Everything Has Changed

9.5 Lingerings

B.P.O.V.

I empty the glass and pour back into it; my hand shakes, spilling some rum on my side table, "Damn," I breathe through my teeth. I set the bottle down, move the tone arm over the record and turn up the volume. Laying down, I feel for my phone. With it in my hand a press the button to turn on the screen and I put in my passcode; ten missed calls from Phil, five from Brandon, six from Eric and thirty-or-so-odd texts from family and others. I toss the phone aside and sit up just enough to take another swig from my glass. I set it on the table and lay back down letting the lyrics of familiar songs slips though my lips, their words coming forth in with lisps and scattered mispronounced syllables. 

Its been weeks she won't even talk to me.

Laylani. My bestfriend since childhood, the person I could go to and tell anything without being self conscious or ashamed. She encouraged me, held me up when I felt down and was always there to get in trouble with me. I should have realized it earlier, she's always been more important. I've felt an obligation to be there for her since we we're kids.

This is ridiculous. 

She didn't even give me a chance to explain. She agreed with me, that we had to figure out what was going on between us...she's the one who kissed me first, she's the one who wanted me to stay, she was the one who did everything before I even tried. I just want time to explain. If she let's me explain.

I take the glass in my hand, put it to my lips and let the cool liquid slip down my throat with a slight burning that causes me to cough.

She didn't have to act the way she did after what happened. She was ready, I was ready; we wanted each other. Just like a love-drunk kid my heartbeats speed up when she's around, I feel warmer in her embrace and I can't shake the bubbly feeling in my chest. The feelings were too strong for me to ignore.

I need to get myself together. 

With a chime I hear the oven in the kitchen. Peeling my body from the comfort of my bed and stumble to the kitchen, using walls and the edges of tables to steady myself. I set my glass down, open the oven and grab the tray of Tostino's Pizza Rolls with the edge of my tee tossing it on the counter. The heated pan meets my flesh, causing me to throw the pan on the floor; the pizza rolls scatter across the tiles, steam still rising off of them. I squeeze my right hand with my left pressing my fingertips against the be burn along my pointer finger. I swear under my breath before I empty the contents of my glass over the wound. I tighten my jaw for a moment as the pain dulls. I drag an unopened bottle of Malibu coconut rum out of the cupboard; I take the same glass and pour my self a shot. Knocking it back I clear my throat and drop my weight on to one of the dining room chairs.

Glass after glass, alcohol can't replicate the intoxicating feeling she gives me. 

__________

L.P.O.V

"I'm outside." Este texts just as I hear a knock at my door. Set my phone down and practically roll out of bed. Drawing my hair up into a ponytail I walk to the door, un-latch it and open it. Este stands before me in a pair of khakis, a denim button down shirt, brown oxfords and a black pea coat. His hair is perfectly situated on his head and his facial hair perfectly tailored ad if he had done it just this morning. He holds a full cardboard coffee tray in one hand and a couple of plastic bags in the other. 

"Alright so, here are your groceries," Este says setting a group of plastic bags on my counter top. He sets the coffee down and chooses one of the cups. "You're green tea." He hands me the cup.

"Thank you so much Este," I say exasperatedly as I take a long sip.

"You're welcome, I need the altered women's pea coat and the bottom change for the men's coat. We need those last pieces in."