(3) The first day of the rest of my life.
My eyes pop open, and out of reflex, I jump up to a sitting position, causing many different colored circles of light to cloud my vision. That was a bad idea. My hand immediately goes to my head as I lay back down. I open my eyes to see a bulky figure sitting in a chair across from my bed stir.
"Wha'd you do da me?", I ask it.
"Huh?......You're awake.......For a minute there I thought we lost you", it smiles groggily. Mark stands from the chair and takes a seat on my bed beside me. He places a warm hand to my forehead.
"What the hell kinda pills did you give me, man?", I ask him, assuming they were the reason for my blackout.
"Advil", he chuckles. I guess the blow knocked me out.
"Why are you still here?........Seeing as how you always leave......your the last person I expected to wake up to", I groan. His face falls in hurt.
"I wanted to make sure you were okay", he says softly looking away from me.
"Well, I'm fine now..........you can go, cause I know you're itching to get out of our lives again", I tell him coldly, getting up slowly from my bed. He's silent.
"Actually, I do have to go......I got some shit.....I gotta take care of today, but I want to talk to you..........later.....maybe for lunch?", he asks helping me to my feet.
"I'm busy", I shoot him down, lying. God knows I have absolutly no plans for lunch.
"Dinner then.....I'll pick you up at eight...", he starts, backing towards my door, as I stand on shaky legs in the middle of the room.
"I can't.....", I begin to protest.
"Don't worry about dressing nice......I'll cook......at my place.......see you then", he spits, jetting out the door, before I can refuse. Great, now he's actually gonna have a chance to explain things. I don't want an explanation. I don't know what I want. You don't just walk into someone's life after five years, knock them out, and make dinner plans the next day. One thing about him hasn't changed, his tenacity, and determination to have what he wants. I finally regain some sense of stability and walk downstairs to a small woman cursing vividly in spainish.
"Buenos dias, Rosa", I stumble past our housekeeper. She curses even louder.
"Aye! When your brother gets home......", she yells to the floor, then shakes her broom in the air. I walk into the kitchen. Great, now I actually have to have dinner with him.....and in his house to pour salt on the wound. Why am I so wound up about this? He's just trying to be nice. There may actually be a good reason to his leaving. I grab a carton of orange juice, take a sip, and spit it back out. Vodka.....in the goddamn carton. I sigh heavily and head back up to my room.
The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. I ate and sat in the entertainment room to watch a movie, one of HIS movies, Boiler Room, but I fell asleep right after Giovanni Ribisi got busted. The only reason I woke up was because Ricky came home to an irrate housekeeper. My spanish is horrible, but I think she probably threatened to kill him at one point. Then my girl, Halie came over to talk, which is ironic, cause she always does talking. I braided her hair, we swam a little, then she left, which brings us up to speed. I am now standing in my closet fighting with the little voices in my head. I refuse to get all done up for him, but at the same time, I don't want to look like a slob. Finally, I just pull down a pair of dark blue Levi's, a white thermal, and a Hurley t-shirt. I take a quick shower and get dressed, letting my hair just air dry into a wavy mess. I look over at my alarm clock.....7:45. Okay, I guess he wants to be punctual. I lay back on my bed and look up at the ceiling. I begin to feel sleepy for the millionth time today. What the hell? I sit up on the bed. If I fall asleep, I won't wake up in fifteen minutes. I walk downstairs and peek out the windows for a car of some kind.
"You expecting somebody?", Ricky asks from the couch.
"Maybe", I ignore him.
"Who?", he asks getting up.
"Mark and I are gonna have dinner......at his place", I tell him waiting for an angry refusal. He's so fucking protective that it's ridiculous.
"Mark?......Mark who?", he cocks his head to the side, confused.
"Mark Vincent"
"Mark?.......Vin?.....Vinny?", he asks. I nod.
"Did you talk to him last night?.........I didn't think you knew he was in town....well lived here", he asks again.
"I knew he lived in L.A., wonder what brought him to us now........we've been here for two years", I mumble, interrupted by a knock on the door. Ricky and I look at each other expectantly. Yeah, it could be him, but random people are always showing up at our door to see my brother, so I walk over and nudge him to answer the door. He opens it and there Mark stands. My breath hitches in my throat as he hugs my brother. He always been handsom, but it's so different now. He's wearing black slacks, and a metalic dress shirt that's unbuttoned at the top and untucked. He steps back from my brother and walks over to me.
"You're early", I tell him smirking. He hugs me. God, his cologn smells heavenly.
"I couldn't wait to see you again", he jokes. I smile back. I look down at my sneakers.
"I thought we wern't gonna dress up"
"I had a meeting....with some.....I didn't have time to change", he apologizes.
"It's okay"
"But you look nice", he adds, trying to make me feel better.
"You're a great liar........let's go", I walk past him and hug Ricky.
"Be careful" , He tells us on our way out the door. I turn back and see him whisper something to Mark. He nods and closes the door behind him.
"What was that about?", I ask him.
"Nothing", he shakes his head. I stare at him hard and he stops to open the door for me. No one has ever opened a car door for me before. I continue to stare at him.
"What?", he asks stopping in his path to the other side, and walking back to me. I stand there in front of him, speachless. Like, I could actually admit the the reason I look like a deer in headlights is because no one has ever taken the time to open a car door for me. He's a better guy than I give him credit for. Suddenly I feel guilty for thinking so badly of him, just because of a crush I had a million years ago. That simple act shows me that he can't be as bad as I want him to be. I only want to hate him to justify may pain, but there's no reason to. How could I hate someone who opened a car door for me? I'm thinking too much, and he's still waiting on a response, so I just spit out the first thing that comes to mind.
"Nothing", I begin to get in the car. He just smiles and shakes his head while walking back to the driver side. I sit in the black Tahoe, setteling into the gray leather seats. His car even smells great. The dinging alarm that always lets you know that you door is open, peirces through me, joilting me back to now. He gets in and I just look straight ahead out of nervousness. Now that I've actually decided to relax, and have a good time, I can't. He sits back and puts the keys in.
"You okay?", he giggles.
"Yeah, I'm fine", I whip my head around. Chill out girl, it's just Mark. I wonder if he still lets people call him that. He cranks the car, and we pull out of the car court.
"Can I still call you Mark?.............or should I call you...Vin?", I ask him timidly.
"Is that what was bothering you?......Peaches, you can call me anything you want", he smiles. I almost forgot how much I loved to hear him call me that. His pet name for me, that I always acted like I hated, but secretly loved.
"Oh, I'm sorry.......your a big girl now.....I mean....Letticia", he laughs. I laugh with him.
"It might be weird, calling you that..........I know all your....friends used to call you that, but you were always Mark to me...", I get a little more serious. I sense that he feels a little guilty for being.....kinda mean to me. He was never really mean, he was actually the nicest out of all Ricky's asshole friends, but he was a boy, he got annoyed by me easily. I never blamed him for it, it was just.........the way things were.
".........But I guess I could call you Vin......seeing as how you're all famous now.....", I smile, settling back into my seat. I feel his tension disappear, and I'm relieved. I wonder what he could possibly want to talk about. I don't know, but whatever he has to say, I'm more than willing to hear.
My eyes pop open, and out of reflex, I jump up to a sitting position, causing many different colored circles of light to cloud my vision. That was a bad idea. My hand immediately goes to my head as I lay back down. I open my eyes to see a bulky figure sitting in a chair across from my bed stir.
"Wha'd you do da me?", I ask it.
"Huh?......You're awake.......For a minute there I thought we lost you", it smiles groggily. Mark stands from the chair and takes a seat on my bed beside me. He places a warm hand to my forehead.
"What the hell kinda pills did you give me, man?", I ask him, assuming they were the reason for my blackout.
"Advil", he chuckles. I guess the blow knocked me out.
"Why are you still here?........Seeing as how you always leave......your the last person I expected to wake up to", I groan. His face falls in hurt.
"I wanted to make sure you were okay", he says softly looking away from me.
"Well, I'm fine now..........you can go, cause I know you're itching to get out of our lives again", I tell him coldly, getting up slowly from my bed. He's silent.
"Actually, I do have to go......I got some shit.....I gotta take care of today, but I want to talk to you..........later.....maybe for lunch?", he asks helping me to my feet.
"I'm busy", I shoot him down, lying. God knows I have absolutly no plans for lunch.
"Dinner then.....I'll pick you up at eight...", he starts, backing towards my door, as I stand on shaky legs in the middle of the room.
"I can't.....", I begin to protest.
"Don't worry about dressing nice......I'll cook......at my place.......see you then", he spits, jetting out the door, before I can refuse. Great, now he's actually gonna have a chance to explain things. I don't want an explanation. I don't know what I want. You don't just walk into someone's life after five years, knock them out, and make dinner plans the next day. One thing about him hasn't changed, his tenacity, and determination to have what he wants. I finally regain some sense of stability and walk downstairs to a small woman cursing vividly in spainish.
"Buenos dias, Rosa", I stumble past our housekeeper. She curses even louder.
"Aye! When your brother gets home......", she yells to the floor, then shakes her broom in the air. I walk into the kitchen. Great, now I actually have to have dinner with him.....and in his house to pour salt on the wound. Why am I so wound up about this? He's just trying to be nice. There may actually be a good reason to his leaving. I grab a carton of orange juice, take a sip, and spit it back out. Vodka.....in the goddamn carton. I sigh heavily and head back up to my room.
The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. I ate and sat in the entertainment room to watch a movie, one of HIS movies, Boiler Room, but I fell asleep right after Giovanni Ribisi got busted. The only reason I woke up was because Ricky came home to an irrate housekeeper. My spanish is horrible, but I think she probably threatened to kill him at one point. Then my girl, Halie came over to talk, which is ironic, cause she always does talking. I braided her hair, we swam a little, then she left, which brings us up to speed. I am now standing in my closet fighting with the little voices in my head. I refuse to get all done up for him, but at the same time, I don't want to look like a slob. Finally, I just pull down a pair of dark blue Levi's, a white thermal, and a Hurley t-shirt. I take a quick shower and get dressed, letting my hair just air dry into a wavy mess. I look over at my alarm clock.....7:45. Okay, I guess he wants to be punctual. I lay back on my bed and look up at the ceiling. I begin to feel sleepy for the millionth time today. What the hell? I sit up on the bed. If I fall asleep, I won't wake up in fifteen minutes. I walk downstairs and peek out the windows for a car of some kind.
"You expecting somebody?", Ricky asks from the couch.
"Maybe", I ignore him.
"Who?", he asks getting up.
"Mark and I are gonna have dinner......at his place", I tell him waiting for an angry refusal. He's so fucking protective that it's ridiculous.
"Mark?......Mark who?", he cocks his head to the side, confused.
"Mark Vincent"
"Mark?.......Vin?.....Vinny?", he asks. I nod.
"Did you talk to him last night?.........I didn't think you knew he was in town....well lived here", he asks again.
"I knew he lived in L.A., wonder what brought him to us now........we've been here for two years", I mumble, interrupted by a knock on the door. Ricky and I look at each other expectantly. Yeah, it could be him, but random people are always showing up at our door to see my brother, so I walk over and nudge him to answer the door. He opens it and there Mark stands. My breath hitches in my throat as he hugs my brother. He always been handsom, but it's so different now. He's wearing black slacks, and a metalic dress shirt that's unbuttoned at the top and untucked. He steps back from my brother and walks over to me.
"You're early", I tell him smirking. He hugs me. God, his cologn smells heavenly.
"I couldn't wait to see you again", he jokes. I smile back. I look down at my sneakers.
"I thought we wern't gonna dress up"
"I had a meeting....with some.....I didn't have time to change", he apologizes.
"It's okay"
"But you look nice", he adds, trying to make me feel better.
"You're a great liar........let's go", I walk past him and hug Ricky.
"Be careful" , He tells us on our way out the door. I turn back and see him whisper something to Mark. He nods and closes the door behind him.
"What was that about?", I ask him.
"Nothing", he shakes his head. I stare at him hard and he stops to open the door for me. No one has ever opened a car door for me before. I continue to stare at him.
"What?", he asks stopping in his path to the other side, and walking back to me. I stand there in front of him, speachless. Like, I could actually admit the the reason I look like a deer in headlights is because no one has ever taken the time to open a car door for me. He's a better guy than I give him credit for. Suddenly I feel guilty for thinking so badly of him, just because of a crush I had a million years ago. That simple act shows me that he can't be as bad as I want him to be. I only want to hate him to justify may pain, but there's no reason to. How could I hate someone who opened a car door for me? I'm thinking too much, and he's still waiting on a response, so I just spit out the first thing that comes to mind.
"Nothing", I begin to get in the car. He just smiles and shakes his head while walking back to the driver side. I sit in the black Tahoe, setteling into the gray leather seats. His car even smells great. The dinging alarm that always lets you know that you door is open, peirces through me, joilting me back to now. He gets in and I just look straight ahead out of nervousness. Now that I've actually decided to relax, and have a good time, I can't. He sits back and puts the keys in.
"You okay?", he giggles.
"Yeah, I'm fine", I whip my head around. Chill out girl, it's just Mark. I wonder if he still lets people call him that. He cranks the car, and we pull out of the car court.
"Can I still call you Mark?.............or should I call you...Vin?", I ask him timidly.
"Is that what was bothering you?......Peaches, you can call me anything you want", he smiles. I almost forgot how much I loved to hear him call me that. His pet name for me, that I always acted like I hated, but secretly loved.
"Oh, I'm sorry.......your a big girl now.....I mean....Letticia", he laughs. I laugh with him.
"It might be weird, calling you that..........I know all your....friends used to call you that, but you were always Mark to me...", I get a little more serious. I sense that he feels a little guilty for being.....kinda mean to me. He was never really mean, he was actually the nicest out of all Ricky's asshole friends, but he was a boy, he got annoyed by me easily. I never blamed him for it, it was just.........the way things were.
".........But I guess I could call you Vin......seeing as how you're all famous now.....", I smile, settling back into my seat. I feel his tension disappear, and I'm relieved. I wonder what he could possibly want to talk about. I don't know, but whatever he has to say, I'm more than willing to hear.