The knocking came again, harder this time. I reached for my phone on the night stand and squinted against the brightness of the screen. I noticed the time first—10:17 a.m. We’d gotten in at 3:30 a.m., then talked until about 4:30. It was certainly too early to be up now. Next, I noticed all of the notifications, while the knocking continued in the background.
I had seven missed calls from Damien, and three texts. And I only assumed that was him knocking at the door as I read the text messages. Suddenly, I heard him rattling the knob, opening and closing the door once he realized the chain was on it. One final notification popped up on my phone.
Mr. Producer:
I wanna see you.
Damn, I wanted to see him too, and that part probably should’ve bothered me more than it did. My throat felt even drier as the knocking came again. Treasure shifted against me and groaned.
“Who is it?”
“Probably Damien,” I said, standing.
“Get rid of that bum.”
I laughed, coughing from the dryness in my throat. Hurriedly, I crossed the hardwood floor barefoot as the coldness sent me into shock. I slid the chain loose and opened the door just enough to see him.
“Dang, who is that?” Tara asked.
“Don’t wake up now. I don’t know how you slept through all this noise.” I teased her.
“Well, I’m not sleeping now.” She complained. Tara’s eyes opened immediately. She pushed herself up onto her elbows and looked toward the door probably aware this morning wasn’t going to be peaceful.
Damien stood there holding a helium balloon that bumped gently against the doorframe and a teddy bear tucked awkwardly under his arm. He looked like he hadn’t slept much either.
“There you are,” he said, stepping inside before I could decide how I wanted to respond.
“What’s up?”
“Good morning. Came by to give you your gift and maybe cook you your favorite omelet?”
“Oh. Well, Treasure’s in my bed sleeping, and you see Tara, so.”
“What’s up, Tara? Y’all had a sleepover or something?” He asked, looking at me after Tara waved to him.
“Or something.” I shrugged. “So yeah, we’ll probably just order something.”
He stood awkwardly, swaying side to side with his hands in his pocket. He kept looking over my shoulder, for what, I wasn’t sure. I walked away towards the kitchen, unable to handle the dryness any further.
“You’ve been blowing my phone up, Damien. What’s up? I’m tired, and I want to get back in bed.” I said evenly.
“I was worried,” he replied quickly, irritation crept into his voice now that he realized he had an audience. “You ain’t answer me all night.”
I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and twisted the cap off, drinking half of. He glanced toward Tara again, then towards my bedroom. He probably was expecting Treasure to come out and get on his ass. I pulled out a jar of pickles, retrieved one, then sucked on it before finally responding.
“I didn’t answer you? Was this before or after we were supposed to meet for my birthday?”
“Baby-”
“I was out.” I cut him off.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I see that.”
He set the balloon beside the couch and placed the teddy bear on the coffee table. Tara stood and stretched slowly, pretending she wasn’t paying attention. I knew she felt awkward, which is why she was making her way out of our space.
“I texted you,” Damien said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Called, too. I didn’t know what you had going on.”
I leaned against the counter, letting the cool granite press into my back. “You had something going on though,” I taunted him. “Something more important than my birthday, right?”
