Everything was a party for Bunny. Graffiti on a toilet wall was something to be rolled around on your tongue (not literally, of course) on the drunken stumble home; rain on the tarmac wasn’t something to ruin your shoes, it was the glitter from a disco ball.
It’s just…it’s just really worth thinking about, you know? Imagine if we only thought about the same things, all of us? Where would we be then?
And she’d lapse back into one of those silences that, with her, came off as pensive. Her perfectly smooth brow would furrow attractively and people would look at me, catch my eye as if to say God, she’s a real one, isn’t she? and I’d nod and give what I’d think was a genuine smile until I’d see the smile in their eyes die and know that it hadn’t been.
I’d tried for a while to mimic her ways, to be as profound as she was, but it came off as sullen. I had heavy features – dark eyebrows and a wide mouth like a smudge of crayon – where Bunny was all dandelions and wispy organic jumpers. Even the name, for God’s sake. But yeah, I’d tried it for a while with no success – whatever equation she was working from was a mystery to me.
A quiet voice from the tumble of blankets on the bed. I hadn’t realised she was still awake and I squinted in the half-light, trying to make out limbs amid the ropey sheets.
I sighed and freed my foot from underneath me, where it’d been tucked since I decided that numb from lack of blood was better than numb with cold. Crouching, I hobbled over to the bed, kicking aside shoes and assorted junk on the dusty floor. Something about a dark room, even one with a city outside the window, always makes you crouch.
I slipped under the duvet and tucked my knees back up to my chest. I could feel the space she occupied next to me. I thought about reaching out, just in the way a friend would, to stroke her arm or her pale hair.
I jammed my hands up under my arms. Yeah?
Is it better to be alone, do you think, than lonely with someone else?
Her shoulder, pale as the sheets, right there in front of me. She sighed and shifted a little when I didn’t answer. I waited for her to say something else but she didn’t.
I don’t know, Bun. Alone’s a pretty big thing.
When I woke, the sun had squeezed itself in between the tall buildings down the street. I kept my eyes closed, lying there with the light on my face and the red of my eyelids. I thought I could hear Bunny, breathing quietly, but when I opened a careful eye, the sheets were empty.