How Long is Forever?

How Long Will it Hurt?

Chris:

My phone buzzed beside me and I groaned. I briefly glanced at the flashing caller ID screen. It was Kat. My knuckles tightened around the steering wheel and I snapped my head back towards the road in front of me.

A picture of Kat laying on my couch popped up beneath her name. She was making a funny face, scrunching up her nose, sticking out her tongue, and squinting her eyes. It was the kind of picture that only I ever saw. Kat would just about die if her dumb*ss "friends" at school saw it.

That's why I'd set it as her picture ID in my phone. Every time she called or texted, I got to see a side if her that no one else did. It was like I had a secret that they would never know.

Now the picture seemed to mock me.

"Don't," I whispered to myself and waited for my phone to stop buzzing. It took every once of will power in me not to answer Kat's call. What if she was in trouble? Or she'd gotten hurt? Maybe she got too drunk and needed a ride.

I took a shaky breath and blinked a few times. Angrily, I slapped my phone off of the seat next to me. It hit the dash board and fell to the dirty carpet. It landed with a satisfying thud.

Kat was already too drunk to think. I clenched my jaw and tried to keep the anger bubbling inside me under control. Kat knew why I made her promise to get her drinking in check. She knew why I hated alcohol.

My mom left dad because he was an alcoholic. He was too lazy to work, too lazy to take care of us, too lazy to do anything other than drink. Mom left us because she couldn't be around dad when he was drunk. An he was always drunk.

Kat watched mom leave, she smelled the liquor in my house, and felt the pain that I did. But she got drunk off her ass anyway.

I took a deep breath and remembered the way Kat's breath had smelled if nothing but beer. I hated it. I f*cking hated it. The anger coursed through me again.

If Kat, for some stupid reason, absolutely needed to get drunk, she could've at least done t far away from me. She dragged me to this party, just so I could watch her get drunk and act like an idiot.

I can't stand this. Kat better know that i will walk away from her before se even has time to blink, if she makes this drinking a habit again.

Now I understand why the drinking drove mom away. And I can't blame her for leaving anymore. This is some bullsh*t.

Kat:

I pressed the phone hard against my ear. Why wouldn't Chris answer? He always answered by the second ring. But now, I'd called three times with no reply. This wasn't like him. Then again, getting drunk and kissing him isn't exactly like me, either.

It didn't matter which way I looked at it. I was still standing here, drunk and alone. And I needed to get home. And I'd just kissed my best friend. And he probably hated me. And I really needed to get my sh*t together.

I groaned and massaged my temples. This was so stressful, my head was throbbing and I couldn't think straight.

I whipped around as someone bumped in to me, making me drop my phone. "Watch it," I growled at the tall, lanky boy. I didn't know him, at least I didn't think so. He held his hands up in surrender and stepped back.

"Geez, loosen up," he reached behind him quickly, "Here, you need another drink." He shoved a plastic cup towards me. I stared at the contents of the cup. Maybe a little sip would help. My conscience yelled at me for even considering it. Then I looked out the window. No Chris. No point.

So why not?

F*ck it. Bottoms up.

Chris:

I locked my front door behind me, hoping to leave all memory of last night behind. But just like the alcohol on Kat's breath, the memories lingered. I rubbed the back of my neck and sighed. Kat had called me every two minutes for a whole hour last night. I didn't read a single text, answer a single call, or even listen to a single voice mail. If she could ignore my deep issues with what she was doing, then I could ignore her.

But after an hour of constant calling, it stopped. It didn't slowly and steadily decrease, it came to screeching halt. And that kept nagging at my brain. I choose to believe that she'd fallen asleep or something. But I know that's not the case. I know it. It would never be that simple with a drunken Kat. I didn't want to think about the reason she stopped calling. It would probably make me sick to my stomach.

Now, as I set out for school, I was faced with another dilemma.

Everyday since I'd gotten my driver's license, I'd driven Kat to school. Every f*cking day. I drove her to school with the flu once, I'd had to pull over an puke out my window half way there. It was a promise I'd made her, and one that I was determined to keep.Now what was I supposed to do?

If Kat can break a promise, why can't I?

"Because you care, dumb*ass," I mumbled under my breath, answering my own question. Great, I'd gone one night without Kat, and now I was answering my own rhetorical questions. I was losing it. I hadn't slept last night. And I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight if I left Kat standing on her front porch, with no ride to school.

I pulled my car door open quickly, and dropped into my seat. I turned the key in the ignition and headed in the direction of Kat's house, before I could come to my senses and change my mind.

A light was on in the kitchen of Kat's house. I could vaguely see a figure through the window. "Why am I here?" I mumbled, and refused to release my death grip on the steering wheel, despite the fat that I'd been parked in front of Kat's house for five minutes. Honking seemed like a good option, I wouldn't have to walk up Kat's driveway again. But I refused to be the jack*ss that simply honked to announce their presence to a girl.

I got my sh*t together and trudged up Kat's driveway. I made it a painfully long journey. Knocking on her front door, I shoved my other hand in my pocket and hung my low. The last thing I wanted was to make eye contact with her. Her eyes could melt ice.

No one came to the door. I knocked again, louder. Finally, I heard the sound of someone unlocking the door.

"Chris?" A woman's voice asked quietly. That wasn't Kat's voice. I looked up. Kat's mom, Karen, stood in the doorway.

What the h*ll? Karen came home about once or twice a month, and never during the daytime, always late at night. She worked like her life depended on it.

"Hi Karen, I-" I started to say but was quickly interrupted. "

"Please tell me Kat is with you," Kat wrung her hands anxiously. Wait, what?

"Why would she be?" I asked. This was getting too weird. I could tell something was off.

"Kat didn't come home last night," was the answer I got.

F*ck.