Page 22 of Pity Play

Once my heart rate slows down from the shock of finding Luke in bed with me, I turn out the light and go back to sleep. Happily, I don’t remember those dreams.

The next thing I know, there’s sunlight peeking through the blinds. It’s directly in my eyes so I turn on my other side. Looking at my phone I discover it’s eight o’clock. That’s when, slowly but surely, memories creep back into my consciousness. Holy crow, Luke and I were in bed together!

Mortification washes over me and heats up my face to what feels like a bad sunburn. Luke saw me sleeping in my old room which made him think my parents’ room was his. This is bad. Really bad. The guy would have to be stupid not to remember my stalker-like ways from my early teen years. He probably thought I did this on purpose. Yet I was the first one in bed—at least I think I was— so this is really his fault. That realization makes me feel a lot better.

Getting out of bed, I see that I’m still in the clothes I wore last night. The stabbing pain in my temples helps me to discern that I had too much to drink.

Going into the bathroom, I take off my clothes and get into a hot shower. The pelting water on my head helps and hurts at the same time. While lathering my hair with my favorite apple scented shampoo, I try to put all the pieces of last night together.

I think about Allie and me eating at Pop’s. I recall her telling me about her husband which causes my fists to clench. She is so much better without him. I recollect losing my appetite, and then I remember the lemon drops.That’swhy my head hurts so badly.

I try to figure out how I got home, but the only thing that comes to mind is the dream I had about Luke and me going to prom together. I make a mental note to call Allie later to see if she can fill in the gaps for me.

After getting out of the shower, I dry off before putting on a comfy pair of sweats and a hoodie. I have a choice to make. I caneither go downstairs and act like nothing happened last night, or I can stay up here until I’m sure Luke has left for the day.

Walking to the bedroom door, I open it while staying hidden behind it. Then I listen for any sounds coming from my room. There’s nothing, so I tiptoe down the hall. I discover my room is empty, so Luke must already be downstairs. Exhaling loudly in relief, I continue to stare at my bed. It’s rumpled like it’s been slept in, but the covers are pulled up as though an attempt has been made to make it.

Luke Phillips slept in my bed last night. As that image soaks into my consciousness, I feel teenage giddiness flow through me.

I hear a creaking noise behind me and immediately realize my mistake. Luke isn’t in my room because he’s in the bathroom across the hall. I turn to run back to my parents’ room, but something in my brain decides that it’s too far away, so I wind up dashing into my own room. I make a run for the closet and manage to cross the threshold in the nick of time.

From my secret vantage point, I watch Luke as he walks into the room. He’s only wearing a towel. Holy heck! What do I do now? I can’t stand here and watch him undress,can I?Well, maybe just for a second. I chastise myself not to act like a perve-o, but I take too long. Luke drops his towel which causes me to gasp, loudly.

“Lorelai?” I hear him call out. He doesn’t sound pleased.

He knows I’m here. All he has to do is walk over for confirmation. “Oh, hey, Luke …” I sound like an idiot. “I just came in here to get a … a … a sweater.”

He rustles around for a moment before I see his shadow creep toward the door frame. I turn to face my sweater collection, so I don’t have to make eye contact with him. “Did you find one?” Oh yeah, he’s mad.

Grabbing the first sweater I see, I take it off the stack and pull it over my head. Oh dear, it’s tight so I know it’s an old one. But the only way out of this situation is to keep going with the lie. Turning around, I force a smile to my face, and blurt out, “Good,you put some pants on.” Great, now he knows I saw his towel fall off. Why can’t I keep my mouth shut around him?

Embarrassment blooms across Luke’s cheeks. “Lorelai, I think we need to talk.”

Dear God, no! We can never speak of this, ever. “No need,” I tell him. “I’ll just move more of my clothes over to my parents’ room, so this never happens again. But I’ll do it later so you can keep getting ready.”

I try to scurry past him, but he gently grabs my arm to stop me. “Thisis the sweater you came in here to get?”

“Yes, it is,” I tell him emphatically. “It’s my favorite.” Belatedly, I look down and see that I’m wearing Mickey Mouse’s face embroidered across a purple acrylic garment that’s so small it’s practically cropped. If that’s not bad enough, there’s a big hole in one of the armpits and a snag running through Mickey’s face.

There’s nothing I can do but brazen this out, so I disengage from Luke’s hand and announce, “Mickey Mouse is my ideal man.” Then I make a run for it.

CHAPTER TWELVE

LUKE

I can’t stay here with Lorelai any longer. It’s obvious she still has feelings for me and that’s going to make things very uncomfortable. I finish getting dressed before running my fingers through my damp hair to finger comb it. Then I head downstairs to the kitchen to confront my hostess.

Lorelai is standing in front of the refrigerator busily pulling things out. She’s humming to herself, so I clear my throat to let her know she’s not alone. Peeking out from behind the refrigerator door, she sees me and shrieks. “Luke! Hey there! Hi!”

As she crosses the room and drops the load she’s carrying onto the counter, I tell her, “We need to talk.”

“Why?” She’s so flustered, I feel bad for her.

“I think I should find somewhere else to stay.” The expression on her face makes me wish I didn’t say that, but keeping things as they are is not an option.

“Look, Luke, I’m sorry about this morning. I forgot a few things in my room and when I saw you weren’t there, I figured it was as good a time as ever to get them.”

Indicating the ridiculous sweater she’s wearing, I ask, “Things like your favorite sweater?”

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