Free Halfway There by Aubrie Elliot Page A

Ellen wasn’t speaking to me. I leaned my head against the window and let the bright sunlight warm my face. I closed my eyes and drifted.
    â€œDo you want your own milkshake or do you want to share one?” I heard from a long distance, across a vast room where people lounged about on couches, sipping cocktails. They were laughing at a joke I hadn’t heard.
    â€œWhat? Uh, no; I’m good.” I sat up. I tried to keep a neutral face as Ellen ordered a large chocolate shake. I watched as she took it from the cashier’s hand. I watched her push in the straw. I watched as she sucked the thick, dark liquid up the straw and through her lips. My tongue tingled. I think my mouth actually watered. I reached over to take the frosty drink from her.
    â€œHey! Get your own. I asked if you wanted one.” Ellen yanked it back.
    â€œI didn’t want a whole one.”
    â€œWell, I want a whole one.”
    â€œI bet you could be convinced.” I leaned over and brushed my fingers up her thigh.
    â€œDon’t start something you’re not in the mood to finish,” she answered through a mouthful of sweet chocolate gooeyness.
    â€œJust give me a sip, would you?” I pleaded.
    She handed over the cup. It was cool, sweet, and satisfying. “Oh, that’s good,” I said and took another sip, deeper this time. I sucked the creamy, rich, icy liquid into my mouth and let it linger on my tongue. Yeah, it was good. With great reluctance, I handed the nectar back and let Ellen finish up.
    When we got home, I lumbered up the stairs. I hesitated as I reached the top. To the right was our bedroom, and to the left was the den where the couch and television were waiting. It wasn’t difficult to decide which way to turn. There was no way I was getting naked today, so sex was out of the question.
    I quickly gathered up the pillows from our bed and went into the den. Before you could say “what’s on?” I was comfortably ensconced atop my fluffypillows and beneath a warm comforter. I switched on the television. This had to be a slice of heaven.
    â€œI thought you had something else in mind,” Ellen said from the doorway.
    â€œOh, come on. Lie down here with me awhile. We’ll watch a little TV and relax.”
    â€œYou’re not in the mood, are you?”
    â€œWhy is it when I have a hangover, you think it’s an invitation to sex?”
    â€œMaybe it’s because you seemed interested when there was a milkshake involved.” Ellen pulled back the comforter and sat down at the opposite end of the couch. She pulled my feet onto her lap.
    â€œWhat do you want to watch?”
    â€œI don’t care.” I tossed the channel changer over to her.
    â€œNow I know you don’t feel well. You never let me have the channel changer.”
    â€œReally, I don’t care. I’m just going to lie here and relax.” I closed my eyes.
    I listened to Ellen flip through the channels. A talk show. A drama. A sitcom. The usuals for a Saturday. In a sad sort of way, it reminded me of when I was a little girl.
    When I was young, Saturday mornings were thebest. I got up early while everyone was still asleep and went into the kitchen. Mom always kept the cereal in the bottom cabinet. I looked over the selections and pulled out one of the boxes. As I recall, “Count Chocula” was my favorite.
    With breakfast in hand, I scurried into the living room for a morning filled with
Bugs Bunny, Scooby-Doo
, and
Speed Racer
, all my favorites. Whatever happened to all those shows, anyway? Back then, there was something to watch from about seven in the morning until noon. Of course, my mother would usually turn off the “trash” long before then.
    She never understood how I could sit in front of the television for hours at a time. To her, and therefore for me, good weather meant an afternoon riding my bike through the neighborhood and hanging out with other kids