Cluttered Notes

No Seas Pendeja (Short Story)

The sound of the afternoon ice cream truck passing through my neighborhood wakes me up, but I can't open my eyes. Crust from all the crying last night is gluing them shut. Maybe it's better this way. I keep them closed as my mind wakes up, and takes me back to the night before.
I'm in his bed. His arms and legs are wrapped around me as if I were a body pillow.
"I love your body," he tells me.
"Thank you," I whisper.
"And your face."
I smile and nod.
"And your voice... everything about you is just so mesmerizing. You're absolutely perfect, I..."
I blur out what he's saying, I'm concentrating too hard on trying to keep a smile on my face. He showers me in compliments and all I can do is fake a smile. He loves me. He's been in love with me for years. I can be a terrible human being sometimes. The dark side of me- if you will.
I'm only there for sex. He knows that. I don't like him nearly as much as he likes me. He knows that. It always hurts me a lot because he can't turn me on enough to enter me correctly. He knows that. I just got out of a relationship. He knows that. Even when I was in the relationship, or the past few, he knew that. He knows all these things yet he still thinks he has a chance. That's why every time I dial his phone, he's at my house within 16 minutes. That's how it has been for the past three years. Neither of us are gaining anything.
I finally get sick of this guy on me. "I need to go home," I murmur. He looks surprised. He always does. Every time I go, I leave as soon as the sex is done. So the surprised look on his face when I say I have to leave annoys me at this point.
"Stay for a while more, I'll make you something to eat," he insists.
I look at my phone and it's midnight. I don't want something to eat. I just want to go home. I'm fucking naked. Where the fuck are my clothes? Why the fuck am I here? Ugh, it's not even worth it anymore!
Still, I take a breath and look at him calmly. The angel on my shoulder reminds me to be nice; this boy has done nothing but try to please me. "Okay," I say with another fake ass smile. He turns on the tv for me and puts on my favorite show, American Horror Story. I lay down and he goes to the kitchen.
I drift off into a light sleep and finally get woken up by a delicious scent coming from the kitchen. A few minutes later he comes in with two bowls. Italian sausage soup. My mouth waters.
"Let me get dressed because I don't feel like eating while nude," I say as he turns on the light. There's finally light so I can look for my clothes. I put everything on and sit crisscross on the bed. He sits next to me and hands me my bowl. The food is freaking amazing. Part of me is glad I stayed but every time I look at his annoying face I remember how much I miss my bed. I clean my plate and want to ask for seconds but don't want to stay there another minute, so I get up and take my plate to the kitchen. Without a word, I come back into his room and begin to put on my shoes.
He gets the hint and does the same. This time he doesn't look surprised, but more disappointed. He grabs my face and says in a sad tone, "I wish you could stay longer." I give him a hug and reply, "Me too. I'll wait in your car."
The drive home is awkward and silent. I tell him the food was delicious and that he should give me the recipe one day. He says I can go over whenever and he'll make it for me. He tries to continue the conversation and compliments start to come out of his mouth like vomit. Again, I blur out the comments and just keep smiling.
When I get home I sneak back into my house and go straight to the restroom. I take off my contacts and brush my teeth to get ready for bed. I put lotion on my face and change into my pajamas. The second my skin touches the bed, tears flood my eyes. When I lay down, they pour out onto my face and pillow.