There Can't Be a Junior Unless There's a Senior
"I thought you loved me" I say to her.
"I do…"
"Davis" Cache calls, wakening me from my dream or nightmare rather. "Davis, I need your rent money."
Cache is my landlord's daughter. Man, is she hot. She's short, about 5'4" maybe. Beautiful brownish/red hair, green eyes, she is so beautiful. Her name isn't really appropriate for her though. A cache is a hidden supply. She lets all of her emotions hang out. She conceals nothing. And the way it is pronounced is like cash-money. She doesn't have a lot of that.
I get up from my bed and look at the clock. It's nearly noon. I have been sleeping late into the day recently because of all this party business. But it's also been hard for me to fall asleep. The odd part is, once I fall asleep, I can't wake up. I put on a shirt and open the door.
"Ahh, Cache. How lovely to see you. Come in, won't you?"
"I just need your rent money Kenny." She says.
"Kenny?" I say "Oh, yah. That's me. Wow. I really need to get used to that."
"What?"
"People back where I'm from. They called me Junior. But you know, there can't be a 'Junior' unless there's a 'Senior'"
"And you're cutting off your dad from you life?" I nod, as she obeys my beckoning of her in. She sits on the old couch in my living room.
"Let me get you a check." I say, wandering into my bedroom, "Does your father always send you to get rent money?"
"No. Only to the ones who don't like to pay it." Cache says. I laugh.
"I'll have to be one of those then." I say.
"Why?"
"Because then I'll get to see you every month." I say, handing her a check.
"See you later, Davis."