Chapter 5: Weekends Don’t Matter Anymore.
603 Words
Elena POV
The studio used to own Saturday mornings.
Early alarms. Coffee I barely tasted. The common soreness in my legs that was deserved. This would be misted up by nine, the floor would be warmed to my feet, and the voice of Coach Larkin would cut through the music like a razor.
My phone alarm now wakes me up at nine and I just shut it without opening my eyes.
The arm of Daniel is heavy over my waist keeping me down to the mattress. The sunlight peeps through the blinds depriving the room of all but pale gold. There is laughter somewhere out of doors. A car door slams. Normal weekend sounds.
No need of making you rise, Daniel says half-wooingly. “It’s the weekend.”
Then, for a moment I stare at the ceiling.
“I usually rehearse,” I say.
Like the word, us usually, he repeats. “But not today.”
My cell phone rings on the nightstand.
I don’t pick it up.
He moves up beside, hot and hard, and chucks a kiss on my shoulder to fall on. The choice is reached without controversy.
“Okay,” I say.
We do not do anything significant. We get coffee. We walk downtown. We waste time just like those who do not quantify it. Daniel speaks of the next season, about scouts, about how everything seems as though it were getting together.
I nod. I listen. I match my pace to his.
At a certain moment, my phone rings once again. I glance down out of habit.
Maya: You coming in? We’re running the full piece.
I write on as Daniel is preoccupied with a*****e window.
Me: Can’t. Busy.
The word appears to be odd on the screen.
Busy with what?
Lunch turns into afternoon. It is afternoon growing faintly into evening. By the time I look at the time it is too late, past six.
Did you not say you had something this day? Daniel questions like it has only occurred to him just now.
“I did,” I reply.
“Did?”
“Yeah.” I slip my phone into my pocket. “It’s fine.”
He nods, relieved. “Good. I simply hate feeling that I have to rob you.
The lines fall lightly--but they cling.
I don’t correct him.
The same is the case with Sunday. A message requesting me to see you. A pause where I could say no. And a yes, easy as it must be.
My legs become tight by Monday and this is not what I like. I have a feeling of a hook in my hip when I stretch. Coach Larkin is at once aware.
Yes, you missed yesterday, she says, without making an accusation. Observing.
“I’ll make it up,” I promise.
She studies me for a moment. Caution, be careful what you tell yourself.
At night, when I drop my bag in front of the door, my phone makes a new notification. An email.
The subject line is long. Official. Important.
I recognize the sender.
I have my thumb hanging above the screen.
Daniel’s name pops up over it.
Daniel: You free tonight?
I lock my phone.
Even when nobody inquired, I say, Yea.
I don’t open the email.
I remind myself that the weekends are irrelevant.
I tell myself I can catch up.
I remind myself that love should be used to fill the blank spaces- not to clash with the things that are important.
However, as I fall asleep that very night the unread message sits behind my closed eyes and waits.
- Writer
