Far Beyond Broken

February 23, 1987. Monday

I pulled the car to the curb in front of the small house.
There weren't any other houses on the road. The yard was cut short, with missing patches of grass. The paint was chipping off the outside of the front door. There was a dent on the inside of the door. You walked straight into the living room, to the left was a small kitchen. To the right was a small hallway with two doors.
The carpet in the living room was stained. Vinyl covered the kitchen floor. It had a brown dirty look to it, probably cause it was old. The guys were trying to get the television working in the living room.
“We got Whataburger!” Mad yelled as she placed the bag on the kitchen counter.
Phil ran out of the room in the back of the hallway.
He ripped the bag open, “Thanks man, I'm starving.”
“Good to see you too,” I said with a laugh.
The others came to grab a burger.
“So how do you like my place?” Phil asked.
“Its, uh. . . definitely cozy,” Mad replied.
“I only have to pay two-thirty a month. Come look at my room.”
The girls and I followed him to the back of the hallway. There was a pile of blankets, a few pillows, a record player, a few records piled up in a corner, and one small cardboard box.
“You gonna sleep on the floor?” Vic questioned.
“Yeah, until I can get up enough money to buy a mattress or couch or somethin. I used every penny to my name plus some to get here.”
“We can help you out man,” I stated.
“Nah, I can figure it out. I always do.”
He led us to the other room in the hallway. It was a small bathroom.
“Dude, your piece of shit T.V ain't working,” Darrell blurted out.
“Ah, hell. You dumbasses can't even figure out how to get a T.V plugged in right.”
Phil started messing with it. Nothing. He smacked it. Still, nothing.
“Dammit,” he kicked the side of it.
Phil went to the ground grabbing his foot, but the news came on the T.V, along with a small crack in the corner.
We couldn't help but break into laughter.
“You got your T.V workin dumbass,” Vinnie said trying not to chuckle.
Phil didn't have much to unpack, so there wasn't much to do except sit around and talk.
The guys left at around one in the morning.
Mad finished off the last beer Phil had brought with him.
“Those two twelve-packs were supposed to last me a week or two ya know?”
“We'll getcha some more Philly boy, don't worry,” Mad said stumbling to stand.
“I'm gonna get her to the car,” Vic whispered to me. “See you soon Phil.”
“I should probably go with them. I'm the driver tonight.”
“Wait. I forgot something, come here.” I followed him to his room, as he dug around in the cardboard box.
“Here,” he handed me a cassette tape.
“What is it?”
“Some demos I recorded with my old band. I don't know, thought you might like some of em on there. Maybe you could cover some.”
“I'll give it a listen.”
He stood inches from, his dark eyes glaring into mine. Those eyes, they spoke hundreds of words, yet I couldn't pick any of them up.
Every fiber of my body was holding me back from kissing him.
Did he remember the kiss? If he did, did it mean anything? Did he want me as bad as I wanted him at this moment?
The funny thing about it is he was only looking at me. Not even touching, although if he stepped any closer we would be.
His eyes did this to me. I couldn't imagine what his touch would do.
"I gotta go. I'm glad you're sticking around.”
“Uh-huh, me too,” I noticed his eyes glance elsewhere on my body, I wasn't sure exactly where though.
“See you soon, bye Phil.”
“See ya, K.”