Finding Obsidian

02 - Cantaloupes Can't Fly

"What an asshole!" I slurred. "Who wouldn't want to meet me? I'm awesome!"

Rokim nodded exasperatedly. "Yes, you are awesome," he echoed.

"I'm a . . . a pleasure to be around! I brighten the lives of alllll those I grace with my presence!"

Rokim rolled his eyes. "I know."

"I'm God's gift to the earth!" I insisted.

"You're so right."

"I'm practically an angel! But without the wings. Wings are weird."

"I feel so blessed."

I flopped back into my seat, nearly spilling my drink. "Hey, careful!" Rokim protested. "Look, I know it's the night before your first day back, but don't overdo it."

I groaned, setting the cup down on the bar and digging my hands into my hair. "Sorry, sorry. I just can't believe he didn't *hiccup* merember!"

"It's 'remember'."

"Thas what I said. Keep up, Kimmy."

Rokim sighed and patted me on the back. "I know, Han. But I told you he'd be different. Didn't I say he probably changed a lot?"

"Yeah, but . . . you know, I wasn't really listening."

"Of course you weren't." He pouted and started to retract his hand, but I grabbed it. "No no no, I'm sorry." I gave him my best puppy-dog eyes. "Please don't leave me. I love youuuu, Kimmy!" 

Someone coughed loudly in the background. I frowned—it sounded a bit familiar—but I shrugged it off and took another swig from my glass. Rokim chuckled. "Alright, alright—just calm down with the PDA, okay?"

I laughed and leaned into the seat. My head lolled back, my eyes falling on the stained ceiling of the crowded bar we were in. I felt my mirth slowly disappear, and winced at a stabbing pain in my side. "I just don't get it!" I exclaimed, feeling my anger rear its head. "Three years . . . three years isn't long enough to completely forget everything, is it? You sure it was him?"

"Yeah . . . I'm sure." Rokim pinched the bridge of his nose. "But honestly, can you blame him? After everything that happened, I wouldn't mind a little amnesia either."

"That's . . . that's bullshit!"

I slammed my drink down on the table, feeling heat rush to my cheeks.

"You can't just . . . just bottle that crap up! It's not healthy! And I bet he hasn't talked to aaaaanyone else about it either. Isn't he getting his degree in psychology? He should know this stuff, the dumbass!"

I closed my eyes, feeling my energy leaving me. I rubbed my temples in defeat. The buzzing in my ears was getting louder. Even if he didn't remember me, I'd be damned if I let him ruin himself.

"He didn't deserve it, Rokim," I slurred brokenly. "I should have. . . it was my fault. . ."

"Hey," Rokim interjected softly. "It was no one's fault. Not yours, and not Rian's. Don't go beating yourself up over it."

I clenched my fists, saying nothing, before taking another gulp of my drink. I savoured the burn as it slid down my throat, and ignored another sharp pain in my chest. 

Rokim stared at me, then sighed again. "You're drunk. Come on, let's get you home."

He grabbed my arm and pulled me off the bar stool. I stumbled along after him, too tipsy to really pay attention to where I was going.

I guess you can call that mistake number two.

My drunken self slammed directly into someone on my way out the door. I felt Rokim's grip on my arm slip away as the bar got even more swamped for last call.