The Friend Zone

Chapter Two: Some Things Never Change

 Every time I told Taylor to call me when he was leaving a bar or a party, I thought he'd forget by the time he was trashed and ready to go home. And every time, I was wrong. I didn't party as much as he did in high school, I only went out and drank every couple of weeks where he'd go out after any big win and get wasted, that was the majority of the reason he ended up playing DIII instead of DI. I was always worried about him when he went out and I couldn't because of homework or my own game, worried he'd get in the car and run into a tree and kill himself or kill someone else because he could barely drive when he was sober, let alone when he was drunk. Sure thing, he called me up at three thirty that morning, drunk as a sailor.

"I'll be there in five," I sighed answering his question as soon as I answered the phone, only to hang up the phone right afterward. I grabbed my keys and threw on the first sweatshirt I could find and went out to my car.

I really hated Caf, I actually only enjoyed being there when I was drunk and had no standards. The place constantly smelled like liquor, you couldn't walk in there for a split second without coming out smelling like booze. The bathrooms were a whole 'nother story. They'd "renovated' the place in the last year so the bathrooms weren't old and moldy, they were just always messed up. At least one of the two sinks was typically filled with damp paper towels or cheap plastic cups from the bar and at least one toilet was either overflowing or had vomit on it and you were lucky if you found the stall with toilet paper. Despite all of these nasty things about it, it was to go to place on Thursday nights for anyone at Aladine College, especially after club hockey games when most of the players would find their way over there after the games.

"Where the hell are you dumbass?" I grumbled as I waited outside the door. After another fifteen minutes, I decided to go in there to find him.

The lone bouncer at the door was long gone, probably at the bar, so I walked right in. The security in this place was never great anyway, the bouncer seldom checked ID's like he was supposed to and would let anyone in who slipped him a twenty.

"Taylor! I've been waiting for twenty minutes!" I exclaimed when I found him back in the corner, slamming the rest of a drink with a bunch of his teammates.

"Shit, sorry Tess," he said, "I didn't realize-"

"Cut the crap, let's go I have to get back to bed," I sighed as I dragged him out of the building and out to the car by the collar of his flannel shirt.

"Thanks for picking me up," he said as we pulled up to his dorm hall.

"Anytime," I sighed.

"See you tomorrow," he said, getting out of the car and walking up to the door, only to fumble around in his pocket and with the handle. I didn't know how the man-child could function sober half of the time, let alone drunk.

"What's wrong?" I asked as he came back to the car.

"I forgot my school ID in my room," he said, "I can't get back in."

"You're going to be the death of me," I sighed, "Get back in the car."

###

If I had a dime for every time I'd saved Taylor McCarthy's ass, I'd have at least one new stick. The man, or should I say man child, had a knack for getting himself into trouble and I had a habit for feeling bad for his sorry self every single time he called me with a sob story or drunk as a sailor. But Taylor McCarthy also had a habit of making me feel better when I felt like shit. When my first boyfriend broke up with me, he was the one who dragged me out of the house at one in the morning and we walked down to the river and drank a twenty-four pack of beer while throwing rocks at the trees on the other side of the river.