Before the Car | Escapes #0.5

Chapter 8

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The sun's rays were beginning to stretch, casting long shadows across the ground. The sky was a lovely blue-gray with tinges of orange and pink. I'd never watched a sunrise, I realized as I sipped the beer in my hand. 

At some point I'd ended up on the ground. I'd spent most the night buzzed, on the verge of drunk but not quite there. The last time I'd spent the whole night out drinking was my first year of college. Four years ago, just about. The beer slipped from my cold fingers and all I could do was watch the nearly empty bottle fall and clatter on the pavement. 

"Dude, you good?" Chris slurred. Matt looked over, eyes heavy with sleep. 

"Great," I responded, leaning my head back against the pole I was propped up against. My eyes slid closed. How much longer? What time was it? When would Jenny be at the bus stop?

"Wanna finish this off right?" Matt asked. I cracked an eye open and saw his pull out a bottle of bourbon. Chris hopped up, swaying slightly as he shuffled over to Matt. "You drinking?" he asked.

This was going to do me all the way in, but I felt like I couldn't really turn him down. It wouldn't take much when the drink was that strong. So I did the one thing I could think of: I took the bottle and faked drinking it. I grimaced as I wiped my mouth and passed it to Chris, who took a long hit. 

People began gathering around the bus stop as I knew the first bus of the day would be running. It wasn't much longer until she would be boarding the bus. I checked my phone when the others weren't looking. Another hour and she'd show up.

Chris and Matt were getting drunker, but I was sobering up. Until the bus came, I was determined to not drink more. Not that I was even sure I could handle much of the hard stuff. I pretended to take a swig each time I got handed the bottle, and the guys were just drunk enough they weren't catching on.

The hour until the next bus passed slowly. I kept pretending to drink until, finally, I saw her. Jenny was walking down the road, wearing a coat that she pulled tighter as she glanced over at us. I tried to show her my back, but Chris shoved the drink at Matt and said, "I'm gonna talk to her." He turned towards her and my heart sped up. "Hey, beautiful," he shouted. I felt a wave of anger at this man talking to her that way, a wave that only seemed to get stronger as Matt whistled at her. "Why don't you come over here?"

Please don't come over here.

"Leave her alone," I slurred. I saw the bus coming, but so did Chris. 

He walked over to her as the bus pulled up, grabbing the back of her coat as she tried to board it. "I thought I said to come here," he said, slurring his words worse than I had. 

Her hand was grabbing the door to the bus as the driver said something to Chris. Those white knuckles told me what I had been too slow to notice: she was afraid of us. I grabbed the back of Chris's shirt and yanked. The bus driver said something to us, but I didn't register what he was saying. "Shut up old man," I muttered. "Let her go." I gave Chris another yank and he stumbled back into me, releasing his hold on Jenny in the process. 

She ran onto the bus and the doors closed right behind her. "You idiot," Chris said, turning to me and giving me a shove. "One of us could have gotten lucky."

His words made my skin crawl. Just how was he planning to 'get lucky' with her? "She was scared of us, man," I said, giving him a shove in return. "You should know better than to grab someone like that!"

He took a deep breath before trying to throw a punch I easily dodged. "You grabbed me, too, man. You should know better than to grab people like that," he said, his tone mocking.

"You were scaring her!" I looked at both of them and shook my head. "I'm out. Don't invite me back." I began walking away, ignoring their protests.

Who did he think he was? What could they possibly be to her? No one. They had no potential. There was no way she'd notice either of them. 

As I walked home, I wondered what made me think I had a chance. She probably saw me as one of them now. I would. I could see her think less of me on the spot. I just hoped she didn't know who I was right then. Maybe she barely saw me, or saw me so fleetingly that she wouldn't remember later on.

When I finally reached my house, I was beat. After staying out all night drinking, I could barely keep my eyes open once I saw my bed. First, though, I stripped and showered. I couldn't stand how dirty I felt anymore. Not only did I feel like I'd been rolling in dirt all night, but I felt like I had been steeped in it, too. 

What happened with them earlier was weighing heavily on me. Jenny had been scared, and now she would associate me with the people that scared her. I didn't want her to see me that way. 

Those thoughts of her followed me into bed, and into my dreams.