What Rhymes With Orange

A Visitor

Holy shit. I stared into the mirror and realized that last night I wore my shoes to bed but decided to take my pants off, so that was one big question mark. I had wildly messed up hair, wine stains on my shirt and I wore a black fleece jacket I didn't own. The most horrid assumptions came to mind.

"NO FUCKING WAY!"

I screamed at my reflection. Oh come on, I wasn't THAT drunk. And all that crap about 'not remembering' is bullshit excuse made by cheap girls ashamed of their stupid mistakes. Unless they've been drugged. In which case, I'm sorry for calling you cheap, whoever you are. I was on my way downstairs to check if there was anyone else in the house when I stopped at the thought. Nah, nobody would drug me just to get in my pants. I continued walking down the steps, stopped just before the kitchen entrance and peeked inside. I did the same in the living room. I gasped, "The bathroom!" I rushed back upstairs and checked the tub. I was all alone, and the house keys were on the foyer which meant I showed myself in properly like always. The hallelujah chorus played in my head. THANK YOU, GOD!

I showered, brushed my teeth and put on a violet t-shirt and blue-but-almost-gray faded jeans that still smelled of fabric conditioner. I sprayed on some light cologne, changed the bed sheets and was relieved to have successfully washed off the man smell from my room and my body. Hanging the jacket on my bedroom doorknob, I sat on the bed staring at it and pondered on how this unfortunate turn of events came to be. I remembered leaving, sure, but only bits and pieces of it. I could have sworn I picked up my cardigan, not this. It was from my seat. The porch. My... A sudden flashback came rushing in. I recalled how I took off my cardigan right after lunch, inside George's house, placing it on top of my dining chair. Dining chair, idiot. I sighed aloud and buried my face in my hands, accepting my defeat. But wait a minute. Why didn't Adam say anything? Was he drunk, too? I decided to call him after I've had breakfast. Should I even bother to get my cardigan? It's two hours away. Seemed like a lot of effort just for a small item, so I quickly brushed it off and went downstairs to make pancakes. Flipping the last one onto my plate, I checked the time. It was 8:30. A little late, but not bad I guess. I finished all four pieces in record time, surprised at how hungry I was. The kettle was whistling when I checked my jar of coffee. Aw crap, I'm out of coffee again. I turned the stove off, went upstairs to put on my cream-colored sweater, slipped into my black doll shoes and hurried back down, eager for that first sip of bitter goodness from the café just five minutes away. It's cheaper to make your own coffee, sure, but the store was further down the road and I needed caffeine quick so I decided to go for over-the-counter just this once. I got the keys from the foyer table and went out the door. Adam was there.

"Shit! You scared me. How long have you been standing there?"

"Good morning to you, too. Now give me my jacket, please."

Oh, and I'm being rude? "I was gonna call you, by the way. Jacket's inside, but I haven't washed it yet." I gestured towards the door behind me. He smiled and said, "Don't worry about it. Here's yours." He was hiding my cardigan behind his back before he handed it over. "I took the liberty of removing the orange peels, I hope you didn't plan to keep them," he continued. This is so embarrassing. Why do I keep doing this to myself? "Thanks," I replied. "Sorry about the jacket. I swear I thought I picked up my cardigan. I'll just get it real qui... you know what, maybe you should wait inside, yeah?" Adam nodded. "Okay. Thank you." He was right behind me as I was unlocking the door. It's that awful man smell again. What is that, that thing they call aftershave, is it? We walked into the foyer, I took my sweater off and hung it on the coat rack. Adam was looking around when he said, "Nice place. I like it." I chuckled. "You don't find it cramped at all? Most people do." He looked at me sharply. "Why would anyone say that? Are all your friends over six feet tall?" I laughed. What friends? "Thanks. Glad you like it. Living room's over here. You can wait by the couch if you like. Jacket's upstairs." Adam walked into the living room and sat down. "Great, thanks." I headed towards the steps when I stopped and turned back. "Oh, um. I just ran out of coffee, sorry. Uh, there's water in the kitchen. Just go right across if there's anything you need." He smiled. "Got it." I hurried up and got the jacket from the doorknob, folded it on the bed, found a small paper bag in the closet and put it inside. Yes! It fit perfectly. "I got it," I called out as I was going down. Adam was already standing by the living room entryway. "I found a paper bag for you. I noticed you weren't carrying a bag, so... I hope that's okay." He opened it and looked inside. "I'm sorry, I should've washed it last night. You sure you want to take it with you now?" He looked up at me and smiled. "Yes, I'm sure. Thank you for going through so much trouble to package this. I seriously expected you to just throw it at me and shut the door in my face." We both laughed. That would've been much easier, wouldn't it? "Aw, come on. I'm not that rude. Where are you getting your impression of me anyway?" I gestured to get a sweater from the coat rack and stopped when I realized I already had one on. I arranged the jackets, pretending that was my first intention. Adam didn't notice and I was relieved. He chuckled and said, "Nah, I'm just kidding around. Where are you headed?" I tied my hair back into a ponytail and answered, "Small café just around the corner. Wanna come with?" His eyes lit up. "Sure."