Lauren: Inferior

I wake up to Alex gently pushing my hair out of my face.  I'm instantly annoyed, because I'm still mad.  I can't believe he has the nerve to wake me up.  I try to avoid how good his fingers feel on my scalp and glare up at him, quickly noticing that he looks sheepish.

"I know you're pissed at me," he says quickly.  "And I owe you a huge apology.  You were absolutely right last night.  I'm sorry."

I stay silent, processing this and wondering what caused his change of heart.  "I've been up for a little while, and I was talking to my mom," he explains, reading my mind.  "She couldn't stop comparing Carolyn to you, and telling me all the ways Carolyn is better than you in her eyes.  We just had it out, and I'm really sorry that I didn't hear you out last night.  I booked us a room for tonight at the hotel we were at, and we'll leave as soon as you're up.  I already packed up your stuff, but you might want to check the bathroom because I wasn't totally sure what was already here and what's yours.  All that stuff looks the same to me."

"Okay," I reply, still trying to wrap my brain around what's happening.  I just don't wake up quickly.

I struggle into a sitting position and swing my legs over the side of the bed, pausing to yawn and try to rub the sleep from my eyes.  I feel self-conscious changing in front of Alex since I'm still mad at him, so I pull some jeans and a shirt out of my suitcase and go into the bathroom.  I take my time getting dressed, brushing my teeth, and washing my face.  Even though Alex apologized and we're leaving, I'm still really confused and hurt at his flat out refusal to see my side of the issue last night.

I grab the last of my stuff from the bathroom and head back into the guest room.  I shove my stuff in my suitcase and zip it up, then stand it up.  Alex reaches for it but I say, "I've got it."  He frowns briefly, then nods, making the wise choice not to argue.  I follow him down the stairs and out the door.  His parents are nowhere to be found and he makes no attempt to find them to say goodbye.  I feel simultaneously vindicated and guilty.

I'm silent as I struggle to lift my suitcase into the trunk of the rental car.  "Do you want help?" Alex asks quietly.

"Yes, please," I say reluctantly.  I let go of the suitcase and leave it there for him to take care of, walking away so I don't have to watch him lift it into the truck.  I should probably consider working out every once in awhile.

We drive silently to the hotel and check in.  Luckily, our room is available already and we're able to go right to it instead of waiting until the 3pm check-in time.  When we get up to the room I decide to switch my jeans for sweatpants and climb into the bed.  I'm tired.  I didn't sleep well last night.

"You're still angry," Alex observes.

I consider ignoring him, but that's not going to get us anywhere.  "I'm not sure angry is the right word.  I'm feeling a lot of things.  I think we need to talk about it, but I need some time to sort everything out.  Can we talk in a little while?"  This is probably one of the most adult ways I've ever handled a conflict, and even Alex looks surprised by my calm tone.

"Absolutely," he replies immediately.  "How about you let me know when you're ready?"  I nodded.  "I'm going to go find some coffee and breakfast, then.  Can I bring you back something?"

"Sure," I reply.  "I mean, if you end up somewhere that has something I'd like.  You don't have to make a special trip or anything."

"Okay," he says, nodding.  He walks to the door of the hotel room and pauses, his hand on the knob.  He turns back and says, "Lauren?" I look up at him.  "I love you.  And I'm sorry."

"I know.  I love you too."  It comes out sounding a little flat, but I mean it.  I can tell he's pretty distraught by the situation and that's oddly a little comforting to me.  I don't want him to feel bad, but I do want him to know that he fucked up.  Because he did.

I manage to fall asleep for a little while, and I wake up when Alex quietly slips back into the room.  "Sorry," he says softly when I stir.

"It's fine," I reply, sitting up and yawning.  Alex sets a bag and a large plastic cup of iced coffee on the nightstand.  "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he says.  "I'm going to shower."  I nod and peek in the bag.  There's a heavenly-smelling breakfast sandwich plus a container of fruit salad.  I'm suddenly starving and I take out the sandwich and unwrap it.

I'm finished inhaling my breakfast by the time Alex emerges from the bathroom.  I haul myself out of bed and throw my garbage in the trash can, then sit cross-legged on the end of the bed.  "Can we talk now?" I ask Alex.  I'm nervous and I can't put my finger on why.  I wonder briefly if I'm overreacting or being dramatic, but I realize it doesn't matter.  My feelings are my feelings and Alex disrespected them last night.

"Yes," he replies immediately.  He sits in the desk chair and swivels it to face me, then waits.

"I was mad last night," I start hesitantly.  I'm not sure if I can accurately explain my feelings without getting worked up.  "I realize that I didn't approach the conversation well at all, and I'm sorry."  Apologizing is a little painful, but I know it's the right thing to do.

Alex nods and says, "You really caught me off guard.  I didn't respond well to you, and I'm sorry for that."

This is almost going too well, and it's making me even more nervous.  I twist a chunk of the sheet in my hands and look down before continuing.  "Your parents, especially your mom, have a really great way of making me feel inferior.  Your mom looks at me like I'm a piece of dead leaf that you tracked onto her perfect white carpet.  It seems like you just don't see it, and maybe I'm being dramatic, but I feel like shit around them.  I don't feel like that around many people, so I don't think it's just me."

I pause and look at him.  His face is neutral but his eyes look sad and worried.  He shrugs.  "You're right, I didn't see it.  I did think you were being dramatic until this morning.  And I don't know why I couldn't see it.  I didn't think my mom was capable of being so purposely awful to someone I love so much."

"What did she say?" I ask curiously.  "This morning, I mean."

Alex shakes his head and replies, "I'll tell you if you really want to know, but all it's going to do is upset you more, and I'd honestly prefer to not tell you."

"Okay, never mind," I say quickly.  I trust him and if he doesn't want to tell me, I know I don't want to know.  I take a deep breath and keep talking.  "I was really hurt with how you responded to me last night.  I know part of that is because I was hostile and attacking from the start, but you completely dismissed me and straight up told me you thought I was overreacting.  It was really confusing, especially with how quick you were to defend me the night before.  I've never really felt like you had my back with your parents, and it was nice that you stood up for me, even if it was just about where I slept.  But then..." I trail off and shrug.

Alex gets up and walks over to the bed, then sits next to me.  He tentatively reaches for my hand and I let him take it.  "Lauren, you're absolutely right.  I didn't have your back last night and it was shitty.  I was oblivious and I'm honestly surprised I didn't see what she was doing.  I was mad because I felt like you never gave my parents a chance.  They lived fairly close until they moved and you never wanted to go see them with me. That was hard for me.  My mom has always been a little stuck up, and I guess I was just used to it.  I don't think I realized how inferior you felt around them.  You never told me."

He has a point.  I haven't told him how I feel around his family.  I've told him how I feel about his family, but I've never really explained why.  Once again, my poor communication with him bites me in the ass.  Despite myself, a lump rises in my throat and I blink furiously.  I'm mad at myself for not communicating with him better, mad at his mom for being such a wretched snob, mad at myself for getting emotional right now, and relieved with how this conversation is going.

"I didn't," I reply.  "You're right.  That was stupid."  I drop my gaze again and pull on the sheet, furiously fighting the tears welling up in my eyes.

"Don't do that," Alex says suddenly, fiercely.  "My mom treated you like shit, and I'm not going to let you beat yourself up about any of this.  I wish you had told me, but you're telling me now and I'm grateful for that.  And even if you had told me, it wouldn't have changed what happened yesterday."  That's all it takes for my tears to spill over, and I suck in a shaky breath and try to keep myself from sobbing like an idiot.  Alex wraps his arms around me and I slump against him, pressing my face into his chest.  He strokes my hair as I try to get myself together.

Finally, I pull away and look up at him.  I wipe my face with my hands and say, "I was so mad at you last night.  I don't think I've ever been that mad at anyone before."

"I'm glad you're using the past tense," he replies with a small smile.  "I love you, Lauren."

"I love you too," I say, shutting my eyes as he cups his hand against my jaw.  I don't want to talk anymore and I let him guide my face towards his.  He kisses me softly, but I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him again, harder.

Alex kisses me for several seconds before he gently pulls away.  He pushes my hair behind my ear and says, "Are we okay?"  I nod, shutting my eyes and resting my face against his hand.  He shifts his hand, wrapping it around the back of my neck and leaning towards me again.  This time, he kisses me hungrily and I sigh in relief, tightening my arms around his neck.

Alex wraps his arms around me and lifts me onto his lap.  I straddle his legs and grip his shirt tightly as we kiss desperately.  I want to forget everything that's happened in the last 24 hours, and I finally start to let go of it as Alex moves his lips to my neck.  He pauses to pull off his shirt and mine, then he lays back, pulling me with him.  I stay on top of him and his hands run down my back, over my ass, down my legs, and back up to unhook my bra.

I roll to the side so I can shimmy out of my sweatpants, and he quickly removes his athletic shorts.  Alex rolls on top of me and pushes my legs apart.  He lowers his head between my legs and goes down on me until I come, then slides up my body and thrusts hard into me.  I cry out in pleasure and surprise at his quick entry, and he quiets me by pressing his lips against mine.  My legs wrap around his hips on their own and I grip his back tightly as he moves against me.

It doesn't take long for me to come again, and I squirm under him and moan against his shoulder.  It seems to set off his own orgasm, and I feel him tense, then shiver.  He groans and stops moving, breathing hard against my neck.  Neither of us move for a long time.  We just lay there, catching our breath and clutching each other.

Finally Alex rolls off of me, sprawling across the bed on his back.  I roll quickly onto my side, snuggling up against him.  He wraps one arm around my back and strokes my shoulder with his other hand, and I relax completely.  I'm starting to drift off when Alex says, "I hate fighting with you."

"I hate when you do something stupid enough to make me mad," I reply, my tone light.

Alex laughs and shakes his head.  "I know, I'm such a dick."

"You are," I agree, smiling.  I push myself up on my elbow and look down at him. "But I love you.  So stupidly much."

He grinned up at me.  "I love you too, Laur.  I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

I laughed, because it probably was.