II

The ride home is a dreary one. It is raining, though not quite pouring, and for it being two o'clock in the morning, the road between your house and hers is suprisingly busy. Usually a ride like this is theraputic, but tonight it is cold. You long to be back in the girl's room, between her and the sheets. It's warm there. For a moment you consider turning back. “That would be creepy.” you say allowed, aware that no one in their cars can hear you speak. It would be just that easy though, you think. Turn around an pedal in the opposite direction. Reflecting on this fact a list begins in your head of similar instances:

Turning into oncoming traffic.
Hugging complete strangers.
Throwing yourself out a window.
Tearing pages out of a textbook.
Walking out in the middle of class.
Punching a friend in the neck (you chuckle aloud at the thought.)
Cutting in line. (any line)
Leaving and never coming home.

The final thought sicks in your mind, as it is not the first time the idea has crossed it. The only effort it would take is that to physically pack and leave. But as is the nature of each item on your list, the thought is quickly dismissed. You couldn't do that to your family, your friends, the girl. You suspect that they are the reason behind every occurrence such as this.

Upon arriving home, you pick up your bike, a simple, somehow glamorous machine of vibrant orange and cream, and drag it up the six steps to the back porch. A primitive structure, tacked to the back of the house by your father, a forty-something military man. Through the double doors (which connect the porch to the house) and up the stairs, you find yourself in your own room, debate whether to turn on the lights for a moment, decline, and continue to the sofa on the far side. A faint outline can be made out of the rooms furnishings, but even this seems unneccesary as it is so familiarly laid out. Much more so than the girl's room, you are again reminded of another place. This time a little more clear, but no more distinct. This deja vu is getting strange. Finally settled on the sofa, sleep takes hold and your familiar surroundings sink with you. You hardly ever sleep in your bed anymore.