certainly say I ever thought I'd get to experience firsthand, yet I never strained myself from dreaming way beyond what my brain could extend to.

After brushing my teeth on my en-suite bathroom and pulling on a shirt big enough to reach my mid thighs so I don't walk out completely naked, I open the door to find a very elated Ember swaying her hips to an unknown tune she seems to be listening to on her headphones.

What's funnier to me is how she keeps mouthing these words onto the wooden spoon with the white noise playing in the background.

"Crawford." I say her name loudly. Nothing.

She hasn't noticed my presence, and I can't bring myself to stop her from her little daydream, so I go ahead and grab my morning cold brew to prepare an iced coffee and continue my regular routine until she decides to turn around.