Graffiti

Chapter Seven:

After last night, I'd gone home - well back to the hotel. Denis had decided to crash at Alex's place, which I thought was a very bad idea since Alex seemed to hate the guy, but there was no way I was bringing Denis back to the hotel. Not that I didn't trust him or anything... But there was only one bed...

Which brought me to now. I was going to ring my mum. It was a brave step and I had no idea why I was doing it. I wrapped the hotel dressing gown around me, it was fluffy, white and it gave me the courage to pick up my battered silver phone and punch in my home number. I still remembered it, and I hoped it hadn't changed.

Three rings. The static. "Hello?" A deep voice asked on the other side.

"Um... hi?" I squeaked back. "Is Jenny Rosewood there?" I asked. I heard the man shout 'Jen!' and then a woman's voice.

"Hello! Who is this?" Her voice was light and bubbly. Not like her at all. My mum was the woman who sat on the couch, staring at the white walls ignoring everyone. She just couldn't cope with Dad's death. Neither could I, which was partly why I had ran.

"Mum... it's me," I said. There was silence. Funny how silence is a natural answer sometimes.

"Luna?" She asked. No, Mum, your other daughter! I said sarcastically to myself. I had no siblings, so obviously it was me.

"That's the name you and Dad gave me!" I tried to keep it light and cheerful, but the mention of Dad had to bring some sort of sad response out of her, right?

Wrong.

"Where have you been? Tony and I have been worried sick!" She sounded pissed off, not sad. She'd completely dismissed Dad as if he wasn't important any more.

"Who the Hell is Tony?" I asked.

"Don't take that tone with me, young lady. And Tony is my husband, which you'd know if you hadn't have ran off like a child for the past ten months!" This wasn't my mum. It couldn't have been. Married? The last time I saw her, she was asleep on the couch, wearing the same clothes she'd been wearing a month previous. This was just... wrong.

"Now," She sounded like she'd gained control. "Are you coming home, or not?"

I opened my mouth and then closed it again. I was still flabbergasted over the whole married thing. I cleared my throat and thought about her question. "Not yet," I replied.

"Then don't contact me, unless you're about to come home please." Then she hung up. I threw my phone at the wall and screamed. What was wrong with everybody? I'd been gone ten months! Not ten years!! This was ridiculous. I needed to let off some steam.

Half an hour later, I was sweating. I'd ran all the way to Alex's cabin in a thick black coat and red jeans, my thick platform shoes really didn't help either. I banged on his door. "Alex, open the door!" I shouted. I heard a grumble and then the door slowly opened. I stepped inside, leaving the sun trailing behind me.

"Graffiti cans, gimme. Now," I panted. I was going to find a wall, maybe under a bridge and graffiti the f**k out of it. Maybe I'd do a a picture of my mum and caption it: 'b***h Who Can't Even Live Properly' or something like that. Anything. As long as it was rude and about her.

Alex wasn't wearing a top so you could see his thin pale chest, and some blue shorts. His green eyes looked tired and his hair looked like he'd just had s*x. He probably had. I was too bottled up with rage to care.

"Alex! Come back to bed!" A whiny voice shouted. Damn, I hated it when I was right.

"What the Hell do you want graffiti cans for?" Alex asked, ignoring the girl in his bed.

"Why the Hell do you think? I'm going to ice skate with them." I knew I was being a b***h, but I was hurt and Alex was pissing me off, why couldn't he just give me the cans already!

"Haha. Very funny. Now spill, if you want the cans, I want the reason why," he said. I gritted my teeth and made a grunting sort of sound. Forget this, I told myself. I knew where he kept the cans anyway, they were in a cupboard under the sink. I pushed past him, stomped through the living room, opened the smooth cabinet and grabbed the first three cans I could see.

I stood up, turned around and was about to take a step. Somebody was in the way. That somebody being Alex. He had me caged in. His hands were resting on the tabletops behind me. He leaned in closer, so close that I could feel his breaths on my cheek.

"Now," he said in a husky voice, "you're going to tell me why you're so adamant on getting these cans," he said. I froze, he was doing that thing that guys do. I wasn't going to get out of this, he was trying to turn me on and grab the cans from my hand, he'd probably kiss me and then say that he was only doing it to get the cans. Oh God, Oh God.

I refused to let that happen. I'd play him at his own game. "Or else what?" I said in a seductive voice - or at least attempted to - and leaned closer. Our lips were now inches apart.

He gulped. I smiled on the inside. Girls could do this too! "Stop messing and give me the cans, Luna," he said. I pouted and then I had a sudden flash of inspiration. I was going to kiss him, wait until his hands stopped encasing me and make a run for it.

Slowly, I leant forward and planted my lips on his. My body had been waiting for this. He lipped my bottom lip for entrance and slipped his tongue inside my mouth. His hands were still trapping me in. I gave it my all, I fought with him for dominance and pushed my body against his. Finally, he moved his hands to grab my waist, when he did, I broke the kiss. I laughed and said "Thanks for the cans! See you soon!" The I rushed past him towards the door.

Before I left, I looked back at him. He was touching his lips, and he looked happy? "By the way," I said, getting his attention. Alex looked at me expectantly. "You're a terrible kisser," I lied as I walked off.

I sat under some bridge, God knew where. It was, dark it smelled of piss and it was very cold. There was a little light at the end of the tunnel where I'd come in from, but nothing at the end where I was now. It had been blocked off, meaning that the tunnel wasn't in use, so I wouldn't get caught. I picked up the first can, it was red.

I wasn't a creative person at all. I sprayed a cross onto the wall, it was simple and easy. Underneath, I wrote the caption 'f*****g b***h ' Then, using the black can, I sprayed some lips onto the wall and wrote underneath 'Your lips tasted like you. Horrible and cheap'

It was satisfying, doing something illegal, I felt like a weight was lifted off of my chest. But now I was confused. Did I like Alex? If I didn't why the Hell did I write that? I was beginning to think that I did like Alex, but, hey, when I barged into his house this morning, he had a girl in his bed.

He didn't do commitments.

Neither do you, a voice whispered inside my head.