March 14, 2009
The more you hate, the more you love. Whoever was the first to say that must have been really drunk.
“She would be fine, won’t she?” Matt wondered to himself as he got back to his college friends.
“Matt!” came a girl’s shrill voice. “Over here, lover boy!”
She patted the space beside her and motioned for him to come and hurry. He flashed her a lopsided grin—one that seemed to be favored by most of his female companions—and began his way there.
As soon as he was seated, Rico, the birthday celebrant, began ribbing him with questions.
“Who was that chick? She doesn’t look like your type. Been trying to be the good Samaritan now?”
“Of course not,” Matt denied with a mischievous grin. “She’s Rachelle’s friend. Thought I should watch out for her—”
“—or Rachelle’s gonna cut your head off,” Rico finished with a laugh.
“Exactly,” Matt agreed as he joined in the laughter.
“You know man, if I haven’t seen you in an actual fight, I’d have labeled you a pussy. God, Rachelle has you wrapped around her fingers like one of her Barbie dolls.”
Matt gave him a snarky grin and tapped Rico on the shoulders. Hard.
“I assume you don’t want a demo?” Matt said through his teeth.
A glint of fear crossed Rico’s eyes as he removed Matt’s hand.
“’Course not. I’m just joking, you know,” he said with a nervous laugh.
Matt nodded. “I see.”
He may not be one of the rich kids in Kinston but everyone knows how short Matt Harlow’s temper was and everyone would always try their best to avoid making him angry. People respect him not because he was a famous person but more because behind his party-boy personality was the intelligence of a genius. Majoring in physics with a full scholarship from Kinston was enough proof. People always got amazed at how he could be in a band while maintaining his good grades every time they hear about Matt’s educational background.
He sighed.
Sometimes he wished he was a bit more normal. Or perhaps only as intelligent as Rachelle. His above average IQ made it hard for him to enjoy being friends with some people. He was generally a kindhearted person but his impatience often kicked in whenever he was surrounded by so much bullshit. Thus, despite his presence in a lot of parties, he was never seen in constant company of anyone except the members of Quarter-To-Five.
Matt was so immersed in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed that his friends had started a drinking game. By the time their noise got through his head, the group had already finished half a bottle of tequila. It wasn’t, however, what got him dumbfounded for three whole seconds. It was the person drinking from the group’s shared shot glass.
The group cheered loudly as soon as she put the glass down with a thump.
“Way to go, Grace!” one guy from Matt’s class whose name he couldn’t remember told Grace as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
“I must admit, I never really drink pure tequila, and it tastes, I don’t know, weird. Hot, actually,” she replied with a grin.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”
“Thanks.”
Matt unconsciously clenched his fists as he stood up to march over to where Grace was seated. Before she could say a word, he had dragged her a few meters away from the group.
“Last I remember, you’re supposed to be going home,” he hissed.
He saw her swallow and blink several times.
Good, you ought to be afraid, he thought to himself.
“Well,” she said, raising her chin. “I changed my mind. I want to get drunk.”
“What did you just say?”
He thought he was done dealing with her craziness but apparently, she still had more up her sleeves.
“I already called home and told them I’d stay out late. When I said your name they immediately agreed. Turns out, my brothers adore your band and convinced my parents you’re a good guy,” she said with a smile.
He gave her a mocking laugh.
“And you even used my name so you can stay and drink? Are you high?”
“Of course not!” she exclaimed, offended. “I just thought that, well, watching over me was the least you can do considering what your friend did to me. It’s not easy to deal with heartbreak, you know.”
He rolled his eyes and grunted in frustration. He didn’t have anything to do with her and Nick, and now this girl expected him to take some of the burden.
“Look, I understand where you’re coming from, but I have no time nor interest to be your baby-sitter. So why don’t you just go home and sleep your problems off? I’m sure you’ll feel better in the morning.”
As soon as he finished giving his advice, Matt started to drag Grace towards the exit but she did her best to stay put.
“No, please!” she cried. “Just tonight, Matt. I swear I would never get drunk again. Just…let me drink tonight.”
He turned back to look at her and the sadness in her eyes almost undid him.
“Don’t be stupid, Grace.”
Her eyes became more desperate.
“Please.”
It wasn’t what she said as how she said it that froze him on the spot. It was exactly how Matt said that word a few years ago.
Memories flooded through his mind and for a moment, he forgot where he was and who he was with. He was back in Central Park in summer and he was on the verge of breaking down. He was begging her not to give up. But she had to.
Then he was back at the Pueblo.
Grace was trying to pull his hand off her wrist. He looked down and saw that his grip had tightened that her hand had probably gone numb from lack of blood supply. He immediately let go as if touching her had burned him.
“If you’re trying to kill me, the best way to go about it is through my neck,” Grace said sarcastically after shaking her hand several times. “I understand why you’re worried but you don’t really have to torture me.”
She looked straight at Matt’s eyes. Considering their heights and their distance from each other, it was obvious to Matt that there was no way that Grace could intimidate him.
“Okay, so maybe you don’t want to be responsible. That’s fine. I won’t oblige you. But I’m going to stay here whether you want me to or not. That guy,” she pointed towards Rico, “already said he’ll pay for whatever I drink or eat. He said it’s his birthday.”
Matt watched her saunter back to where his college friends were. He was still shaken at the sudden memory and he took several seconds to breathe and get his wits back. When he thought he regained normal self, he walked over to her, leaned down and whispered angrily to her ears alone.
“I judge whether you’re drunk enough or not. The next time I come for you, you’re going home. No objections. Got it?”
He didn’t wait for her to reply but instead turned his back and went to one of the couches where he could see her clearly. Matt refused the company of every single person who offered to talk, cuddle or sit with him.
From a distance, he looked like the mysterious criminal waiting for his prey to fall victim to his traps. Although anything illegal was nowhere near his mind. He was simply drinking to his own pace, enjoying the company of his thoughts.
And that was how he liked it.
*****
It was almost twelve midnight. As much as Matt wanted to drown out the memories he hadn’t expected to resurface, he had a job to do. He glanced over to where she was and saw Grace happily drinking one shot of tequila to another. Her restless movements indicated the amount of alcohol in her system and her loud gibberish confirmed his suspicions. It was time to bring her home.
She was asking for a refill when he arrived, took the glass out of her hand, and pulled her up from her seat.
“You’re drunk,” he said simply.
“No, I’m not,” she replied without even glancing at him. She was reaching for the glass.
Before she could do anything else he forced her up and ignored her complaints of pain.
“Wait! Ya’r makin’ me dizzy asshhhole!”
She started making gagging sounds and looked ready to puke any time. He didn’t want her making any kind of mess so he half-dragged, half-carried her to the ladies’ room then pushed her head over the sink. Her hair was starting to get in the way so he gathered the strands in one of his hands as he tapped her back with the other.
When she finished, he took his handkerchief out and washed it with water. He gave it to her and let her hold onto it as he guided her to his car.
The Honda Accord was parked near the exit so they had to walk some distance before they reached it. Grace was swaying but it was not a problem with Matt. He had carried drunken men before and a puny little girl was nothing compared to those muscle-ridden athletes.
Matt was about to turn right into the main road when he suddenly remembered a very important detail he missed to ask Grace. Her address.
He turned to look at her and saw his wet handkerchief covering her face.
“Hey. You still awake?” he asked, shaking her shoulders a little.
“Uh.”
“I need your address.”
“I’ll juz tell you when to turn.”
“I’m not stupid. Just give me your address.”
“I dun remember.”
“Oh, fuck it,” he swore under his breath.
He took her bag from her with little resistance and rummaged through it to look for something that indicated where she lived. Matt found an I.D. a few seconds later then took it out of her wallet. He held onto it as he began to drive through the Cultural District.
“I’m not asleep yet, y’know,” Grace said amidst the silence.
“Are you going to chatter the entire time?” Matt asked irritably.
“I thought he’s the perfect boyfriend…Nick.”
She took the handkerchief off her face and stared at Matt. He simply rolled his eyes which Grace promptly ignored.
“I’ve always known he’s a good man and all this time I fancied him in love with me.”
Matt turned on the radio to have something else to listen to.
“Listen to me,” Grace commanded as she turned the radio off.
He turned it on again. “Background music.”
Grace merely pouted but allowed the music to play. He listened to her rant on and on about how heartbroken she was until the car reached her house a few minutes later.
He got out and opened her door. When she didn’t get off immediately, he leaned down to look at her.
She was crying.
Holy hell, he thought as he rolled his eyes again.
“You’re home, Grace,” he said as softly as he could.
“I just…I don’t understand. What’s…wrong with me?” she asked in between sniffs.
“There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s Nick. He’s an ass,” he answered as he pulled her gently out of his car.
Grace nodded. “You’re right. He’s the one with the problem.” She nodded again. “You’re right.”
“Of course, I’m right.” He took a second to look at her then asked, “You’re going to be fine now, are you?”
She smiled. “Sure.”
Matt nodded then turned to ring the doorbell.
Grace tugged at his shirt before he could press the button, however. He turned back at her then raised an eyebrow in inquiry.
“If it’s not my fault, then why can’t I have a boyfriend?”
He was really starting to get annoyed at her but there was a confused, child-like aura surrounding her which made it hard for him to actually yell at her.
“I don’t know either. Maybe it’s not the right time. You have to go inside now.”
His body was already half-turned when her next words stopped him cold.
“Kiss me.”
He glared at her in disbelief.
“Yeah. Kiss me and I’m sure everything’s going to turn out right. Yup. That’s it.”
“That’s it. You’ve gone crazy.”
Matt hadn’t even finished the sentence when Grace suddenly pulled him down and kissed him. He tried to break out of the kiss but she held tighter, as if expecting him to return the favor. He tried again but she moved her lips and for reasons he couldn’t fathom, he was lost.
She didn’t know how to kiss. That much he was sure.
As soon as his mind registered that fact, his lips began to betray him and he kissed her back, claiming her.
It had been so long since he enjoyed a kiss. For one, ever since that fateful day, he had never let a girl get through to his mind and heart. All his dates knew it was casual and short-term. Everything he did was all play—almost mechanical.
But this kiss had feeling, more natural.
And then it hit him.
This was Grace Enriquez. That one girl he shouldn’t be kissing at any given time.
Damn.
He pushed her, breaking their kiss. Matt looked at her as she blinked several times with her hand touching her lips. He took several breaths then turned towards the doorbell and pressed it.
When the door opened, he nodded at whoever opened it, walked to the driver’s side of his car, then left. Without saying another word.