Flashing Lights

24 - Data check

At precisely 7 pm, I hear a knock on my hotel door.
I can't believe he's actually on time. Maybe there's hope for him after all.

I smile at the thought. There really isn't, I've seen enough of his time management skills to be quite sure about that by now.

I get out of the bathroom and check myself in the full-length mirror one last time.

I don't look too bad, if I do say so myself. I've straightened my hair, making it look a little longer than when I wear it with my natural waves in it. I wasn't really sure what to wear, so I pulled out a black t-shirt dress combined with white sneakers and a denim jacket. I decided not to put too much make-up on. We were going to a sports game after all. Showing up in a cocktail dress and heels would be ridiculous.

The idea that Kimmy would dress like that - you know, the last girl he took on a date - pops up but I decide to push the thought back.

It's only nine steps from the mirror to the door - don't ask me how I know that, I just do - but I somehow manage to trip along the way, hitting my head on one of the sharp edges of the desk located between the mirror and door.

I groan loudly and bring my hand up to the place where my forehead and the desk collided. When I look at my fingers, I'm relieved to see that there is no blood sticking on them.

"You okay?" I hear a muffled voice ask through the door.

"I'm fine, give me a second!" I shout, while scrambling to my feet. When I open the door, I'm surprised to see Paul standing in the hallway instead of the man I was expecting. "Paul? What are you doing here?"

"We have a night off. I wanted to see if you wanted to hang out." He asks, while landing his eyes on my forehead. His smile instantly turns into a worried expression. "God, Millie! What happened?"

I get a feeling he isn't asking because I smudged my mascara.

"Oh. That. Nothing, I tripped and bumped my head when I wanted to answer the door."
Okay, maybe it doesn't really feel like 'nothing'. It actually hurts really bad. Why do I have to be such a klutz all the time?

"Well there's a bump the size of an egg on your forehead." He says, while leading me to my bed by my elbow. "Sit down and wait here. I'm getting ice from the machine down the hall."

He's already sprinting out of the room before I can protest.

I contemplate on checking how bad I actually look in the mirror, but honestly...I don't want to know. Judging from the throbbing in my head, I don't think it's looking very pretty.
I sigh and let myself fall back on the soft mattress. Great start of my first date with Hunter.

Speaking of Hunter, where is he anyways? I grab my phone and when I unlock the screen, I see that it's already 7:06 PM.

See, I just knew he would never make it on time.

"Paul to the rescue! Sit up sweetie." He says, pulling me up on my arms. He places himself next to me on the mattress, and turns my shoulders sideways so that I am facing him. "How's the pain?"

"It's okay. I've survived worse."

"Squeeze my thigh, this isn't going to be pleasant." He says, while carefully rubbing an ice cube over the bump on my head. He wasn't lying. After a minute of rubbing ice on the sore spot, I hiss and pull my head back. " Isn't that enough torturing for one day?"

"You'll thank me in the morning. Without the ice, this bump will grow even bigger and will have every color of the rainbow by then."

"You're probably bored of me saying this, but you really are one of the nicest people I've met." I say, while pulling him in for a hug. I know I've already said it so much, but I mean it more every time the words leave my mouth.

"I don't think I ever will." He answers and I smile, letting my head rest on his shoulders. He was right the other day. Him telling me how he feels about me doesn't change anything. I was afraid things would get awkward between us, that I would feel uncomfortable around him. I'm glad I'm proven wrong for once. Things are just as easy as they have ever been between us.

I hear someone clearing his throat and I lift my head off of Paul's shoulder. I don't really have to look to know who it is. Hunter is leaning against the doorpost, his arms folded across his chest. He looks...normal. No beanie. No shades. No designer clothes. Just a pair of regular jeans combined with a navy blue T-shirt and a pair of black Converse shoes.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" He says while raising an eyebrow. His green eyes fixated on Paul.

"Oh, hey man." Paul responds while giving Hunter a small wave. Poor guy doesn't have clue and I need things to stay that way. I get up from the bed, making my way over to him. "Hey Hunter, what are you doing here?" I ask, silently pleading him to please, please, please play along!

"What? How could you forget? Did you bump your head or something?" he asks, his eyes still set on Paul.

"Yeah man, she actually did." Paul responds, gesturing towards my forehead.

Hunter finally lifts his eyes from Paul and looks at me, still very much confused, until he notices the bump on my head. A horrified expression immediately appearing on his handsome face.

I'm starting to feel slightly worried by now.
It can't be that bad, can it?

He walks over to me, cupping my face in his big hands. "What the hell happened, Millie? Are you okay? Hell, do you remember who I am?" He practically shouts, articulating the words very slowly.

What's wrong with him? I hit my head, I didn't turn into a total moron.

"I'm fine, I am totally fi..." I start, but shut myself up when I finally take a look at myself in the mirror.

Oh.
I get it now.
I don't look that fine.
It's almost as if I'm growing a second head. Fuck. It's huge! And very, very blue.

I turn to face the two men standing in my room. They're still questionably looking at each other.

"Millie has a point though... what are you doing here, Hunter? Did you hear Millie moan or something?" Paul asks.

"Moan?!" Hunter squeals, while looking at me with wide eyes and an open mouth.

"Yeah, I put some ice on her forehead, you know, to soothe the bruise? Wasn't pleasant..." Paul explains, while giving me a sympathetic smile. The poor guy is still absolutely oblivious of why Hunter is low-key freaking out.

"Oh." Is all Hunter responds, his face filled with relief.

Was he really just thinking what I think he was thinking?
Was he jealous?

"I'm here, because we have a da..."

"Data check. He's picking me up for our weekly data check. You know, social media monitoring and stuff. Yes, yes, we do it regularly." I quickly interrupt.

What the hell, Hunter?
Was he really just going to tell Paul he was picking me up for a date?
I thought I was the one that bumped her head.

I'm not convinced Paul believes what I've just told him, but he lets it go. "Right. I see. Well, I'll leave you guys to it then."

"Thank you for taking care of me."

"Someone has to do it." he says while glancing at Hunter.
"One more thing though. Be careful, Millie. These things mostly don't end well..." He whispers, before giving me a peck on the cheek.

Shit. He isn't talking about the bruise.