It was the middle of a most sluggish summer. The weekend was upon us, and with it, record highs. I wanted to lie in bed all day and listen to the comforting whir of the air conditioner. It was too hot to do much else - but plans had already been made.

     The front door slammed shut, and my mind jerked away from the comfort of cold air. A moment later the bedroom door was kicked open.

     "You're still in bed?" Carl said, his dark eyebrows furrowed in a scowl. It was no use arguing with him, it would just start a fight anyway.

     "Did you get me a coffee?" I asked as I slowly rolled out of bed.

     "No, there wasn't enough money." He flipped a cigarette into his mouth.

     "Did you go to the ATM?"

     "It only gave me $20. I used it to put gas in the car."

     "Ugh!" He was surprisingly stupid sometimes. There was more than enough money in my account and the ATM would've given him more than $20.  Maybe he confused the "$20 limit" with the $20 increments.

     "Where's Steve?" I asked.  I had only heard Carl come into the apartment.

     "Why?  You don't need him to get dressed."

     "He's not smoking in my car, is he?"

     "Just get dressed and stop fuckin' worryin' about Steve. God, it's like you don't want him to leave.  You two messin' 'round or somethin'?"

     I rolled my eyes and started digging through my dresser for clothes.

     "You is, ain't cha?"

     "No, dear. I love you. I only want to be with you. I don't care about Steve. I was just askin'."

     "Well, stop askin'. Yer pissin' me off."

     I finished getting dressed under his hard gaze.

     "We're stopping at Mickey D's so I can get coffee," I told him.

     "Whatever. I'm driving."

     I hated when he drove. He didn't have a license and it made me nervous. If I told him "no", he'd pick a fight and we'd never be on our way.

     We walked to the car and just as I thought, Steve was in the passenger seat puffing on a cigarette. The smoke trickled out of the open sunroof as if it were a chimney.

     "Sit behind me," Carl instructed Steve. "She's gittin' in the front." Steve obeyed like a dog to his master.

     When we were all settled, Carl pulled out the parking lot and narrowly missed at truck that was pulling in. I grumbled under my breath in an effort not to make a comment about it. If Carl was a bad driver at the best of times, he was even worse when he was angry.

     He pulled into the McDonald's drive-thru with a huff, then declared the was getting a coffee, too.

     "Whaddya want?" he asked me.

     "Medium with three creams and four sugars."

     He turned to the screen and yelled, "Medium coffee, three creams, three sugars."

     "Four sugars."

     "Four sugars. Fuck, make up your mind. And a large coffee with eight sugars."

     He paid for the drinks with my debit card he still had.

     "Can I have my card and the receipt, please," I asked him.

     He gave me a snide glare then flicked the card at me. It bounced off the passenger door and landed at my feet.

     "Dude, yer mean," Steve muttered from the back seat.

     "She wanted the stupid fuckin' card."

     I quietly put the card away.

     With coffee in hand, we started our four hour trip to Steve's house. I made sure I kept my nose in the book I brought with me - and only looked up to tell Carl when to turn on a different road.

     Carl and Steve chatted back and forth about how Steve should visit again. I wanted to tell him that it wouldn't be a good idea. During the two weeks Steve had stayed with us, I was virtually confined to the bedroom. Carl didn't like me around Steve. I was his fiancé and I shouldn't even look at other guys.

     Half way through our trip, Steve announced he had to "take a leak." I told Carl I had to use the bathroom as well.

     He pulled into a rest area and let Steve out.

     "You wait 'til he gets back," he told me.

     This got on my nerves. I had to pee. Who cared if Steve and I went at the same time. There were separate bathrooms. Carl pulled my keys out of the ignition, and I forced myself to wait. I had an image of him leaving me behind while he took off with my car.

     I looked back at the rest building to located the women's washrooms and see if Steve was on his way back yet. When I turned around Carl's hand shot out and slammed into my cheek.

     Tears welled up in my eyes from the pain.

     "What?"

     "Quit looking at him."

     "I wasn't. I was looking for the bathroom."

     "Right. Yer sucha whore."

     "Carl! I wasn't!"

     "Whatever, bitch."

     I curled up against the door as tears splattered on the handle. Thoughts rolled through my mind. Carl had been happy when he moved in with me. We were officially engaged and he couldn't wait to get married. Then, slowly over the last few months, his temper got shorter, his outbursts got louder, his demands more stupid, and then this.

     Steve arrived back at the car and got in. Carl got back on the road quickly and continued on his way.

     I still had to pee.

     We sat in silence the rest of the trip. My tears had stopped, and anger took over. I had to do something. I couldn't continue to live that way. If he had slapped me once, he'd do it again - or worse.

     By the time we arrived at Steve's house, I had a plan.

     Carl unloaded Steve's things, then made to go inside and talk - without me. I told him I still had to pee and I needed a drink. He sighed and tossed the keys to me.

     "Hurry up."

     I got into the driver's seat and drove to the gas station on the corner. I used the restroom, got a drink, filled the car, then left. I didn't go back to Steve's house, though.

     A pang of guilt filled me when I reached the highway. I pushed it back, sure that I was doing the right thing.

     My phone buzzed from the center console.

     I picked it up and checked the caller ID. It was Carl.

     I set the phone back down. I'd call him back when I got home. Then I could get the address for where he wanted me to ship his things.

The assignment was to write a short story in first person that showed at least one of the following: how people could be surprisingly kind, how people could be surprisingly mean, or how something small could result in a big change.

Written: April 2010

Grade: B