Just another story - 6

She left the door open and walked in. I followed her. Her house was more or less my second home. She got into bed and pulled up the covers up to her chin. I sat at the far end of the bed.

I remembered the first time I had stayed over at her place. Boy was she mad! I’d just had a drunken spree and had been unceremoniously dumped in front of Maya’s house. I had stumbled over, tripping over everything that came in my way. I still remember the look on Maya’s face as she had opened the door carefully wondering who was making that racket in the middle of the night.

 Relief had flashed instantly over her face that it was me and not some crazy lunatic trying to break down her front door. Laughter had followed, at my obviously drunken state and then finally horror, when she realized that I was being dumped at her place for the night.

Though I must say, that after the initial shock, she recovered pretty quickly and took me under her wing like a drill sergeant. I don’t remember much, but I do remember feeling warm and cared for.

The next morning was no better. I guess I must thank my lucky stars that I wasn’t hurling all over her place. She hadn’t said much, for that I was grateful. She let me sleep it off, made breakfast for me when I got up and just, you know, let me be.

Of course, little did I know that someday, I would have to return the favour when she had called me, totally distressed, to come pick her up from a god forsaken place. I had found her in tears with no one else in sight. I could only guess what had happened. She never told me.

She had hid under her covers and begged me to leave, but obviously, it didn’t seem right leaving her at that moment. So I had stayed. I had made us some dinner and settled down at the edge of her bed. Just like today.

She was looking at me curiously, why are you here?

Whoa! I thought I could come anytime!  I joked.

She raised one brow, Oh really?

I smiled as she did that. The raised eyebrow thing. It was almost as though she was trying to give me a dirty look but failing miserably at it. Most times I humoured her. My logic was, if she realized it was ineffective, she would just stop doing it.

I laughed, so how was your date?

She shrugged indifferently, He was okay.

I don’t know why, I felt like getting some details, meeting him again?

Probably, she responded.

Did he ask you? I persisted.

Not yet, but we did exchange numbers. And he sent me a text. Why the cross examination? She asked, a little puzzled at my interest.

Truth be told, I was pretty puzzled by it too.

Whatever you do, don’t text him okay? I advised.

She laughed, now YOU are giving me love advice? Oh my! Things must looking really bleak for me.

I knew she was joking, but I didn’t like the fact that she didn’t think I was capable of giving serious advice.

I laughed it off too. 

Photograph via sxc.hu