Unlikely Affection

Written years ago for my High School's lit journal. I decided to transcribe it; now revised.

Drew was awakened by a rustling noise. Like an animal suddenly aware of his surroundings, he listened quietly. He heard the floor creak and a light shuffling noise. When his eyes were finally accustomed to the bluish black aura of the room, he glimpsed at the moon through his open window and the London skyline.

He didn't want to turn and face whatever it was that was responsible for disturbing his slumber. He kept his breathing in the rhythmic form that only one in a deep sleep would make. 

He smelled her perfume on his pillow. Distant memories flowed back into the murky waters of his mind. When a small groan involuntarily escaped his lips the rustling ceased. He debated turning around to face her.

He finally shifted his weight slowly to turn round the other side. There she stood, silent. Her eyes, the color of coal, looked firmly into his, but revealed no emotion. Drew shivered, feeling defenseless. He felt as if she saw through him. He knew he meant nothing to her and he didn't try to keep her from leaving. 

He finally spoke, "I left the check on the table, Lex." 

"Yeah, I was looking for it." She said.

"Did you tell Joe that you're flying in late?"

"I always do. Hey, do me a favor and hand me my tank top."

He reached for the chair beside the bed and threw her the black garment. She slowly pulled it over her body as if it were a jewel. It was strange how she displayed simple affection to the unlikeliest of things but wouldn't or couldn't put an ounce of affection towards him. She zipped up her jeans, carefully smoothing out any wrinkles, then carefully ran the black leather belt through the appropriate loop. 

"Say hi to Joe for me," he began. "Tell him if he needs any more, I'm willing to help out with the medical expenses." 

"Yeah, I'll tell him."

She absentmindedly grabbed her messenger bag and finally pulled her bright red hair into a messy bun. This completed her look. She was now ready to face the world without an ounce of shame, her clothes pristine and her hair messy. 

He continued, "And I'll see you guys in Santa Monica in a few weeks." 

"Yep, see you then." She approached him, but only to pick up the check written out to Joe. Then she left. There was no kiss goodbye, no handshake. 

It was dawn but Drew knew he couldn't go back to sleep. He went into the bathroom and faced the mirror. He brown hair looked worse than it's normal shaggy bed-head. He saw that her peach gloss was still visible on his upper lip. He forcibly wiped it off. After a hot shower, he pulled out fresh clothes so no trace of her or what happened last night would be imprinted on anything that touched him.

He fixed up his hotel room as best he could so that the maid wouldn't have too much work. He also didn't need a visual reminder of her intoxication. He grabbed his messenger bag and left the room. Taking the elevator down to the lobby, he felt enclosed in the space. The hotel itself mocked him with the reminder of her. He slipped into the nearest coffee shop and drank the fresh brown liquid as if his life depended on it. 

His mind flashed thoughts of yesterday and all the other nights they spent together. The first time they met, it was during his freshman year of college. It was somewhere during that endless string of alternating exams and wild parties. Ironically enough, they met at one of those parties. A graduate student, she had read an essay he published in the university paper. She actually rebutted his ideas regarding the ethics of gene splicing. They argued for hours on their opposing views--complimenting each other when one made a valid point. Over time, she had so much influence over him that he changed his major at the end of his sophomore year from genetics to business. Even now at twenty six, he still felt like a college freshman around her, doing anything to make her happy. He knew (or thought he knew) he loved her though he buried it over with the thought of Joe. Even Joe, his best friend didn't have her love. The only thing that kept her loyal to him was his health and well-being. He'd been in a bad skiing accident a few years ago and was just starting to regain some control of his legs. When it first happened he hid it from her, not taking her phone calls. He didn't want her to pity him.

Drew left the coffee shop, grasping a take-out cup in one hand, messenger bag in the other. He walked through Kensington Gardens, taking in the scenery. He sat on a bench overlooking a pond filled with ducks. Tourists walked about admiring the famous pull-out chairs to get a taste of London's lifestyle. As his mind drifted back to last night, he absently dragged his shoe through the gravel path just to hear the sound. He took a sip of coffee, remembering his goal to forget the night before.

He looked around the park for a subject finally finding one worthy of his time. This was part of his routine recovery from the nights before. Outdoors, he could always push away events from the previous nights and start clean. He pulled out a sketchbook and focused on the details ahead. The green of the grass and the dancing lilies were a sad contrast with his own green eyes that had forgotten how to dance. 

He drew for nearly an hour, sketching everything in sight with a maddening focus. He concentrated carefully on the details that he failed to notice a woman sitting next to him. Suddenly, he smelled the fragrance of berries, the same scent of Lex's shampoo. 

He looked around and saw the woman,  peering over his sketchbook. Early twenties, he noted. She was so keen on admiring his work that she didn't seem to notice him staring. She was attractive: medium length brown hair and light brown eyes that indicated a kind yet mischievous person. She didn't look anything like Lex but the scent was the same. 

She finally looked up grinning sheepishly, "I come here everyday but I've never seen you here before. I really like your work." 

"Thanks, I'm here for work actually. I'm Drew." 

He couldn't help but feel the answer was robotic and devoid of any emotion. He needed to work on that. Lex had drained so much out of him. He wanted to feel more than just cheap sex, guilt and the ghost of his past lover stringing him along. 

"Emmy," she said, offering her hand. "Funny, I've never seen someone here on business bring out their sketchbook and a messenger bag instead of a briefcase."

"My meeting isn't until later." he motioned to the sketchbook, "This lets me get away from everything. Preparation for the day ahead." 

"Is everything in your life work related?" 

"You could say that." 

In fact, his time with Lex almost seemed like a chore now. He knew how much it hurt him and yet he did it anyways. It had been years of torture and he was secretly hurting his best friend more than he could bear. It had almost become a job, one that he hated.

A beat from her, "I've never met an artistic businessman." 

"So you think all businessmen are boring?"

"Meetings, schedules, secretaries... I would indeed say that business is boring." she said playfully.

"Well, I promise you I'm not boring." 

"That remains to be seen. Boring or not you're quite talented--and your cup is empty. Do you want some more?" 

"More?" He asked.

"Would you like to join me for another cup of coffee? You've obviously got time on your hands." 

Drew couldn't help but find this girl interesting; in some ways, she resembled Lex--argumentative and playful but in a calmer manner. He couldn't remember the last time he had such an amusing battle of wits. She seemed to make all his muddled thoughts of last night go away. 

He grinned, " Sure, another cup can't be that bad."  

Author's Note

This piece was heavily revised because it was too long to fit in the journal. As much as I loved the critique by my mentor, I've always felt it was truer to his voice then mine. I also underwent a small fight with the administration over details they didn't think was appropriate at the time. This revised version is closer to my (adult?) voice and not the teenager I was when it was first written. Not many changes have been made, the plot is still the same but I wanted it to echo my voice and not someone else's. Also, what's in bold is probably one of my favorite sentences ever composed.