-Feeling Good by Nina Simone-

For the next few days, Denise and Mark stayed inside their hotel room, ordering takeout, eating snacks, and watching movies. They watched their favorite kid movies that they loved growing up.

Denise's favorite was all the Shreks, and Mark loved Scooby-Doo. One movie in particular that they shared a love for was Monster House.

They binged some of Parks and Rec, Criminal Minds, and How to Get Away with Murder.

Eventually, they got tired of watching a TV screen, put on some music, and lit a cigarette.

With her head propped up on a pillow, Denise laid on her back with her eyes closed. Mark was beside her, his back against the headboard and the cigarette in between his middle and index finger.

They quietly listened to the soulful voice of Nina Simone, both relaxed.

Well, Mark was relaxed. Despite taking meds, Denise's cramps were giving her a hard time. On top of that, she couldn't get comfortable and had the urge to be held.

It was only on her period that she felt the desire to be affectionate, which sucked for her because she usually used men for sex. She knew how to take the intimacy out of sex.

Taking the intimacy out of affection, however, contradicted the point of it.

Denise didn't even cuddle after sex. She got dressed and went outside for a cigarette.

"Damn it," she sighed, sitting up.

"What's wrong?" Mark asked her.

"I can't get comfortable," she rubbed the back of her neck, with both hands, "and my hormones are messing with me."

"What do you mean? What, are you horny or something?"

"No, you idiot," Denise rubbed her temples, laughing.

Mark chuckled, "I'm just messing with you."

"Well, it's not helping."

"I'm sorry, but I don't think I can be of much help considering I'm a dude."

Denise looked at Mark to give him a look, but paused, getting an idea.

"What?" Mark blew some smoke into the air.

"Don't make this weird, but I could really use a cuddle, and you're big and uh, broad, so, I'm just gonna -"

Denise lifts his arm, cuddling up to his side. She lays her head on his stomach immediately, feeling her hormones ease up.

"So much better," Denise sighed of relief.

Well, it was better for her. It was so unexpected for Mark that he had his arm in the air like he was afraid to touch her.

"This is you making it weird. Relax," Denise put his arm under hers, so his hand laid on her thigh.

Still a bit stiff, Mark used the nicotine to calm himself down.

A relaxed Denise closed her eyes, "so you said you have two sisters? Older or younger?"

"Older."

"So, you're the youngest. What are their names?"

"Adeline and Samantha."

"Have you talked to them or your family since you've gotten out of prison? How long have you even been out, and why not go back to Denver?"

"I've been out for a little over a year now. When I got convicted, my sisters and my parents would visit me a lot. Then life got busy, and I saw them less and less. Then I got transferred to Mass, and they didn't have the means to visit as much as they wanted. So, we just kind of disconnected after a while."

Denise shook her head, and opened her eyes, "family never sticks around. Were you close with your family?"

"Yeah, I was. I have to admit things started going downhill when they found out what was going on with Brianna. They warned me to stay away and mind my business, but I just couldn't. Though they never said it outright, I know my conviction disappointed them. So, I thought, why go back? There's nothing there for me in Denver anymore. I'm not even the same person. I don't think they'd recognize me."

"It's fucked up how people would rather look the other way, then to help someone."

"Can't really say I was much help, considering what happened to Brianna," Mark grimaced.

"Yeah, but I'd like to think that you wanting to help is more important than the outcome. If you think about it, though Brianna died, she died knowing her best friend was willing to help her and that you cared. Most people die, thinking no one loved them. I think that's worse."

Mark shrugged slightly, "that's actually a good way to see it, Gandi."

"Shut up," Denise rolled her eyes playfully.

He smirked, taking a puff the cigarette.

"I meant to ask you," Denise looked up at him. "Was Brianna just your friend, or were you like . . . in love with her?"

Gulping, Mark paused for a long moment, averting her gaze.

"That was the worst part of her dying. I never got to tell her that I was in love with her."

Denise put her gaze ahead as she listened.

"I had loved her for years. It was so deep that I didn't give other girls the time of day. All I wanted was to be with her. I made a promise to myself that I wouldn't give myself to anyone but her."

"So, you had never been with anyone?" Denise arched an eyebrow.

"Nope."

"Never been on a date to the movies, or I don't know got ice cream with a girl? Or even take her to dinner?"

"Nope."

"What about now?"

"Well, there wasn't much of a selection in prison, and by the time I got out, a woman was the last thing on my mind. I came out with no family, in a state that I was unfamiliar with. Getting my shit together seemed like more of the priority."

"Understandable," Denise nodded. "Would you be interested in hitting the dating scene? Falling in love, white picket fence, you know how it goes."

"If it happens, it happens," he shrugged. "I don't want to force it. I wear my story on my sleeve, making it, so I'm not 'bring home to daddy' material."

"I'd bring you home to my father," Denise grinned. "Just to spite him."

"Of course you would," Mark wasn't surprised. "What about you? Do you have any siblings? Are you close with your family?"

"I have a little sister. Her name is Iris. I haven't seen her in years. She was five when I last saw her, so I think she's probably sixteen now. She and I were close, but my parents and I - it was a love-hate thing. As much as they loved that I was a straight-A student, they didn't appreciate my defiance."

"So, you were a rule-breaker?"

"No, I wouldn't say that. I wasn't a go with the flow type of kid. If I felt like something was wrong, I spoke my mind, and they didn't like that. My parents were workaholics, so they weren't around as much as I would have loved them to be, and I didn't stay silent about it. We've had screaming matches, they'd tell me they were going to do better, then buy me a lavish gift and be on a plane the next day."

Denise looked up, feeling tears well in her eyes. She realized it probably wasn't a good idea to talk about her family when she was in such a fragile state.

Mark rubbed her arm, and she let out a breath.

"Anyway, my fall out with them resulted in me never seeing my sister again, so," she shrugged.

Mark looked down at her, "do you ever think about going to see them now?"

"Iris, yes, my parents, never. They ruined our relationship, and I just don't think it could ever be repaired. If not any time soon, ever."

"Yeah," Mark nodded, understandingly. "Sometimes, relationships just can't be mended, even with an apology."

Silence fell over the two, and soon, Denise closed her eyes, beginning to fall asleep.

"So, why'd you and your parents fall out?"

Denise let out a snore, signaling that she was asleep.

Mark looked down at her and smirked.

Denise snored regularly, but it was worse on her period. But Mark didn't mind. It wasn't like he slept anyway.

The important thing was, he had learned more things about Denise, and he didn't have to pull it out of her. It might have been because of her period, but he didn't care. If anything, it meant she was becoming more comfortable with him as he was her.

__________

"You're so dramatic," Denise rolled her eyes as Mark stretched out his arm.

"I'm dramatic, yet you had me stuck in an awkward ass position the entire night while you slept peacefully," Mark massaged his shoulder.

"You could have woken me up," Denise looks up at him.

"I tried, you just held on tighter."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Denise gave another eye roll. "Excuses, excuses."

Mark knew that she was coming off her period because her natural state of sassiness was returning. He didn't mind it though, at this point, he was used to it.

The two were out for the day exploring. They went to the Church Street Marketplace to look around all the stores and figure out where they wanted to eat for dinner.

As they were walking down the sidewalk, Denise noticed a record store.

"Oh my god, we have to go in here," she took off toward the door.

Mark followed behind.

As soon as they stepped foot into the store, and she heard Marvin Gaye's "Sexual Healing," playing, her hips started swaying back and forth, and she started singing along.

Her energy had also returned.

Mark locked eyes with the few of the customers, not being able to hold in a smile. He admired how unashamed she was, and he wasn't the only one. The men who were shopping with their girlfriend's noticed too.

One thing Mark had noticed, since being around Denise, is that men were in awe of her. Everywhere they went, she received stares. Not only was Denise beautiful, but her personality was so loud, man or woman, you couldn't not notice it.

For someone so closed off to people, she still managed to be seen.

The crazy thing was, she never noticed because she didn't care what anyone thought of her. She didn't care if you were looking or not; she was going to be herself regardless.

"Please tell me you know this song," Denise continued to dance as they started looking through the aisles of records.

"Who doesn't know this song?"

"You'd be surprised," Denise pulled out an Erykah Badu record. "By the way, I know I've told you this before, but your music taste is amazing."

"Yeah, well, I was introduced to different genres in prison," said Mark as he put a 2Pac record back. "I was into music before, though. My late grandmother taught me piano, and I taught myself how to play guitar, electric, and acoustic."

"Wow," Denise walked beside him down the aisle, "can you still play?"

"Maybe, it's been a while, to be honest. I grew up into rock and metal, then I went to prison, made some friends, and got introduced to new stuff. My buddy introduced me to Stevie Wonder. My favorite song of his is Master Blaster."

Denise gasped, "that's such a good one! It's one of my favorites too."

"So, I'm guessing you were really into music growing up, too?" Mark asked.

They stopped at a section and began pulling out records again.

"I loved music growing up," Denise recalled. "I was apart of the musicals in my school and the choir. My dad said I got my love for music from his mother. She was the lead singer in her all-female band. They sang at night clubs and stuff."

"Did you ever meet her?"

"No," Denise shook her head. "She died before I could. For a long time though, I did want to be a singer."

"What happened?"

"Well, my dad said it was unrealistic, and people rarely make it to the top, especially if they're not willing to sell sex. He said his daughter was not going to sing on a stage, as someone's sex slave, so he gutted that dream."

"I don't think I like your father very much," Mark was honest.

"You and me both," Denise stared admiringly at the Michael Jackson album in her hands. Mark looked at her, noticing how happy the topic of music made her.

He turned to her, "sing something for me."

"What?" Denise looked at him.

"I want to hear you sing. Sing for me."

"Alright, Berry Gordon, how about, no?" Denise put the record away.

"Come on. I want to see what you got," Mark crossed his arms over her chest.

"I told you," Denise copied him, crossing her arms over her chest. "It used to be my dream. Now I'm just a consumer of really good music. Well, kind of. I've been illegally downloading music for some time now, but that's just between you and me."

Mark laughed, "you are, unlike any person I've ever met, you know that?"

"Thank you," Denise smiled widely.

She turns around, bumping into a handsome dark skin, brown-eyed man.

"Hey," he flashed his white teeth at her. "My bad."

"It's cool," her flirtation switch flipped on instantly.

Unfortunately, when the guy locked eyes with Mark and saw how big he was, he quickly walked away. With a frown, Denise watches him go, then looks at Mark, who was still standing with his arms crossed over his chest.

"You gotta be kidding me," her shoulder slumped.

"What?" Mark cocked an eyebrow.

"This whole time, I thought I was doing good with the celibacy thing when, in reality, guys haven't been approaching me because of you."

"Because of me?"

"Look at you, standing like you're my damn bodyguard," she pulled his arms down.

"You know what, you're welcome," Mark gave her a fake smile.

She gives him a fake smile in return and turns around.

"We should go somewhere nice tonight," Denise suggests. She ran her hands over the records as they walked down the aisle.

"What's the occasion?" Mark walked behind her, his arms at his side. "Us, being on the road for a month now?"

"It's been a month already?" Denise turned around. "You're kidding."

"Yeah, it has."

"Wow, I -"

"Um, excuse me," a guy interrupted their conversation.

Mark and Denise looked at him.

"I'm sorry for interrupting, but I overheard that you've been traveling."

"Yeah, so?" Denise didn't understand his point.

"My mother and father retired. They converted a Merzedez-Sprints, and have been living on the road for almost two years now. They love it. My sister and her husband recently did the same thing, and they are loving the road."

"Yeah, it's really fun," nodded Mark.

"Have you guys videotaped your journey so far?"

"No," Mark shakes his head. "We never really thought of it."

"You should consider it, it's good for memories, and the lifestyle is becoming so popular, people are very interested in how it's done differently."

"Wow, we never thought of that, thanks, man," said Mark.

"No problem, you gave a good day," the guy walks away.

"What do you mean, wow?" Denise looks at Mark, who has this look of inspiration in his eyes.

Her shoulders slumped, "you've gotta be kidding me."