26

26
“I tell you how I feel but you don’t care/I say tell me the truth, but you don’t dare/You say love is a hell you cannot bear/So I say give me mine back and then go there for all I care.” –Fiona Apple. “Sleep to Dream.”

Adrienne threw off her wet t-shirt and tossed it in her book bag that sat beside Deshawn’s bed. She pulled her clothes from the day before from beside the bed and began to hastily throw them on. Deshawn leaned against the doorframe. She slipped on her boots without tying them and made her way to the door. He blocked her. “Move, jackass,” she snapped as she stared at his hazel eyes. “Tell me what’s going on,” he said, keeping her from leaving. “What’s going on is I’m getting fucking sick of you, and if you don’t get the hell out of my way I’m going to make you.” Deshawn raised his eyebrows. She stared him down, waiting for him to move. Her eyes glazed over in a cold stare. There was something in her face that frightened him; it wasn’t a fear born of the idea that she’d make him move if he refused to. It was because she’d never looked at him that way before. There was something definitely wrong, something that he couldn’t place. And so he moved.