Right Into Place

Twenty-Nine

Despite the time, I really liked the "fifth" only, I wasn't able to get a chance since she told me she already has a family and such. It was my last straw.

"But-- how -- wh-why?" Taylor asked. "That makes like five idiots in the world to leave you."

"And you had an idiot who left you, seven years through," I shot back.

"We are so not talking about him."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Not yet."

"Okay."

"But in those five," she trailed, "What shattered you the most?"

I've thought about it. I didn't really compare which was more heartbreaking, short time or long time, they all felt the same. Heartbreak is a heartbreak, there is no rate to it.

"All," I replied.

"Okay so what are the things you hate the most?" She asked. When I raised an eyebrow at her, she said, "I mean, that's how you get to know a person, it's like a little game."

Alright.

"So long as we take turns."

"Fine."

I took a deep breath first, thinking of the things I hate and then one thing comes first, "This. Traffic."

She laughed, "Of course. Um, mine is like um, Mondays."

"Everyone hates Mondays," I told her. "Not accepted if the world generally hates it."

"Okay," she said. "I hate shopping alone."

"I hate the latest trend fashions."

"I hate teenagers in general," she said. Well, I do too.

"This should be a drinking game."

"Great idea!" She piped up even though I don't get the point that she'd drink. If she's bright, cheery, dreamy and sleepy at the same time when she's normal, I can only imagine what goes on if she's drunk. "So that's the plan? Nearest shop, then my apartment?"

"No, my place," I said.

"Whichever."

I looked over to her in sheer disbelief. She must have sensed it too easily because right then she asked me why I was looking at her like that.

"You drink?"

"I'm twenty-eight, Harry."

I shut my eyes for a moment, of course, she would have to drink for a couple of times but it didn't seem like it was in her. I didn't object though, I occasionally make the mistake of misjudging people.

"When is the last time you got drunk?" She asked.

"Just this weekend," I replied. "My brother wouldn't take 'no' for an answer but I was sober enough to drive home."

"I have a feeling that the brother you're talking about is Franco?"

"Yes."

When the traffic finally got moving, we headed to the nearby liquor store with Taylor's directions. She said she didn't know what's inside the place, only that she passes it by more than a few times a week so she knows there's a place like that.

Once there, she told me she'll just get the drinks herself. I objected but of course, her spunky spirit wouldn't let me have it my way so never mind the argument.

So I waited inside my car, telling myself over and over not to follow her inside because she'll be coming out any second now. That never settled me. All I did was keep glancing at the door, hoping that when it opens, it'd be her.