I give you permission to hate me. I really do. I haven't updated this story all summer or the first month of school. I really should thank Data Girl 3, because she basically gave me the will to continue to update. I really hope you read it.
Loving Girlfriend
The graveyard looked very pretty and festive. Just the way she would have wanted it. She was always saying she didn't want to die in a scary place. She would never admit it, but I think she was afraid of the dark. I always saw her run into the bed really fast when I made her shut off the lights. She had a weird way of jumping 10 feet away from the bed and managing to land on the mattress. I think she thought something was under the bed and that it was trying to get her. One time I asked her about it, but she just said she wanted to get into bed fast so she could sleep. I sighed. Now, she would have eternal sleep. Everlasting sleep is what Angel would call it. I hated that term.
I hated my outfit at the moment too. I couldn't stand suits. I would rather be wearing jeans and a t-shirt. She once told me that she wanted people to wear red at her funeral, because it was a prettier color than black. I laughed at the thought of wearing red. Then I frowned at the thought of her being dead. I always thought I would die before her, but I guess I was wrong. I waited in line to see her precious headstone. Why am I at the back of the line? I was her boyfriend. Does anyone care? Not many people are there. I sigh. I don't recognize anybody. I can't see anybody's faces either. Anyone in a situation like mine would not care about the surroundings, but I was different. That was the only thing I wanted to look at. I decided to finally, look forward. I saw the freshly dug up plot of land and my stomach churned. I wanted to bury myself in that dirt and make my way down, until I found her. I wanted to hold her hand one more time. I wanted to be with her.
I saw her tombstone. I turn around and see my friends urging me to go forward. I look at the beautiful inscription. I don't notice anything but the part that says "Miss" I didn't like the way it looked. "Loving Girlfriend" meant nothing to me. I heard a person pass by me.
"Oh," he said. "She was just a girlfriend. If she was alive, that is basically a way to say 'I am seeing someone, but I am available.'" The man laughed and walked away.
He was right. Girlfriend just meant someone that I could call my lover, but I could never call them mine.
I wish I had done it sooner. I wish I had made her mine, before it was too late. I wish I could turn back time and bring her back. I had been spoiled by the thought of bringing her back. Now she was gone and for good this time. I knew it too. I wouldn't deny it anymore. I would just regret it. Regret it, regret it, and regret it. I would never forget the regret.
Why didn't I do it sooner? Why?
Roger sat up, sweating. He looked outside, the sun was just rising.
"I know what to get her for Valentine's Day," he said, smiling. He went to stand up, but the room began to spin slightly. He lay back down and decided to sleep until the sun was totally out.
He closed his eyes and was about to fall asleep when he heard a knock on the door.
"Hello?" he asked sleepily.
"Are you okay?" said Maya. She had pink fuzzy slippers and a long white robe on. She was staring at Roger with wide eyes.
"Are you okay?" she repeated.
"Yes," he said, yawning. "Why?"
"You were yelling in your sleep," she said. "Tom sent me up to see if you were okay."
"I am fine," he said. "What time is it?"
"Around 6 I think," she said.
"Do you want to go to the stores with me?" he asked.
"Since when does the famous rock star wake up early?" she laughed.
"It is important," he said. Maya thought for a moment and nodded.
"I will meet you here in 10 minutes," she said.
Maya ran into her apartment and knocked on Collins' door. "Tom," she called. "I am going to the stores with Roger."
"Now?" he asked from his bedroom, sleepily.
"Yes now," Maya said. "Can I go?"
"Just be careful," Tom yawned.
Maya ran to her room and threw on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt that said NYU. It was Tom's and when she wore it, it really made her feel a part of a family. She was never allowed to wear clothing from her old dad. He was too egocentric. Maya smiled sadly. No matter how self-centered as he was, though, he was so nice and caring and Maya definitely missed him.
She threw her hair in a ponytail and made her way upstairs.
"Rog," she called threw the door.
Roger was waiting on the couch. He had already been dressed when he went to sleep, so he was ready.
"Mimi?" he thought instantly. No one had ever called him Rog but Mimi. He ran to open the door, when he saw Maya. He frowned, remembering it would be impossible for Mimi to be here.
"Ready?" she said.
"Yea," Roger whispered. He had a small white envelope in his back pocket as he closed the door.
"Do you want a coat?" she asked. "It is beginning to snow."
"I'm fine," he said. The two walked down the street. The wind was picking up quickly as they trudged through the city.
"Where are we going?" Maya asked.
"The Jewelry store," Roger yelled over the wind.
"Why?" she asked.
"I need to get Mimi something."
The store was on the better side of town. It was wedged between an eye care center and a Macy's. It was a pale blue building with a window display that had gorgeous diamonds sparkling under the spotlight.
"Maybe we shouldn't," Roger sighed, turning around.
"What is your plan?" Maya asked. She stood in front of him and stared up at his unshaved face.
"We look out of place in there," he said.
"What is your plan," she said firmly.
"We can look for another place closer to our side of town."
"What is your plan?"
"I guess I could just get her flowers. Is that a good idea?" he asked no one in particular.
"WHAT IS YOUR PLAN?" Maya yelled.
Roger looked down at her. "I want to make Mimi Marquez my wife." He hung his head and rubbed his temples.
"Roger," she said. "You need to do what you have to do now. I don't mean next week, next month, or next year. I mean now."
Roger looked at her and nodded. "I will, under one circumstance."
"What?" she asked.
"You need to help me pick out the diamond."
Maya smiled and slid her arm through his in a sisterly way. "Of course," she said.
o o o o o
Mark woke up and spun around, cracking his back. He hated sleeping on the couch. It killed in the morning. He looked around the room for the last place he put his glasses. When he found them, the room came into focus. He gasped. There were red petals all over the couch.
"Maureen," he called.
"Pookie," she cried, coming out of the bedroom, wearing all red. "Happy Valentine's Day!" She gave him a big kiss, which made Mark push her away.
"What about last night? Aren't you still angry?" he sat down on the couch and stared at her.
"Listen Pookie, I am very sorry, because I know I overreacted. I was thinking that I need to put her behind me. Forgive me?" She stuck out her bottom lip and gave him a puppy dog look.
"Fine," he said. "What are all the roses for?"
Maureen smiled. "It's Valentine's Day and I wanted to give you something special. I love you."
She handed a rectangle wrapped gift. The wrapping paper was red with pink hearts. She looked very proud of it.
He slowly opened it and smiled. It was a pink fuzzy frame. It looked like a small child had made it, because it had dried hot glue on it. In the frame was a photo of Maureen. It looked as if it had been taken recently. She had her back to the camera, but her head was turned over her shoulder. Her eyes were sparkling and mysterious at the same time. It was in black and white. The only color was her red sweater. It made the picture even more glamorous. He then looked at her hands in the picture, which were hanging at her side. She had a camera that looked identical to Mark's dangling from her right hand. Mark looked at his girlfriend and smiled.
"I love it," he said.
"Happy Valentine's Day," she said. It was so typical of Maureen to get people a picture of herself as a gift.
"I thought we were going to wait until Mimi got home?" Mark said.
"I couldn't wait," she said. She stood up to go make some coffee.
"I suppose you want your gift?" he laughed.
She looked up at him, trying to look surprised. "Me?" she asked.
"Yes you. Do you want your gift?" he laughed.
"I didn't think you were getting me something," she said, even though she knew perfectly well she was getting a gift.
"Who did your picture?" he asked, pulling out a white sheet.
"The place downtown. I was saving the money to take a picture for my protest posters, but you're more important."
Mark rolled his eyes. He quickly ran to find his camera and the projector.
"It isn't much, but I think you'll like it," he said, turning the camera on. Dust shot out in big puffs when the old projector fan began spinning rapidly.
The screen turned on and big red letters spelt out: Maureen.
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