1. Who Are You?

[POV: Adrian]

 -------

"Father!" As I sat on the bed, I opened my eyes to see sunlight streaming in through the window and striking the silver cabinet at the far end of the hardwood-floored room.

My shirt became wet as cold sweat soaked all over my body. I massaged my brow slowly, attempting to relax.

Why did that dream resurface? Dream about an incident from nearly sixteen years ago.

The girl beside me jerked up and sat up. She kissed me on the shoulder. My earlobe was greeted by warm breath. Her voice was spoiled as she mumbled, "What's the matter, honey? Why are you call your father?"

"There isn't anything, sweetie." I lifted her slim arms from my stomach, kissed her forehead gently, and climbed out of bed.

"Where are you going?" she inquired.

"I have to attend college."

I walked into the bathroom, wet my face with a thin beard that covered my chin, and checked to see if there were any new wounds on my body. Yes, there was a scratch on the back and a bite on the chest.

Why do women always ruin my tattoo when we're having a good time?

"Adrian, sweetheart." The spoiled voice compelled me to roll over onto the bed. "Even if you're pressed for time, you still have to take me home, okay?"

I cast a glance at the bathroom wall. The clock on the wall said it almost seven o'clock. "I'm sorry, honey, ycan you just took an uber? I'm late for school."

"But you said..." blah blah blah. She chirps without the use of a semicolon.

Is she convinced that she is unique? Of course, she was as beautiful as the Goddess Athena, but all the other girls who came here were on par with her.

I'm a jackass. I'll admit it. One night love is nothing more than a night sports game. She just a partner. If she expects more, she'll be disappointed.

I can't be harsh on women. They appear to me to be gentle creatures who must be protected. A figure to be cherished gently, to be satisfied at night.

I approached bed and took his bag, to make sure if she had enough money for a taxi. I believe $500 will get her all the way to New York if necessary.

"Adrian, please take me home! Did you hear what I said?" Her voice grew louder.

"Yes, honey, I heard everything." I sat on the edge of the bed, gently kissing her brow.

She held my hand to his cheek. "Come on, it's still seven o'clock in the morning, right?"

 "Sharone, I can't--"

"What? Who is Sharone?"

 "You're not Sharone?"

 She chuckled, brushing her hair back.  "You're kidding, right?"

I'm not joking. I had forgotten who she was. It's not her fault; it's just a habit of mine. After one night off, forgetting about the girl name.

Her laughter faded gradually. "Are you sure? Oh my God, you don't know who I am either?"

"Sorry--"

"Goddamn it!" She slapped me, then hit me blindly with ferocity.

I caught both of her wrists and tried to calm her down. "I was just kidding," 

I hugged her slowly, leading her to lean against my chest, and she was back cuddled hugging my waist.

"I'll call a taxi to take you home, okay?"

 "Can I come back tonight?"

 Damn it.  "Leave your number, I'll call you later… or the day after."

Suddenly the sound of the bell made us speechless. The sound was accompanied by a knock on the door and--

"Adrian, wake up, you slacker! Please open the door before I dismantle it!"

Finally 'she' came too.

 ****