A Prison Break Ch. 02

I looked at the clock. 8:26AM. I felt my anxiety rise, maybe it was plain fear down to my very core. It was time to start facing reality. I got up, got the bottles of ibuprofen and vitamins. I took two pills out of each bottle and put them on a saucer. I got a clean glass off the paper towel, put ice in it and filled it at the faucet. I'd leave it all on the bedside table if Lana was still asleep.

My heart was beating faster than normal and my gut was knotted as I approached my bedroom. I peered inside. Lana had moved again, but was still facing away from the door. The sheet was up to her shoulder. As I quietly stepped inside I thought I saw her leg move a little. I set the ice water and small plate of pills on the bedside table. As I picked up the glasses left from last night, I noticed her shoulder. She was wearing the mens tank shirt. I was sure she didn't have it on earlier. I stood straight and gazed at her.

I whispered, "Lana? You awake?" She twitched slightly. I waited for a response. After ten seconds I started to turn.

"I'm... not feeling too good."

I spoke softly, "Hangover?"

"I... I guess. Do... do you want me out of here?"

What I wanted was to erase the past twenty-four hours. "I... no... stay, but... I brought you some ice water, and some vitamin pills and a couple ibuprofen. Why don't you take 'em now." She didn't move. I still hadn't seen her face.

"I... I don' wanna."

I exhaled softly. "I think you'll feel better if you do."

"I... I'll take 'em later."

"Do you want to sleep more."

"Um... yeah."

"Ahh... do you want some... orange juice now?"

"Um... no... um... later."

"Okay. I'll... ah... let you sleep."

I waited a moment to see if she'd say anything more, possibly 'thanks,' but she stayed mute. I walked out to the hall, took a couple steps away from the door, stopped and leaned against the wall. I listened for crying, a cough, a muttered swear word, I don't know why I was listening. I heard the glass clink against the rim of the plate. A few seconds later the plate slid on the table. Another period of silence then the glass setting down again. I frowned. She couldn't even tell me the truth about whether she was thirsty or not, was she going to tell the truth about anything? I remembered what I had said to Barb a few weeks ago: I don't trust her.

I felt exhausted. I wished I would have slept longer. I folded my arms across my chest, holding the empty glasses with my fingers stuck inside, bowed my head and closed my eyes. I silently began chastising myself all over again.

"Oh!"

I flinched, nearly jumped. I opened my eyes, turned my head and pushed off the wall. Lana was standing in the hall less than two feet from me. Her puffy, sleepy eyes were wide and her mouth was agape. Her hands went to the hem of the tank shirt. She pulled it down a little, then one hand held the hem as her other rose to her shoulder, her arm covering most of her little tits.

"I... uh... thought you were going to sleep longer." She looked fourteen to me again, a thoroughly embarrassed fourteen. My guilt rose yet again.

"I... I-I needed to... um... go to the bathroom."

"There's the master bath." I figured the john was filthy as hell. I knew she was lying.

"I... I meant I... I was... couldn't sleep, so... so I was going to take a shower."

"Feeling better then?"

"Um... no, not really."

"Did you take the pills?"

"Uh-huh." She pulled her shirt down a bit more, then looked down to check the neckline at her tits.

"Oh... I guess I should mention, I didn't want to wake you this morning, so I showered in the hall bath."

She looked at my face. "You... you used my bathroom?"

I almost laughed at her 'my.' "Yeah."

"Oh... um... ah... okay." She looked really scared again. "Are... you going into your room?"

"No."

"Where... where are you going?"

I genuinely smiled for the first time since waking, not a big smile, as I told her the truth, "I don't know where I'm going." It seemed like my smile made her even more nervous or scared. I glanced at her hand at the hem of her shirt. She was holding it out knowing it would make it less see through.

"Would you go somewh.... um... don't you... don't you wanna go into your bedroom?"

For a moment I wondered who the hell was wearing Lana's tank shirt. Where the hell was the tough little bitch I had known. "What are you doing after your shower?"

"Huh?"

"Are you going somewhere... you know, out after your shower?"

"I... I-I-I don't know... um... I... I don't think so."

"Well... obviously, we... ahh... need to talk about... about last night." I got angry at myself for the verbal hesitance.

"I... I thought you'd say that." Her breathing turned shallow and quick.

"So... take your shower, then we'll talk. Okay?"

"I... I guess so."

I gave her a limp smile. "Good."

"I... I'm gonna take my shower." She really seemed very nervous.

I nodded. "Okay."

She bit her lower lip and stepped around me. As she passed, her hand lowered from her shoulder. Both hands gripped the hem of the tank shirt, holding it down a little but also pulling it back so it didn't lay on her apple ass. My gut knotted with fear again. I wondered if she was hurt, bleeding. I tried to remember if I had fucked her ass. I remembered thumbing her asshole, but not sticking my dick in it. Dammit! I turned and went into my room. I checked the top sheet for blood stains. None. I yanked it off the bed and looked at the bottom sheet. Only cum stains. I relaxed a little.

I stripped the bed. I stepped over to the corner of the room by Barb's dresser. There was a gap between the end of it and the corner of the room. That's where I tossed my dirty clothes. I glanced at the dresser top. I saw the fifty dollar bill. I couldn't believe she forgot her money. I picked out the white things from the corner pile, added it to the sheet pile, grabbed the two glasses and headed to the mud room, figuring I might as well do a load. Shit. I'd have to wait until Lana got out of the shower. It might screw up her hot water, the water heater was old, the replenish time on it sucked.

I put the glasses in the sink, then went into the mud room, put liquid detergent in the washer and loaded it. I opened the fridge and looked inside. I really wanted that orange juice. I grabbed a soda, sat at the table and took a sip. I lit a smoke, then tried to relax and figure out how to start the conversation with Lana. Even if I had been totally blitzed last night, which I hated to admit I wasn't, at least not at the start; how in hell could I possibly have thought fucking Lana would be okay to do? Jeezuz.

Maybe... maybe we could talk about it like adults.

It was an hour and a half before I saw Lana slowly walking towards the kitchen. The girl was still surprising me. It was a warm June day, not really hot, but she was wearing a long sleeve off-white cotton jersey shirt, and those kind of running pants that had replaced most everyone's sweat pants, the ones with the single stripe on the outside of the legs. They were pink with a white stripe. I had never seen her wear them. Her hair looked damp and she had it in a pony tail. I couldn't recall if it had ever been in a pony tail. Something wasn't right. Something happened last night that I can't remember. She was scared. Maybe scared to be with me now? That's the only reason I could come up with for the way she acted when wearing her tank shirt earlier, and now she's fully covered up, well, she was barefoot. She flaunted her hot, little bod for a week, and now she was trying to cover it up? What the hell was going on?

I looked at her hand. She had a tube of toothpaste and a toothbrush. I realized they were mine. "Oh... ah... thanks for bringing that."

"You... you left it in my bathroom." Lana put the things on the table near me then sat at the far end of the table. She pulled her legs up to the seat, pretzeling them.

I guess it really was her bathroom. "I... I didn't know you did all that work, the decorating in there. It looks good."

"Some of that stuff I um... picked up during the last town junk pick up week. The... the wire shelf thing, and... the pictures, and... that wicker stuff."

I really wanted to ask her about that hidden photo in the linen closet. "Looks good."

"Um... um... thanks."

I took a slow breath. "Ahh... I guess we should talk about last night."

"Um... yeah." She bit her lower lip.

"Firstly, I... I hope I wasn't too rough with you, or... or hurt you in any way. I... I was pretty drunk."

"I'm... I'm a little sore, but... I... no, you... I guess you weren't too rough."

I saw her eyes tear a little. It made my gut knot tighter. "Lana... ahh... obviously, last night... ahh... shouldn't have happened. I think we both know it was a mistake." I held my breath.

She responded immediately. "I knew you'd say that." Her arms folded over her chest. I realized she was wearing a bra by the depressions on her shoulders. It seemed her eyes teared more.

I hadn't expected that response from her. "Ahh... maybe... ahh... Do you want to talk first?"

"No, not really."

It was the shit attitude again. I suddenly didn't feel like taking all the blame. I told myself to keep my cool. "Why are you angry?"

"Am I angry?"

I again told myself to keep it level. "I don't know if you are, but I'm getting the impression you are. I hope you remember, it was actually your idea last night." I instantly knew I shouldn't have said that. I quickly added, "But... that doesn't mean I have no responsibility about it." I took a breath. "So, are you angry about something?"

"I don't know. I guess not. I..." She exhaled. "You.... you..." She pursed her lips and her eyes teared a little more.

"What? Tell me, or-or ask me if it's a question. What is it?"

"Do... do you... do you remember what... what we talked about in bed before... before we went to sleep?"

My brow pinched. "What we talked about?"

"Yeah. What we talked about."

My forehead was still tight. "I was pretty drunk, and really tired by then, Lana. Why... why don't you refresh my memory."

Lana turned her head, pretending to look out the kitchen window over the sink. "I knew you'd say you were too drunk to remember." Her jaw clenched for a moment.

I felt anger start to simmer and I told myself to relax again. "Well, it happens to be the truth, and I find it a little amazing that you seem to remember it all so clearly, since we were both drinking pretty heavily, in fact I seem to recall we were matching drink for drink." She had to have been drunker than me with that little body. I saw her bite half of her lower lip.

She didn't look at me. "I... I guess I had a... a little less than you."

"Wha' d' ya mean?"

"One of my drinks was... wasn't whiskey, it was iced tea."

I couldn't stop the grin but kept it down to a small smile. She really had been acting like a freakin' whore last night!

There was an angry edge to her voice, "Are you laughing at me?"

"No, just wishing I would have joined you on that ice tea. I... I'd probably not feel so lousy today."

"You drink t..." She bit her lip again for a moment then looked at the sink window once more.

"I drink too much? Yeah, I do." She didn't say anything to that. "So... you wanna tell me what we talked about before I fell asleep."

"I don't know."

"You don't know if you want to talk about it? Or, you can't remember now what we talked about?"

"Yeah."

I got angry for a moment, then I just found it funny. In my past I had answered double questions with that same response. I said hell with it, and let a brief chuckle escape my mouth. "That was pretty funny."

"I'm so glad you liked it." The edge was still there.

I decided not to get pissed off. I pushed my chair back. "Do you want that orange juice now?"

"I don't know. Yeah... yeah, I guess." She started to get up.

"I got it." I made up a glass of ice and poured the last of the OJ in it. I set it in front of her.

"Aren't you having any?"

"Isn't any more. I was saving that for you. I'll have a soda."

"Do you want this?"

I got a Coke from the fridge. "No, you drink it." I sat down and popped the can, took a sip, then lit a cigarette. We stayed silent for a couple minutes. Lana broke it.

"You... you like really don't remember what we talked about at... at the end?"

"I really don't. Sorry. You wanna tell me what it was?"

"I... I don't think it matters now. You... you already said it was a mistake."

"Don't you think it was a mistake?" I saw her eyes tear up again. My brow pinched. What the fuck was going on? What the hell was I missing here?

"I... I guess I should."

"What was the... Tell me what we talked about at the end."

"I... I don't know. Maybe... maybe I can't remember now."

I wondered how in hell I had hoped a short while ago that she and I might be able to be at least somewhat adult about it all. I told myself not to lose my cool. I drew in a slow breath and exhaled it just as slowly. "I'd like to ask you something which is a little off the subject at hand. Is that all right?"

"I don't know, is it?"

My teeth clenched for a moment, then I realized, that's what she now wanted. She wanted to piss me off. I waited to cool down before I spoke softly, "You know for... hell, nearly three years now, if you count the time I was dating Barb, I have been wondering why the hell you and I can't at least be civil with one another if not friends. That answer you just gave me, that tone you just gave me? I didn't deserve that. At times you seem to want to be treated like an adult, then you do shit like that answer. I'm trying to talk to you seriously here, because... because we... we both did something serious last night, serious... on a lot of levels. So, do you want me to treat you like some ornery little girl, or do you want to be treated as a young woman. It's your choice." I could see that had her a little stumped.

"Why... why do we have to talk about any of it?"

"I just told you why. Last night serious things happened. And obviously, we need to clarify everything. You're giving me the impression we talked about something important and serious last night at the end, which I do not remember. I... I want us both on the same page here. I don't want either of us assuming that the other remembers saying this or that or agreeing to this or that, when that person may not recall any of it. So... that's why." I took a sip of soda, amazed how well it seemed I was speaking. "So... what was it we talked about at the end?"

"You... you just wanna know if I'm going to tell anyone, that's all you really wanna know."

"No, it's not, but since you brought it up, are you going to keep it all confidential, between just you and me?" I held my breath.

She spit her words out, "I know what confidential means."

My ire rose again. "Yeah, I assumed you did, but you know, things can be confidential between more than two people."

Her jaw clenched and her eyes glared. She stayed silent for ten seconds, then said, "I won't tell anyone. Happy now? I must have told you that a hundred times last night."

I wasn't happy but I was a little relieved. I also knew she'd have it hanging over me for the rest of my fucking life. "No, I wouldn't call it happy. I'm glad I can trust you about it. I won't tell anyone either."

"I didn't think you would."

"I know you're angry at me, and maybe what I'm about to say will make you even more pissed, but I have to say it and I want you to listen. Okay?"

"What?"

"Last night was wrong for a l... for a few reasons. I want you to know that... ah..." I took a breath. I didn't want to say it but I had to.

"What?"

"I... I hope you know that... that making money that way is wrong, and I hope to god you never do it again. I..."

Lana broke in with a shout, "Keep your stupid money!" Her face scrinched for a moment, then she quickly wiped her eyes and calmed her face, looking down at the edge of the table.

"You're... you're too beautiful and... and you have your entire future ahead of you, so... so I... I had to say that about... about selling yourself."

"Yeah, I'm SO beautiful, with... with such a great future ahead of me."

I exhaled. "Lana, it... it can be, but... but not if your attitude doesn't change. I think... I think I'm a good example of how you can screw up your future. From what I know, you... you haven't made the kind of mistakes that... that I made by the time I was your age. You've got that going for you. I was angry like you too, and... and I still have a hard time dealing with my anger. Do... do well in college this fall. That's when things get... start to get important and serious."

"That's not really college. It's a community college."

For some reason I asked, "Did you try for grants or student loans for other schools? Universities?" Maybe I was hoping she'd somehow be able to go off to college somewhere far away. If she went away, it would somewhat solve one of my problems.

"Not... not really."

"Why?"

"Because... because I... I didn't know if I wanted to go."

"Did you apply for admission at any college or university?"

"Maybe."

"Where? Which ones?"

She thought for a few seconds, probably about whether or not to answer me. "Champagne and DeKalb."

I was surprised to say the least. "Did you get accepted at either?" I quickly added, "At both?"

"Yeah."

"Which?"

"Both."

I was dumbfounded. "Why didn't you say anything about it?"

"What difference would it have made after her accident? And.... and you told me there wasn't any money, and... and I figured there wasn't any anyway. At least not... not enough for either of those schools. Not that kind of money."

"Why in hell didn't you tell us, tell me?"

She looked at the window. "It doesn't matter."

The conversation was not going at all the way I had anticipated. Why the hell didn't she at least tell Barb about it?! "Did you write the admissions offices at both those schools and ask for a... at least a year extention on enrollment?" I had done that for grad school. I had been dumped by a girl a couple months before I was supposed to start and was getting drunk a lot. I didn't have my shit together enough to begin a masters program. I got the extension, started a year later, then dropped out right before finals week that first semester.

"No. I don't know. What... what is that?"

"It means you might be able to keep your enrollment status for a year. You can start next year, as... as a sophomore, or a second semester freshman, depending on what courses they accept from your community college work. You should write them as soon as possible, tell them... tell them money or something is a big problem right now. Maybe... maybe we can work something out, maybe... you can get some grant or loans. We'll look into it. You... you should have told Barb about this, and... and me too." For a moment I wondered if I really cared or if I was just afraid she'd tell Barb everything about last night. But, why the hell hadn't she told Barb about this college shit?

"I knew there wasn't enough money. What difference would it have made?"

"You should have told me and... and like I said, maybe we can work something out. Write those letters as soon as possible. Tomorrow."

"Maybe... maybe I will. Maybe I won't. I don't know."

I couldn't remember what the rest of what I was going to say about last night was. Why the hell didn't she tell me about any of this? Why the hell didn't I ask her? Barb always told me she was the only parent, that's why. No, that's not why. I'm just in my own fucking little world, that's why I didn't ask, but... would Lana have told me? No, I didn't think she would have even if I had asked. I would never have guessed she had even applied. Hell, I was surprised she got her high school diploma!