Chapter 17 THE MORNING AFTER
It was Jake's voice, sleepy and slightly confused, coming from directly beside us on the sofa.
We pulled apart fast.
I moved away and sat up. Alexander sat up. I smoothed the dress. He straightened his hair, gasping softly. The whole thing took approximately two seconds.
Jake was sitting up on the other end of the sectional, blinking at the room with the unfocused look of someone not entirely sure where they were. His hair was on one side. His eyes were half closed.
"Bathroom," he said again, to no one in particular.
"Down the hall, Jake." Alexander said. His voice was completely normal. Steady. Like nothing had happened. "Down the hall."
Jake nodded slowly. He stood up.
He walked toward the kitchen without looking at either of us, moving carefully the way people moved when the floor felt shaky.
I stared straight ahead at the blank television screen.
Alexander stared at the same screen. The music was still playing.
We did not look at each other. We did not speak.
From the bathroom came the sound of a tap running. He then came out, suddenly looking much better. He went straight to the kitchen and next was the sound of glass being filled.
"Lily," Alexander said quietly.
"It was the crazy bond," I said immediately.
There was a pause.
"Yes," he said. After a moment.
"It is the bond," I said. "That is all this is."
He said nothing.
"That is all it is," I said again, quieter this time like I was saying it to myself more than to him.
The tap in the kitchen turned off. Jake's footsteps came back down the hall. He appeared in the doorway, glass in hand, looking extra awake.
He looked at me and then looked at Alexander.
"You two okay?" he said.
"Fine," I said.
"Watching something?" he said, nodding at the blank television.
"It finished," Alexander said.
Jake nodded slowly. "I think I am going to sleep upstairs," he said. "Sorry for passing out." He looked at me. "Did I miss anything?"
I looked at the television.
"Nothing, Jake." I said. "You did not miss anything."
He nodded and then he padded toward the stairs.
"Night," he said from the hallway.
"Night Jake," I said.
His footsteps went up. And then it was just us again, the music and the dark.
The seventeen minutes past midnight that had changed something I did not know how to change back.
I stood up, smoothed the dress one more time.
"I am going to the guest room," I said.
"Okay," he said.
I picked up my heels from the floor, walked toward the doorway and stopped. I did not turn around.
"Alexander," I said.
"I know," he said quietly.
I did not know what he knew but I did not ask. I walked upstairs and lay in the guest room in the dark in his dress and stared at the ceiling and listened to the music still playing softly downstairs long after I should have been asleep.
I woke up to sunlight and the smell of coffee. For exactly four seconds I did not remember where I was. Then I did.
I lay very still on the guest bed staring at the ceiling with the green dress twisted around me and my heels on the floor and the events of the previous night jumping into my memory one by one.
I remembered the party, Jake falling asleep, the music, his shoulder, his hands, his....
I sat up. I needed to leave. I needed to leave immediately before anyone was awake and before I had to look at anyone's face and perform the very difficult act of appearing normal.
I swung my legs off the bed, found my heels and looked at the green dress.
I could not walk home in a dress that cost more than my school fees. I needed my own clothes. My own jeans. My own blue top that I had ironed twice and that now felt like something from a previous life.
I found them folded on the chair in the corner where I had left them last night.
I changed quickly, held the green dress for a moment, folded it carefully and laid it on the bed.
Then I picked up my bag, opened the guest room door as quietly as possible, and stepped into the hallway.
The house was so quiet.
Good.
I moved toward the stairs. The smell of coffee was stronger here.
I hesitated at the top of the stairs. Coffee meant someone was awake. Coffee meant a kitchen. A kitchen meant....
"You are awake."
Alexander's voice.
It sounded from below.
I closed my eyes briefly. Then I went downstairs. He was in the kitchen.
He had changed out of last night's clothes into large, dark track pants and a plain red shirt and his hair was slightly damp like he had already showered and he was standing at the counter pouring coffee into two mugs like this was completely ordinary.
My heart couldn't rest.
It was Saturday morning.
He looked up when I came in.
"Sit down, Lily," he said.
"I was going to head home," I said.
"After coffee," he said.
It was not a question. So, I sat down at the kitchen island. He slid one of the mugs across to me.
I wrapped both hands around it. We did not speak.
The kitchen was very bright in the morning light. Everything in it gleamed the way things gleamed when they were expensive and well maintained and mostly unused.
This was a kitchen built for cooking that was rarely cooked in.
I looked at my coffee. He looked at his.
"Jake is still asleep," he said.
"Okay," I said.
"He will probably sleep until noon," he said.
"Okay," I said again.
Silence.
The coffee was good. Strong and slightly bitter the way I liked it without ever having told anyone I liked it that way.
I did not think about that.
"Last night...." I started.
"....was the bond," he said.