"Mark!" I rapped the back of my hand against the bathroom door the next morning, rubbing the corners of my eyes with the other. I'd gotten up earlier in order to take a shower, as I had been sitting in a car for almost three days straight without doing so.
"Come on, I need to wash my hair," I whined, the sound of running water muffling my complaints.
I huffed. "Fine, Mark, I'm coming in there," I said through gritted teeth, butting the door open with my shoulder.
"Get out of there, you little prick," I demanded, yanking the plastic shower curtain aside with my hand.
It wasn't until I heard April shriek with surprise that I realized my mistake. She grasped the shower curtain and struggled to cover herself with it, but it was too late. I'd seen it all. I panicked, spun around, and dashed like lightening out of the bathroom, closing it quickly behind me.
"Oh, shit," I breathed, pressing my back against the door.
"What the hell was that?" I heard Mark's tired voice call from the other room.
"Nothing," I called back, feeling my face flush. I'd take a rain-check on the shower.
***
"Morning, Roger," Mark greeted me cheerily from the kitchen counter. April sat in the barstool beside him, wearing an old terry cloth bathrobe. Mark must have let her borrow it.
"Morning," I murmured, refusing to look at April.
"Want some juice?" Mark offered, handing me the carton of orange juice.
"Thanks," I said, reaching for a glass.
"Aw, be a man. Drink it from the carton," Mark teased.
I glared at him as I poured the liquid into the glass.
"So, did you guys sleep alright?" Mark asked me, holding back a grin.
"Yes. The floor was unusually cozy," I replied, sarcastically.
"You weren't on the floor," Mark protested. He had dug up two old sleeping bags out of his closet for me and April to use for the night.
"Sleeping bag, floor, same thing," I said, taking a swig of juice.
Mark shrugged and turned to April. "So, were you able to manage everything? I left out an extra toothbrush and bottle of shampoo for you. I didn't know whether you'd want to take a shower in the morning or not."
"I managed fine," April said, looking at me.
My cheeks reddened.
"What about you, Rog? I thought you said last night you were going to shower."
"I did."
"When?"
"This morning."
"Your hair's not wet."
"I blew it dry."
"Roger, I don't own a hair dryer."
"He went walking outside with me early this morning," April cut in. "The wind blew it dry for us," she said, winking at me.
"When id you take one then?" Mark asked.
"Once we got home."
Everything was silent for a moment.
Mark shrugged. "You guys are nuts," he said, getting up to put the juice back in the refrigerator.
I mouthed a 'Thank you' to April once he had his back turn, and she smiled lightly and casually bit into her toast.
Mark closed the refrigerator. "So," he said. "I was thinking of heading out and getting some stuff from the convenience store. You know, toothpaste, shampoo, towels. Stuff like that."
I yawned. "Mark, we need a mattress so sleep on."
"I'm working on it. Right now the best I can do is drag the sofa into your room so at least one of you is a bit comfier." He smiled at April. "And I'm sure Roger would be the perfect gentlemen and let you have the sofa all to yourself." He turned to face me. "Right, Roger?"
I grunted in response.
"Isn't he just the perfect gentlemen?" he asked April.
April laughed. "Indeed."
"Alright, so you guys make a list of stuff you want me to pick up for you on the way back, okay?"
"I can tell you that off the top of my head," I said.
Mark looked at me, waiting.
"Hair gel, a comb, mousse, a blow dryer, some aftershave, and strawberry poptarts."
Mark paused. "Um, okay. You want fries with that?"
"Shut up," I grumbled.
"Jeez, someone got up on the wrong side of the bed today," Mark exclaimed.
I shrugged. "I'm not a morning person. You've known me long enough to know that. Besides, I didn't sleep in a bed, remember? I have the right to be cranky."
Mark shrugged. "Whatever. Anything you want, April?"
"Just a hairbrush, toothpaste. I'll go out and buy some extra pairs of clothes for myself later. Oh, and could you maybe pick up one of those old novels they usually sell up front?"
"Novels," I repeated, dumbfounded.
"Yeah. Books," Mark informed me.
"I KNOW what they are," I snapped. "I'm just surprised that she's asking for a book, that's all."
April shrugged. "I like to read."
"Any preferences?" Mark asked her.
"Nah. Just anything that looks interesting. I'll let you decide for me."
"Alright," Mark said, and I could see that he was making a mental note of everything. "I got some extra pity money from my mom…so we could do some furniture shopping together later too. We need at least two beds…" he grinned. "Unless you two wouldn't mind sleeping in a bed together."
"I would," I said, blushing.
Mark laughed. "I'm kidding. I'm just going to go around the corner and get that stuff for you, okay? I'll be back in a little while. You two keep each other company."
"Okay," I answered. "Don't forget the poptarts."
Mark rolled his eyes as he exited the Loft.
April and I glanced at each other uneasily for a moment. I was hoping that she wasn't about to bring up what had happened earlier. Luckily, she didn't.
"I guess I'll just read a magazine or something until he gets back," she said cheerfully, picking up a magazine from off the floor. I saw the words, 'Photo Weekly' on the front cover.
"Yeah, I'm going to uh…take a shower," I said uneasily.
April shrugged. "Alright. Have fun."
I let out a breath of air and made my way into the bathroom, making a note to lock the door behind me.
***
I carefully stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around my waist, and ducked into the 'bedroom' that Mark had set up for April and I to change. April was nowhere to be seen.
I quickly changed into a ripped pair of jeans and a plain white T-shirt with a few holes near the sleeve from wearing it so often. The shirt showed off my arms, and I admired the tattoos on the sides of my arms in front of the mirror. I only had four, now. Two on each arm. My dad had flipped out when he finally saw them. That was probably when he had begun to lose all hope for me.
I sighed and raked my fingers through my hair, trying to spike it up. I squinted at the mirror, checking whether or not I needed to shave. I saw my fender lying out of the case on its side out of the corner of my eye, and placed the mirror down and picked it up from off the floor.
I sat Indian style on the couch cushion that Mark brought into the room. It was his idea of a couch. I slipped the strap over my neck, and plucked the pick from between the strings, and began to strum out a song. After the first few chords, without realizing it at first, I began to sing the words to the song;
If the sun refused to shine, I would still be loving you
When mountains crumble to the sea, there will still be you and me
Kind woman, I give you my all, kind woman, nothing more
Little drops of rain whisper of the pain, tears of love lost in the days gone by
My love is strong, with you there is no wrong,
Together we shall go until we die
My, my, my…
An inspiration is what you are to me…inspiration, look, see,
And so today, my world, it smiles your hand in mine, we walk the miles
Thanks to you it will be done, for you to me are the only one
Happiness, no more be sad, happiness…I'm glad.
I sang the first two lines over again and strummed the final chord. I pulled the guitar strap over my neck and placed the neck between my knees and sighed.
It was only then I saw April in the doorway, watching me intently.
"Oh, uh…I um…" I mumbled, searching for something to say.
"That was beautiful," she said, softly. "Did you write that?"
I snorted.
"What?" she asked, a small smile on her face.
"You really think I'm capable of writing something like that?"
She shrugged. "Considering you wrote the song you played in the car, yes. And that was beautiful too."
"Thanks. I wish I had what it takes to write something like this. It's by Led Zeppelin. Ever hear of them?"
"Yes. But I haven't heard any of their songs until now."
I shrugged. "Well, they sound much better than me. You should hear them live."
"Have you gone to any of their concerts?"
"Once. I went with a couple of guys from my high school. It got pretty crazy, and me and some other people left early. We were really far away anyway. We couldn't see a goddamn thing. And the speakers were all fucked up."
"Sounds like fun."
"Oh, it was," I assured her. I walked over to the window sill and leaned against it with my elbow, gazing onto the fire escape.
"Have you lived in New York all your life?" April asked.
"Yup. In the suburbs. You?"
"New Jersey. Not too far from here. But far enough."
I nodded, wondering what 'far enough' meant.
"It gets lonely," April said softly, "Just me and my dad. When my mom first got sick, I skipped school to stay home and take care of her. So I didn't really have any friends either. Then she died, and I was left alone with my dad. And he hates me."
"I'm sorry," I said, softly. "But if it makes you feel any better, my parents probably hate me by now too."
April shook her head. "Not like my dad does," she muttered.
I paused for a second, giving her the opportunity to explain more. She didn't, and I assumed she would tell me more when she was ready.
"I'm back!" I heard Mark call from the other room. "Guys? Where are you? I got the stuff you asked for."
We heard Mark scuffling around the apartment, and finally he found us.
"Oh, there you are," he said. "I got the stuff for you," he said, handing me a brown paper bag.
"Thanks," I said, grabbing a plastic comb from the bottom of the bag to run it through my hair.
"What'd you guys do while I was gone?"
I shrugged. "I took a shower. Played the guitar for a while."
Mark nodded. "Oh."
I knew he was hoping that something else had happened.
"So," Mark said, waving the cordless phone in front of my face. "Who wants Chinese?"
