Not in here, though.
Go back to your room, dude.
“Don’t have the energy,” I mutter.
“Huh?” Posey mumbles next to me, and when I glance over at her, she looks half asleep too.
Still.
We keep watching.
Sort of.
I’m not sure when I fall asleep or when Posey fell asleep, but the first thing I notice when I stir is:
The morning light is streaming and causing me to squeeze my eyes shut against it.
I’m hella comfortable but…
Not in my own bed?
I want to peel my eyes open just far enough to discern where the hell I’m at, but I’m too groggy and determined to fall back asleep, despite the sun telling me otherwise.
“Go away,” I grumble, meaning it.
“Let me live my life,” I croak. Where’s my damn blanket? Where’s the pillow, so I can bury my head beneath it.
Instinctively, I reach up to swipe the side of my mouth; sometimes I’m prone to drooling and want to make sure I’ve not done it on her stomach. Posey doesn’t seem to be awake yet, and I’m still drowsy, so I continue to lie here in this position, not wanting to wake her. No idea what time it is,nor do I care.
This is much more comfortable than the hammock…
Posey lets out a little snore. Barely audible but a snore nonetheless.
Where’s my eye mask? Why does it have to be so damn bright in here? She needs black-out curtains. I should order some on Amazon today…
I moan.
Turning to my side, I nuzzle, hand on warm, smooth skin. So warm. Like lying on a beach in nothing but swim trunks, relaxing without a care in the world.
And when was the last time I didn’t have a care in the world? Pfft. Never. For as long as I can remember, I’ve worked; worked on my plays, worked on being stronger, bigger, faster. Worked so I didn’t piss my father off, then my coaches, then team management.Working for someone else, it seems, other than myself.
Whoa,my subconscious says. Where did that thought come from?
Was I happy?
Is this what I wanted?
You’ll be happy once you’re back in Texas, where you can see your ma regularly and make sure she’s okay.
You hated New York, remember?
Yeah, but did I hate New York, or did I hate pushing myself?
What’s the difference?
I moan again in protest, wanting to shut my brain off, hand moving along the smooth surface it’s resting on, back and forth the smooth plane,back and forth…
Feels so good.