The Butterfly and The Moth

16

Maybe it was due to the alcohol, but no longer did I feel nothing when I looked at Sterling.

I felt the remnants of my annoyance of him surge through me. Though, it wasn't simply annoyance. There was something stronger. Anger, maybe. Whatever it was, it made my body turn red.

"Go the hell away," I said loudly in his direction, and I was surprised when I heard my own words. They sloshed together, the syllables meshing together in an unpleasant way.

See, that was the thing about growing up with a mom like mine. When you've had to clean vomit off their chest at three in the morning, and sit beside them to check their breathing sounds at the tender age of ten. It makes you vow to yourself to never touch the substances that turned your parent into a disgusting stranger.

Or at least, that's what it did for me. It was a vow I kept. Until tonight.

Sterling looked at me for a brief second, a hint of surprise in his eyes, but just like me, he seemed to be mainly annoyed mixed with angry.

And I had no clue why. Why did he care what I did, or who I was with?

Sterling let his eyes drift back towards Colt, not bothering to answer me. And I noticed that when he looked at Colt, the anger in his eyes was the loudest.

I looked at Colt, too. He seemed to be unsurprised at the Sterling's reaction. He looked unbothered, like his reaction was to be expected. He didn't bother answering Sterling's rude question, he looked back to me, instead.

"Boyfriend?" He asked, his smirk reappearing, before instantly dropping again. He gained a different look, clearly bothered this time. "He the reason your eyes are dead?"

"What?" I asked, "no. I don't even know this guy."

"If you don't know him," Colt answered quickly, his playfulness coming back at once, "why is he yelling what I assume to be your real name, Dolly, and questioning me like I kidnapped you?"

I let his smug words sink into my blurry brain. He made a good point.

"Dahlia," Sterling spoke again, reminding me of the fact he was still there. His voice was calmed down, less yell-y. "What are you doing here?"

"If you're not her boyfriend, and I'm assuming you're not her father, either," Colt seemed to answer for me, "it's not really your business."

I felt my head tilt as I listened to him. He seemed to make all of the right points, again.

"Yeah," I added, and again, the way my voice sounded was foreign to me.

"Are you drunk?" Sterling disregarded Colt's words completely, looking directly at me instead. He looked different than how he usually looks. But, he was still glaring at me. So I guess that was familiar.

"So what if I am?" I retorted quickly. "All you guys do in this fucking town is get drunk."

"It's true," Colt added from beside me, and I nodded. We had quickly formed a companionship. We were a team. Us against Sterling.

"Dahlia, we drink beer at a parties. We don't drink straight gin in a parking lot with the cashier from the gas station," Sterling said, and gave me a distinct look of what the fuck as he said it.

"The cashier from the gas station has a name," the kinda-stranger beside me said at once.

"Yeah, it's Colt," I added, and as I nodded my head to add effect to my words, it seemed much to heavy for my body. The weight of it brought my body in the same direction, and I had to catch myself before I tipped over.