SPENDING A WEEK WITH ANNA

SPENDING A WEEK WITH ANNA

It is not a typical week because this is the week that I get Anna to myself. My whole family is in Dubai for the last week of summer, but I choose not to go. Well, the choice is not really the word, rather circumstance. My passport has several issues that will take some time to fix. All for one and one for all, you would think. Everyone decides to go anyway while I am left home alone.

“Will you be fine, or shall I stay home with you?” mom still treats me like a child sometimes.

“He is a man. He can look after himself.”

I see them off at the airport, but I have a few reservations about staying home alone. It might be a bit too lonely. The feeling does not last too long. My hour-long phone call to Anna fixes that as she agrees to keep me company until everyone is back.

I mostly wake up fully clothed, but I can feel the coldness on my side of the bed. The sun shines through the blinds as the birds all chirp as if intentionally wanting to ruin my fantastic dream. I turn quickly to my left and see her there. She sleeps peacefully. A bit too peacefully if you ask me, like a log even. I gaze fondly at her as her chest goes up and down rhythmically, and her tits ever so stagnant. Yes, Anna sleeps naked mostly. It is one of the things I find most bizarre about her. A gentle breeze now penetrates the room, and I see her shiver and grab a section of the covers. I look under the covers and realize it was her feet. I am used to her cold feet and how recklessly she sleeps, her feet on my back.

The clock reads eleven a.m. she looks peaceful, and I do not want to disturb her.

“Anna, Anna. Wake up. We shall be late for that huge sale at the mall.” Anna loves to shop. She convinces me to accompany her to the mall because she needs my strong arms to carry her bags.

“M…,” she shrugs and turns her head.

“We are going to be late; it is already past ten a.m.”

“What! You should have woken me up earlier.”

She often barks at me for either waking her up too early or too late. I am used to it. Teenage love is very delicate. Despite being home alone this week, we often wake up early. Her mom is rather calm about the whole dating thing, but my parents are not. We sneak around while at my house and ‘study’ a lot.

“How do you want your eggs?” Anna is a great cook. I am learning that she does not like toast that much, and she likes her eggs sunny side up.

“How about we try it scrambled today.” I like how she is at my beck and call. She is attentive to what I like and always asks for my opinion. Well, unless she is mad, like today.

“Make it yourself.”

She is not the frugal type when it comes to sex. She always lets me know what and how she wants it. The sex is amazing in case I did not already mention it. It is a mix of exploring a new body part every day and trying something we watched together previously. It is like heaven on earth, literally.

“Pass me the toothpaste loser,” Anna yells. Her hair smells like vanilla because she uses that shampoo I got her last summer. It takes me a whole minute to get ready while she takes a minimum of one hour. It does piss me off that I am always waiting on her. That is what love does to you; it makes you wait on your girlfriend for long hours while she does her ‘minimal’ makeup.

“The brush, lipstick, and don’t forget my hair tie.” Her routine is the same every day.

“Can we go now?” Patience has never been my strength.

“Use the highway; it should get us there faster.”

I start my sedan. It coughs and grunts nothing out of the ordinary. Our rides are always quiet when she wakes up on the wrong side of the bed. Her phone screen lights up, and she quickly grabs it from the dashboard. She lights up and manages a smile on seeing what I assume is a text message.

“Anyone, I know?” I ask.

“No.”

She receives text messages from a particular person that changes her mood lately. I want to ask if she is seeing someone else, but I refrain. I blast the radio with her favorite song. I think it will amuse her, but she is unbothered.

“Is something the matter? Have I done something wrong?” She does not respond, and this makes me angrier.

“Would you rather he takes you to the mall,” I press.

“Anna, are you going to ignore me?”

Girls are so hard to read. My car makes a better companion than Anna in many ways. We argue so much of late. It is mostly my fault because I never want to go on drives full of silence. Her parents are that way these days. They are divorced and rarely talk. Love is so complicated. Maybe we are not in love. We are in like, and it is slowly fizzling out.

“Can we just get through today without you forcing irrelevant conversations down my throat?” Anna shouts as she gets out of the car barely before I parallel park.