Chapter Five: Doomed to the Couch

"Paige, it's two in the morning."

"I made you a cake."

"Why?"

"Because you were right: I need to get over her." Distantly, I heard Dylan snoring; he and Marco were still living together. "And, since when does Dylan snore?"

"Since he's still sick: he's got a stuffed nose," Marco explained to me, trying to sound nonchalant about my brother's head-cold, but he cared so much, and I knew it. It made me smirk, actually.

"So, what kind of cake did you make me, Paige?" He asked curiously, yawning into the phone, making me yawn too.

"Chocolate cake, chocolate icing; I call it, Death by Chocolate." With the loss of Alex in my life, I came off as a bit morbid, I suppose. And, my sense of humor was running dryer by the minute.

With his exasperated sigh, I assumed that he rolled his eyes to me.

"Hold on," He began, and I heard the bed squeak beneath him. "I'm going downstairs so I don't wake up Dylan."

"Good idea. He's a light sleeper," I remarked, nodding to him, knowing he couldn't see me, but it made me feel better about myself.

After talking to Marco for an hour, his constant yawning brought him to be sleeping on the couch in his and Dylan's living room. I felt bad for him; because I knew he'd be complaining when he woke up: they doomed me to sleep on that couch before, and I woke up grumbling from a sore back. But, Marco can sleep anywhere. He's fallen asleep on the Degrassi steps before, and Alex and I had to wake him up, or else we would have left him there. Just thinking about that brought my thoughts back to Alex again, and I started remembering…

"Where's my pink bra?"
"Which one? Last time I checked, they were all pink, Paigey."

Rolling my eyes to her, she poked her head out of the bathroom, watching me move about our room, tearing through every drawer. "I meant the one I was wearing on Tuesday: the one with the flowers on it, the one you don't like…"

"You mean the one I'm wearing right now?" Alex asked me softly, pushing her own bathrobe off her shoulder a bit, as I walked into the bathroom, peering over her shoulder, pouting. "And, this is my bra, by the way…"

Wrinkling my nose curiously, I folded my arms over my chest, sighing gently, placing a kiss on her cheek. "I hate it when you're right,"

"Why does it matter what color bra you're wearing anyway? We're going to watch Dylan play hockey, babe. I don't think they care what color bra you're wearing." She reassured me, turning off the bathroom light, walking towards our closet: everything was neat, and our wardrobes seemed to mesh ever since we started living together. I wore black with navy blue; she wore pink. Everything had fallen into place somehow, and we could practically finish each other's sentences.

"It matters because… I don't know, it just does," Rummaging through a drawer, I pulled out a white bra. "I think this is yours, but I'm wearing it anyway, hun." I told her, slipping my arms out of my bathrobe, to pull on the bra after fastening it behind me. "Oh, are you wearing a jersey with me, or am I doing that alone?"

"No, I was planning on wearing a jersey with you; don't worry," Alex told me, smiling, as she pulled our jerseys from the closet, each on its own hanger. As she handed one to me, she half smirked: she was expecting a kiss. So, giving in to her, I pecked the tip of her nose, raising my brows playfully.

"Tonight, I promise." I whispered to her, pulling the jersey over my head. It fell past my hips, and covered the new thong I was wearing, which meant Alex couldn't see what she had in store for later tonight. Pulling on a pair of jeans, I wrapped a belt through each loop. Just as I was about to fasten it, I felt Alex wrap her arms around my waist. "Mm, hi there,"

"Hi yourself," She whispered back to me, kissing the back of my head, fastening my belt for me. Once she was finished, I turned in her arms, wrapping mine around her neck.

"I'll safely assume you plan on leaving the apartment in more than… your silk bathrobe and a bra?" She smiled to my question, and nodded. "Good. Because you would freeze and I would be extremely jealous."

"I figured as much," She mumbled back, letting go and taking my arms off of her neck. She proceeded to get dressed: her jersey was black and mine was white, so we didn't entirely match. The fact that we were both wearing jeans might annoy Marco some, but neither of us was too worried with that right now.

"I just need make-up, and then we can go."

But, before I could even make it to the bathroom, she started pulling me for the door. "No make-up for you today: I'm not wearing it, so you aren't either," She commanded of me, and I scowled at her, reluctantly following. I knew better than to protest her wishes, because it would bite me in the ass later.

"Come on, Alex! Just lip gloss!!"

"No. And, give me your car keys."

"Why?"

"I'm driving,"

At that, I narrowed my eyes to her, but she pinned me against the front door, pressing her body into mine. She knew I couldn't refuse her in this position. But, she had already fished the keys out of my front pocket, and pressed a kiss to my forehead. She was sweet like that sometimes…

During my remembering, I had slumped down on the couch, my face buried in the cushions, tears streaming from my eyes. I need to get over her, and find someone else. Sure: I'm resilient. I bounce back fast. But, this hurts. It hurts even more than trying to slit your wrists – not that I've ever tried that, but… okay, you get the point.

Sighing, I sat up, leaning my stiffened back against the couch, and I turned on the television, flipping through channels. Since nothing was on, I decided to watch one of the news channels. Maybe I'd get attached to it. Who knows? Not me.