Miss, Do I Know You?

08 - Saturday, October 10

Olivia peered into my room with confusion plastered on her face. "Why aren't you getting ready?"

A sluggish yawn seeped from my lips as I pulled my headphones off. Despite the hours spent napping and doing nothing productive, a lingering weariness persisted. To say that my life was stagnant would have been an understatement. It was something beyond that—an infinite drone of mundane noise, perpetually humming within my sometimes-riotous brain, now used to everyday trivialities on the loop.

I threaded my fingers through my hair and pulled myself into a sitting position when I noticed that Olivia and I shared the same expression. "For what?"

Her eyebrow arched even higher. "Sophia's 18th birthday party?"

All I seemed to have achieved was to marinate in my own gloom, sprawled in bed, which left no room for any semblance of social planning. "I don't think I'm invited."

"Yeah, right. It probably just slipped your mind. Do you have something better to do anyway?" she asked, to which I only replied with silence. Olivia must have sensed my hesitation because she grasped my hand and yanked me out of bed. "Come on. Let's break you out of this rut you're in."

"Liv, I just want to lay in bed and—"

"And what? Think about your teacher?"

"I just..." I whined. "I don't know about this."

Her expression softened with concern. "What is it? Do you need xan?"

"I have some left, but not much." I sighed. "But does it really matter if you're planning to get me drunk?"

"Now that's what I'm talking about." She grinned, pushing me across the room. "I can get you more next week. Get ready."

I laughed, shaking my head as I rummaged through my clothes. "You're insatiable."

"Come on! When was the last time we went out together? You were always stuck at work, so let's just have some fun tonight and make up for it."

Glancing at her eager face, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. Olivia was right. My social life had been suffering for a long time, and more importantly, I needed to relinquish the hold Alex had on my thoughts. Despite my reticence, there also was a tiny spark of anticipation that tentatively warmed me up to the idea. I knew it was time to put one foot in front of the other and get back into the swing of things.

What better way to start than with a night out with my best friend. The party was my opportunity to spend some time with her, something that had been sorely lacking due to my self-imposed isolation. A chance to cast aside my worries, to enjoy the moment without a care in the world, away from the lethargy.

And it turned out to be a really great time. The night sped by in the blink of an eye, leaving me pleasantly surprised to find my initial hesitance completely gone. My laughter came easy, fueled by the lovely burn of alcohol and the occasional puff of marijuana, and conversation flowed naturally with those around. Between all the introductions, it felt like I had met half of the town. There was something so therapeutic about it.

About the blend of delight and inebriation that whirled within, or about my feet that pulsed with such sweet agony, and how it all sentenced the anxiety and grief to the farthest corners of my mind. I just wanted to keep laughing, keep talking, and keep drinking until inevitable sleep would take me away from the world.

The change of scenery was such a refreshing shift, though eventually, a break became vital. In my stumble through the thrumming house, desperately seeking a bathroom, I chanced upon a closed door at the end of the corridor. But instead of what I had been searching for, within I discovered Sophia, her face illuminated by a phone screen and a guitar cradled in her lap.