Home Sweet Home

An original short story by Le Me!!! Remember all isn't fair in love and war.

“Ahh man!” “Not again!” “What time is it?” I look for my phone under a pile of sheets, and there is no sign of it. I see the sunlight peeking through the shades. Damn I slept over. I finally hear Don Omar’s Danza Kuduro coming from my phone. It’s my mother I know she is wondering where I am. I’ll just shoot her a text with some vague story. I am 24 years old. Ever since I moved back home she can’t seem to keep the leash off. I check the time its 6:45 am. “Ugggghhhh!!!” I have to get out of here this just won’t do.

I look at the guy lying next to me. I can barely remember his name or what I’m even doing here. It must not be worth remembering. I look and see what the package looks like that I unwrapped to quickly. He appears to be about 6 feet tall, thin and slightly muscular. His skin tone is pretty ambiguous. It falls somewhere between light skin and dark skin. He has wavy hair, brown eyes, and full soft lips. He is of average looks, not too ugly but not exactly handsome. I call this type the usual. It’s the type that if I was at a bar I frequented, I would say, “Hey bartender, give me the usual!” and he would hand me one of these guys.

This has become the weekend routine. Every weekend for the last few months I’m here with a guy I have no intentions of really getting to know. He is just a guy to pass the time with. Someone to keep me busy during study breaks and moments of monotony. I know I should not be here. Actually I just don’t want to be here. It’s time to go! I just have to figure out how to untangle myself from these legs and arms.

I begin to writhe and wiggle myself free. I have to go potty really bad. He must to because I definitely smelled something funny come from his backdoor region. Now I really have to get out of here. He finally stirs from all my movement and give’s me that “Leaving so soon look?” The stare that always indicates he wants another round of whatever hot and sweaty fiasco we got ourselves into the night before. That’s the moment I realize he drove.

I rack my brain for this weeks excuse. He already knows my son is at his fathers. What’s a good one? Here we go! “ I have a job interview at 10 am. I better hurry home sorry.” I give him the cutie and pouty I’m sorry lip.

He says, “It’s ok sweetie there is always next time!” I giggle and smile knowing good and damn well there will never be a next time. He stands and gets dressed. I look at his abdomen and watch the v-shape lead to the place all women wonder about when we first meet a man. Maybe there will be a next time. Damn he just caught me staring. I look away as fast as I can.

We hop into his ridiculously sub-par whip. He starts to ask me my plans for the week. I give him the basics. I have to study spend time with the kids and so on and so forth. He asks if I can squeeze him in my busy schedule. I hit him with a sexy grin and a maybe. He pulls up to my crib. I kiss him on the cheek goodbye. I really wanted to give him a handshake but the ice queen role was so 2008. I get out of the car and walk to the door. He is already gone before I get the key out. I guess chivalry really is dead.

I walk inside and smell that familiar aroma of my home. I strip my clothes off and hop under my covers. My door opens slightly and my slinky tabby cat hops on my bed next to me. I have a few more hours until little man comes home. It’s 9 am and my phone starts buzzing back to back. It’s him and all the others. Asking me the same question in various forms. All starting with words like baby girl, light skin, and sexy. They all feel entitled in some way I guess. I make tentative dates with each one all the while planning to cancel the day of. I just don’t feel like leaving the comfort of my home sweet home.