AnguiSH by Lila Felix

was having a hard time ignoring.  That she could free me of this.  That she could be the needle to pop my ugly bubble. 
                  But I ignored it, slammed my fist against the door inside me, chained and deadbolted it just to make sure it was shut out. 
                  She cleared her head, nodded once, and resumed mopping.  I grabbed ham and cheese and other sandwich makings and unloaded my armful on the counter. 
                  “Why don’t we order in pizza or I can go get us something to eat.  You’ve been eating cereal and sandwiches for almost a week.”
                  I didn’t even turn around to address her, “What are you, the food police?”
                  “No, I just noticed.  Sorry, I’ll get out of your way.” She leaned the mop against the wall and walked towards her room. I rolled my eyes, pretending it was what I wanted. 
                  I kept up the half façade/half ego trip for another week. But now instead of pacing, I was letting it shred me from the inside out.  I spent Saturday morning gathering my laundry up since I had none clean again.  I heard a noise outside and went to the window to see what it was. 
                  Ash was there, unfolding, more like wrestling, with a chair flapping the sides this way and that.  She looked like one of those people who worked in the GAP with their perfected t-shirt folding contraptions.  She finally got it situated and pulled a mini speaker and her iPod from the pocket of her dress. She ran her thumb across a screen and cocked her hip out, satisfied with her selection.  She plugged it in and my ears and the neighborhood became audience to her playlist.  I scanned the fence perimeter, more for her than me but found nothing and no one to feed my fear.  But when I looked back I took a step back in sync with my swift inhale of breath at the sight before me.  She lay on her stomach in a whisper of a black bikini, the dress she had on before long gone.  I stepped to the side of the window so my body was hidden, and dared to peek once more.  I gripped the windowsill, hoping it would absorb some of my out of control frenetic energy.  I felt like I was seventeen again, ready to jump at any girl within spitting distance.  But I didn’t want any girl, I wanted her. 
                  She had to be doing it on purpose.  She began to sway her hips to the beat of the music just enough to make me groan.  Then she reached up and untied the string on her back and the one around her neck and let them fall down to her sides.  I hated to admit that my attraction to her was the factor that tipped the scales in her favor.  It sounded so shallow but it made me a magnet for her.
                  I’m such a sleazeball.
                  I ventured to look again and this time her head was turned towards me.  I could see her plump lips mouthing the words to whatever song she belted out below.  I thunked my head against the window and relented.
                  “Screw it, even if she only helps me out of pity, I’ll take it.”
                  So I waited her out.  Because if I went out there, I couldn’t be held responsible for what would happen.  My need for her was out of control. 
                  I did all my laundry, all while keeping one eye on the back door, or the window, whichever was closest to her.  She finally came in and hesitated by the door.  And it made me feel like crap for treating her that way.  She didn’t deserve the brunt of my whacked out life. 
                  “Hey,” I approached it hesitantly, “How about pizza and a movie tonight?”
                  She closed her eyes for a moment and then I could see she’d made a resolve of her own.
                  “I’m sorry, Breaker, I’d love to, but I have a date.” I