Hazel's Hitchhiker

50: These Pretzels are Making Me Thirsty

Warning: Brief Physical Abuse

Joey

These pretzels were making me thirsty and that's exactly what I told Hazel with half of a bag left. Hazel still hadn't eaten much of her Munchies. Her glare was focused on the darkening sky. What was she thinking about?

"Reminds me of that episode of Seinfeld," responded Hazel who took one from my bag.

"You a fan of the show?" It would be cool if she was.

"Not really. My parents are the ones that love the show. My dad literally bought all nine seasons on DVD and would binge through them like nobody's business. I can't remember a time I ever found humor in that show." She took a moment to eat another pretzel before saying anything else. "Keep this a secret between us. A couple of years ago, he lost his precious DVDs, but I was the one to sell them on Craigslist. Never had I ever been more glad to never have to see or hear about that damn show again."

That was too bad. I actually like Seinfeld. Maybe I could change her mind in Austin. It still didn't change the fact that I was thirsty. In response, a beer was pulled from the cooler. In my bare hands laid what felt like a freezing can that could numb the skin. It was perfect for the mouth. For some reason at that moment, it didn't feel right for my taste buds. With the can opened, my eyes couldn't help but stare at it.

"Where the hell were you boy?" yelled my old man late on a Friday night.

Shit. Not this again. I was about to have the same conversation again with my poor excuse of a father. The floor was littered with beer cans. Our maid just couldn't catch a break.

"I've told you this a million times. I'm on the damn basketball team and we went out to celebrate a win. When will you remember that you old man?"

"The hell?!" His face turned red. It occurred to me that I should've chosen my words wisely. "Who you calling an old man you little shit?! You live under my roof and you respect my damn authority!"

Within a split second, he grabbed me by the shoulders and punched me in the stomach several times until I fell to the ground in pain. With my stomach in pain, every drop of alcohol rushed up, and puke left my throat leaving everything on the floor. Not my finest moment. Why couldn't my own mom be here to show the love that I needed?

"Something wrong with your beer?" asked Hazel who's eyes were on me.

"Nothing is wrong with it I guess. Just doesn't feel right to drink it." My words left a puzzled look on her innocent face. "I was thinking on my way to the grocery store of how I hated my life in high school. My mom was never there and my old man was always there to give me shit. And I kept thinking about everything that happened in Phoenix. My mom was happy. She had this freedom from that son of a bitch. It was a freedom that I always wished that I could have.

While I was at the store, a scary thought occurred to me. I might actually end up like my piece of a shit old man. Shit, I'm no different than he is. Here I am with a Fake ID buying alcohol for the millionth time in hopes of getting drunk. Maybe something of an escape. Why am I doing this? I have a basketball scholarship. And I could throw it all away because of a drunken mistake. What if I fall in love and hurt that person? Hell, Phillip almost killed a potential relationship with Amber because of all his partying and shit. To think of it, I spent most of this summer drunk that I didn't even know Phillip was in jail. What kind of friend is that?"

Hazel wanted to respond. She did. I could tell in her eyes that she was trying to think of something, but she couldn't. Who could blame her? I'd be the same way. All she could do was put her arm over my knee while sitting and listen.

"Did Jessica ever tell you how we hooked up?" Hazel had no response. "We both had alcohol in us and she was emotional that night."

As I sat in the room with Jessica that night, it slowly dawned on me that she was releasing tears. Real tears. The poor girl was obviously sad. All she could do was sit there and cry. She needed someone to listen.

"You're amazing, you know that?" I asked while kissing her hand.

Letting the poor girl continuing to cry, I stood up all wobbly and walked out of the room.

"I honestly don't remember much of what happened that night," I said while looking at the ground. "I don't know how much she remembers either. For all I know, nothing actually happened. Whatever. Maybe I could've helped her with whatever she was going through."

Hazel put her thumb on my chin and forced me to look at her. She gave me a look of assurance that she wasn't going to be judgmental.

"Jessica had a lot of problems. She did a lot of things that she probably shouldn't have done, to begin with. No lack of alcohol could fix any of that."

The moonlight somehow glowed against her skin. Maybe she was right. And without realizing it, she placed her palm on the beer that I was holding and scooched closer to me. Our bodies weren't far from each other.

"You want to dump out this beer together?" she asked.

Something in me was hesitant. Was this a good idea? It would be a waste of good beer. She could sense the resistance in my eyes.

"You know, you don't have to give up alcohol. Just maybe drink it on special occasions and not as often as you can."

That was a valid point. My heart began beating like a drum. And together we dumped the beer out. My body felt a rush like it never had before.

That was quite a chapter! Can you believe there are only 10 chapters left! Thanks for the support! Remember to comment and vote!

Can Joey actually give up alcohol like that?