Kyle's leg cheekily slides across my lap as he repositions himself on the couch. Out the corner of my eye, I see the satisfied grin spread across his pink lips. I wait until he's snuggled under the plush blue blanket before I shove his legs off. Like a heavy rock, they hit the ground and Kyle shoots me evil daggers.
Like a small child, Kyle steals the blanket away and wraps himself up. His arms poke out of the blanket and awkwardly rest on his lap. He looks like a fluffy blue burrito.
"Come on," I grumble. "You have two-thirds of the couch, Kyle. You don't need to put your legs on me."
"Ava, I was getting comfortable." He pouts. "Now I'm annoyed and uncomfortable."
"Naw, baby! We can't have everything we want in life." I chuckle.
"Yeah." He fake smiles.
Without hesitation, Kyle instantly swoops in and snags the television remove from my relaxed grasp. He rests against the couch and begins to flicks through the channels. It's a blurry motion until he settles on one channel in particular.
I growl in disgust as I see the blue Ford sponsor banner in the background. Great, he's picked the sporting channel as revenge. Could he at least pick a sport with hot males?
My head swings in Kyle's direction, and I see the smug grin resting on his lips. I lean over the couch to tug on the remote, but Kyle uses his foot to jab me in the stomach. I keep tugging, but his grip is stronger than mine. I end up pushed back and empty-handed.
"Why can't you pick something else?" I ask. "Anything is better than this crap."
The thought of possibly spending my Friday night with this stuffed burrito and a sport channel is utterly boring. I assume staring at a blank wall would be somewhat more amusing.
"We're not watching your depressing movies," he explains. "How about we go out and do something?"
"No, I'm fine here," I say. "And my movies aren't depressing. The Notebook is a beautiful love story!"
"So you're okay with watching this?" Kyle laughs.
My gaze flickers back to the television. The older man dressed in the navy blue suit waffles on about something to do with a player. The other two on the panel try to jump in but their efforts are continuously knocked back as he continues to ramble on.
"Why can't we stay in and watch something else?" I offer.
"It's been three weeks, Ava, just message Blake and make up already!"
"How about you go out and leave me alone?" I snap.
Kyle huffs with annoyance. At least I know he's given up. The remote is passed over and I quickly change the channel. It takes me a couple of minutes but I manage to find a comedy festival airing live from the states. It's not something I'd usually watch but it seems funny enough.
"Better?" I question.
"Hm, sort of."
Kyle suddenly springs off the chair and dashes towards the kitchen. The blue blanket flies through the air and lands on my lap. Curious from his sudden outburst, I get off the couch and follow in his footsteps. As I enter the kitchen, I watch Kyle go through the cupboards until he finds a bottle of cheapish tequila and a pair of shot glasses.
"How about a few drinking games?" he offers, a ghost of a smile on his lips.
"Sure, if it makes you happy," I explain. Perhaps it would help to take the edge off of things as well.
"More than happy, Ava." He winks.
With two shot glasses and a bottle of opened tequila in hand, Kyle and I walk back to the lounge room. Instead of flopping back onto the couch, we sit by the coffee table and set the shot glasses out.
"What are we going to play?" I ask.
"Well." Kyle looks over his shoulder and smiles. "Every time that guy says fuck, we'll take a shot."
"I think we're going to need another bottle." I laugh.
Kyle discards my comment by filling the two glasses to the brim. I rest my back against the couch and wait. It takes a couple of minutes but the first f-bomb is dropped and we down our shots. It's not until the end of the five-minute segment that we take our second shot.
"That was a fucking disappointment." Kyle laughs.
"You better fucking drink for that." I giggle.
Kyle pours two more shots for each of us before venturing off for a deck of cards. I grab my phone from the couch to check the time. Instead, I'm surprised to find a message from Blake on the screen.
"I miss you. Call me back?" – Blake.
Instead of answering his message, I swipe the notification off the screen and throw my phone onto the opposing couch. As Kyle has pointed out, it's been three weeks and two days, yet I can't seem to find the closure I need.
Blake and I agreed that I'd get my sense of freedom while I figure myself out. In the beginning, he'd call in to check on me, eventually, I ran out of things to say. I wasn't getting any better, I missed him, but I can't live at his house. I need something more.
Watching Ivan slip away, it shook me to a depth I didn't know I could reach. I was terrified of falling, even though I've been falling for a long time. I wasn't good for Blake, not in my current state.
"Are you okay?" asks Kyle.
As Kyle takes a seat beside me, he wraps his arm around my shoulders. I rest my body against his chest and grab the bottle. I take a swig and pass it to Kyle. He does the same thing before placing it back on the table.
"I'm fine." I insist. "Just fine."
While Kyle deals a game of go fish, I pour us another drink. I can already foresee this is going to be a long night if Kyle and tequila is involved.
"Bottoms up, we're playing hardcore," explains Kyle. "For failed matches, you drink."
"Can I start drinking the bottle now?" I laugh.
"Sure," replies Kyle.
One game later and almost half a bottle shared between us, I pick up the remainder of the cards and throw them in the air. I watch as the specs of paper flutter to the ground around us. Kyle grabs a handful and throws them at me. I try to get away, but he grabs my leg and pulls me back.
"What are you doing?" He laughs.
"Fifty-two card pick up." I grin excitedly.
"Nah, you're picking those up, buddy."
"What?" I pout.
As I go to stand up, my legs wobble and I land with a thud. I roll to the side and rub my bottom to sooth the pain coursing through.
"Are you okay?" asks Kyle.
"You know, you're always asking me that," I note.
"Because."
"Because I'm fine." Grabbing onto the table, I push myself up. I trip over Kyle's long legs as I go to walk out of the room. Instead of a smooth exit, I end up in a tangled heap on the cold floor. Despite his best efforts, Kyle's laughter escapes his lips thus leaving him with a bright red face.
"Can I ask?"
"No." I shake my head. "Please don't."
My soon-to-be-bruised body hurts as I push myself up. Before I can stand on my own two feet, Kyle comes along and easily slings me into his arms. Without missing a beat, he takes the stairs by two and wanders down the dark hallway. It's only now that I realise how much my world is actually spinning in lopsided circles.
"Why are you still here?" I ask.
My hazed mind wanders back to the moments I'm not too proud of. There seems to be no rock bottom when you fall, just deeper and deeper, even when you think you couldn't fall anymore. Kyle's annoying face shows up every time. Odd how that works.
"What do you mean?" Kyle inquires.
"I chose Blake over you, even though we've been friends longer. Doesn't that make you angry? I wouldn't be friends with me . . ." I sigh.
"But I still love you, Ava, even though you don't love me back. I could never leave you, even if you wanted me to," he says.
"You still love me?" I frown.
"Yes," he replies.
"But-"
"But what?" He frowns. "Whatever you think is so bad in that brain of yours, it's not. The sun comes up every morning despite what happened the day before. Our friendship will always be like that. I'll keep showing up until you're dead. Even then, I'll be the last face you see." He winks.
"Why your face?" I chuckle.
"Because I'm sexy and I wouldn't want to rob you of that." He booms with laughter.
"Now that would be a crime." I laugh with him.
"Yes, it would be indeed and we can't have that!" he replies.
"What should I do about Blake? Do you think I should beg for his forgiveness?" Kyle stands in the middle of the hallway with a thoughtful expression sprawled across his face.
"A selfish part of me wants you to pick me, but I know you're better off with Blake. One day . . . hopefully soon, you'll realise it too. Until then, try not to fuck things up too much," says Kyle.
"Do you think I can fix things?" I ask.
Kyle flicks on the bedroom light which stings my eyes. He moves towards the bed, then drops my body like a sack of potatoes. I spring across the small bed, before being shoved to the side. Kyle takes a seat and rests his hand on my hip.
"You can fix anything if you put your mind to it," Kyle tugs me into a hug. "And remember, it's all about the baby steps."
"But I hate this part!" I frown. "Do you know what I hate even more?"
"Yourself?" he jokes.
"Oi." I slap his shoulder. "The fact I know this part all too well."
"Go to sleep because tomorrow is always another day." Kyle leans in and presses a kiss to my cheek. As he goes to walk away, I tug on his hand and pull him back to the bed.
"Stay, please."
Without answering, Kyle turns the light off and lays beside me. I rest my head on his chest while he tightly wraps his arms around me. I know it's selfish to want Kyle to hold me, but I snuggle in regardless. I like the feeling of his arms wrapped around me. Not necessarily because it's Kyle, but because it's been helping me sleep better.
"I still love him," I whisper into the material covering his chest. "I just can't go back because I feel like a disappointment."
"I know and you're not," he replies. "Ivan's passing was out of your control, and for the record, you'd have rocked as a mother." Kyle kisses the top of my head and then wraps the blanket around our bodies.
"Thanks." Even though it doesn't change how I feel, a sense of relief courses through my system.
"Just remember, tomorrow is always a new day."
With those parting words, the room stops spinning and instead, I fall back into the black hole that's consumed my life. Kyle is right, tomorrow is a new day but that doesn't mean there's anything new about it.