Jake's POV

At first, I didn’t think it was a good idea to have Isis tag along with us, but after a while of talking to her, she’s not too bad. She’s quiet but she’s not bad. I was afraid she’d be one of those ‘stalker’ fans but she’s a cool cat.
After finally being able to walk in a straight line again, Isis and I walked to my room; I pulled out my hotel key and unlocked the door. We walked in and I threw myself onto the bed, “God, I miss beds!” I shouted. Isis began to giggle, her giggle was cute; it was one of those giggles that was soft and wasn’t too over-bearing. I think she’s starting to get use to us. I was starting to think she was afraid of me.
“So, it’s a quarter past midnight, what do you want do?” she said sitting herself on the couch.
“Well the bar is still open down in the lobby,” I suggested, “we could go get a drink.”
She shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t want to get up,” she whined. Come to think of it, I didn’t want to get up out of the bed either and she looked like she was ready to pass out on that couch. I sat up in the bed and went over to the mini bar and pulled out two cans of Coco Cola, two mini bottles of Captain Morgan and a bag of ice.
I walked to the kitchenette and pulled out two, tall glasses, filled it with ice and mixed the rum and coke together. “It’s not much,” I said gently rotating the glasses to get the rum mixed in, “but at least it’s a drink.”
I walked over to her and gave her, her glass. She smelt it before taking a sip. Smart habit to develop when going to bars, I have the same exact habit. Her face wrinkled slightly as she swallowed the drink. I’m starting to think that maybe a whole mini bottle was too much for her. She really wasn’t lying when she said she wasn’t a drinker.
“You know you don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to,” I smiled. Her face looked a little relief after she took her second sip. I took the glass from her and poured the rest of it into my already half-empty glass. “This is nice,” she said softly.
“What is?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Just sitting here, in silence,”
“You’re a very reserved kind of girl, aren’t you?” I chucked.
She sighed, “yeah, I don’t like to go out much ever since…you know…what happened with my ex tonight,”
“Why? What does he do that prevents you from having any form of social life?”
She stared at the floor for a second, as she took a deep breathe, “he’s just very controlling…he always has been…even after we broke up he still controlled my life,” I could see the worry in her eyes.
“When we were first together, he was sweet at first, but then he started to become kind of bitter as we grew use to each other and that’s when he started becoming more involved in my life,” I could see her fingers trembling slightly in her lap, “he began telling me what friends I couldn’t see, what to wear when I went out in public and then he began making choices for my flower business and almost drove me right into bankruptcy, but I drew the line when he laid his hands on me one night…” My stomach dropped and my hands grew clammy as I held the glass tightly in my palm.
“He came home drunk, I told him to leave, he refused; I tried to pull him out of the house…and he picked me up and threw me into my dining room table, it broke right in half, I called the police after that and I didn’t hear from him since.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, “at least you left him when you did, that’s the important thing.” She laid her head on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, I did the same thing mimicking her; to try and lighten the mood. She caught on quick and smiled at me. She sat back up and looked at me for, what seemed like, a while in silence. “Oh,” she said abruptly, “here’s your hoodie back,” she began to take off the hoodie.
“No,” I said, “you can keep it,”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” I smiled, “I’ve got plenty more where those came from.” She put the hoodie back on and gave me a hug. The hug was a bit of a shock. I was not expecting a hug.
I could smell the shampoo in her hair and the perfume on her skin; I just wrapped my arms around her and hugged her tight. “Thanks,” she whispered.
“For what?” I asked.
“For being a friend,” she smiled. Friend? Oh God. I’m in the friend zone. That’s almost like being put in the dog house.
I guess…I could handle being a friend.