But after meeting a guy named Brad, she changed her mind. He was not all that.
"Oh yeah, that was the time you thought you could dance hip hop," Megan pursed her lips with a nod, knowing what nonsense that was. All Caitlin became was Brad's accessory who shrugged a lot with a little pigeon-toed dance around him and put on her best cool smile. Honestly, Caitlin could barely keep up and their short romance ended with a quickie in her bed.
She drank a beer now as she sighed. It wasn't even the best sex. Why in the world did she give in to that?
Lesson learned, she nodded. Or she guessed. She belched and tried to remember why she liked America's Got Talent so much that was on the TV. She switched to ROKU soon enough and got on NETFLIX. It was true they weren't the highest tech girls in the world.
Megan was the worst. She hid in her room most of the time. She swore she cleaned but she was a cluttered mess. Caitlin tried to grit a smile, wondering if anyone would call about the room for rent. It was best not to get her true friend started. Oh, the stories Megan could tell about Caitlin's adventures in dating. Caitlin couldn't even remember them all.
She yawned as she clicked through shows that didn't interest her. Seriously, she needed to go to bed, but she wouldn't sleep. It was a restless time. She almost said a prayer hoping another stimulus check would come there way, but she wasn't counting on it. If she were truly a good girl, she would sit in bed with her mask on reading a book, but it might be sleazy so forget about being a good girl.
Suddenly, her eyes opened wide. She felt a lump in her throat, irritation of some kind. Caitlin wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand.
COVID 19, she thought. She finished her beer and cracked open another one. It was generic. Maybe it was time to pull out her pint of vodka from under her bed.
About a week ago when her Ritz cracker fell on the floor with a small square of cheddar, Caitlin picked it up and ate it without thinking. Her sneakers had been right where it fell. What if? What if she'd stepped into something ..and...
Caitlin wanted to go vomit when it happened. She wanted to vomit now but didn't let herself. She nursed the beer. It was as if she truly wanted bad things to happen to her. Why was she like this? Why?
She hadn't even gotten out of her stinky sneakers and found her slippers (which were deep under her bed.) She couldn't even make herself go take a hot bath. Her shoulders were tired from working at the drive-through at Scooters. It was only three afternoons a week.
Caitlin leaned back in the old oversized chair and put her feet on the coffee table. Maybe she'd take a little nap before bed. Of course, it was a little after nine. Not quite time for the ten o'clock news.
Megan's phone chimed. It just kept going and going.
"What are you doing?" When she looked back at the dining table, Megan wasn't there so Caitlin raced to the phone, but she missed the call.
A TEXT flashed on Megan's phone. Somebody named Cori was asking about the room.
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