Chapter Twenty-Two
Emerson
The sun hadn’t even made an appearance when my eyes opened. My head was feeling a bit fuzzy from all the wine I’d consumed the night before. For a moment, I was certain I was dreaming. I had to blink a few times to focus in the darkness of the room, but sure enough, it wasn’t a dream. I was naked, lying next to Brooke.
I stared at her while she slept for a while. God, she was beautiful. Beautiful in a way that plastic girls like Melissa could never be. I ran a finger gently across her cheek, brushing her skin lightly with my fingertips. It was impossible to resist touching her, even though I didn't want to wake her. She stirred in her sleep and the slightest hint of a smile appeared on her lips.
I kissed them lightly, and she half-opened her eyes. “Emerson,” she sighed and smiled at me as she shifted a little, moving closer to snuggle up next to me.
I instinctively wrapped my arms around her. “Good morning,” I whispered as I placed a soft kiss on her forehead. “I've gotta go see my dad now. Go back to sleep.”
“What t-time is it?” she mumbled.
I glanced at the clock on her nightstand. “It's around five in the morning. Shh, go back to sleep,” I coaxed in a quiet tone, not wanting to disrupt her too much.
“Mmm, okay,” she whispered and dozed back off.
I gently disengaged myself from her embrace and reluctantly got out of bed. It wasn’t even remotely what I wanted to do. I wanted to stay. I wanted to have a repeat of last night, only without the influence of too much wine. But I also wanted to see my dad, so, I got dressed as quietly as possible and tiptoed out.
Once back in my apartment, I checked the day’s weather and then packed a backpack with some clothes and a few essentials before I set out on the six-hour ride up to my dad's place. I put my helmet on, thumbed the starter, and prepared to go. On the horizon, the first golden silvers of sunlight were appearing. It was a nice day for a ride and the weather was supposed to stay clear. I'd be off the interstate before most of the morning commuter traffic hit, and from there, it would be backwoods country roads without too many other vehicles.
A few hours later, I pulled into a gas station and parked my bike outside of a meager diner attached to the gas station. I dismounted and stretched my limbs. After riding for almost three hours straight, my wrists and back were a little stiff. An old man dressed in grimy dungarees and a tattered baseball cap stared at me as he chewed on a stalk of long grass. I was out in the sticks, alright. Mountains stretched to the verge of the horizon and old forests stood sentry at the edges of the road. It was picturesque, to say the least.
I reached into my pocket for my phone, intending to take some pictures of the scenery and send them to Brooke who would surely be awake and on her way to class. That's when my heart stopped.
My phone was gone.
In a panic, I patted all of my pockets thinking maybe I'd put it in a different one.
I hadn't. I always kept it in the left front pocket of my jeans.
And then I looked at the jeans I was wearing—the same pair from the previous night—and I cursed myself for my stupidity. These were the jeans that my phone always fell out of when I was on my bike. The design of the pockets meant the phone sat at an angle when I was on the motorcycle which, unfortunately for me, was the perfect slant for it to work its way out of the pocket while I was riding.
It had happened twice before but, luckily, I had noticed the phone falling out and been able to retrieve it. For that reason, I’d always tried to avoid wearing this particular pair of jeans when riding. However, in my haste and early morning grogginess, I had kept them on. And now my phone had fallen out, possibly a hundred miles back or something. It was gone for sure, probably smashed to bits under the wheels of cars and trucks.
I shook my head and cursed. Not that there was anything I could do about it. I'd just have to wait until I got back to talk to Brooke. I headed into the diner for some coffee and a snack, losing my phone just one more thing to add to my feelings of uncertainty about the twenty-four hours ahead of me. Despite my worries about Dad, Brooke was occupying my thoughts, as well. In fact, I found myself replaying the previous night over and over in my head as I drove the final three hours. Thankfully, when I arrived, hanging out with Dad kept my mind off of her for a bit.