HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
that is all.
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Anna bit her lip. She was being surprisingly calm, but confused.
“Why would he kiss you?” I hated the hurt in her voice. Me. I’d caused it. Scott had caused it! After he had kissed me, I pushed him once more in the chest, yelling some colorful words at him. I was confused, too. Why? Why would he kiss me, and so randomly?
I shook my head, sighing, “I don’t know,” I murmured quietly.
I was trying to be honest with Anna. Completely. She was my best friend, and she deserved to at least have the truth. Right after the kiss happened, I called her to pick me up. She cried for a half hour, while I felt like a complete asshole.
“I’m sure Eli didn’t call Nash, I mean… it’s not any of his business,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.
I had also filled her in about Nash, though leaving out the part of his nightmares, and the secrets I hadn’t yet found out. I wanted to keep that all for myself. We stayed up all night talking, and I finally felt like we were the same best friends we were in eighth grade, who told each other everything. I hadn’t spilled about my Mom. Too much for one night, I decided. Or was I just scared to open myself up that much? I didn’t want to dwell on it too much, so I focused on Anna again. She was twirling a piece of her red hair around her finger, looking completely hurt. When she realized I was watching her, she pursed her lips to try and hide her expression.
“Anna,” I scolded, “I told you everything. Don’t hide things from me now.”
“I know, it’s just he told me he loves me,” tears brimmed at the bottom of her eyes and she blinked rapidly, “I was just scared, that doesn’t mean that he has to kiss someone else to prove something,” she whispered.
“Hey,” I pulled her in for a hug, she sniffled loudly.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered, wiping the tears from under her eyes. She put on a determined face. “I will not mope around like some lovesick girl,” she pinched her lips together, “I’ll show that boy,” she muttered almost to herself, already picking through clothes in her closet. I leaned back on my bed. I was worried. Not about Nash, but for Chris. He’d been staying with Lucy these past few nights, because I hadn’t been able to scrape up enough money to pay the heat bill. My mother was…forgetful. Bills weren’t her first concern, neither were her children. I cleared my throat, trying to swallow the lump that had formed. Anna walked out of her closet, dressed as fashionably as I knew she would. With tight dark jeans that fit her like a second skin, and a loose white shirt that was off the shoulder, she made it seem more elegant than it actually was.
I felt impossibly plain next to her, my sweatshirt and leggings I had thrown on the night before looking rumpled from sleep. She smiled brightly at me, and I felt myself sigh in relief. Though Scott was being a douche bag at the moment, I knew the Scott we were both best friends with was in there somewhere.
“Alright,” she clapped her hands together, “Time to go stalk him!” She gathered her things. I looked out her window, the streetlamp shining out onto the street. The moon was already out. “Are you coming to Ras’s party?” she raised her eyebrows at me.
Ras was in our grade, a senior, who seemed to have parents that were never there. He threw parties that even college kids went to. Too crazy for me, too much drinking. I shook my head once, and Anna pouted for only a moment, before hitching her purse up farther up her shoulder. I stood up, brushing off my legging-clad legs.
“Have fun though,” I said, “Stay safe,” I reminded and she rolled her eyes, waving me off with a flick of her hand.
“Yeah, yeah,” she said in such a Scott-way that her lips pinched together, but she soon was moving around her room again, straightening things and putting them in their places.
“Alright, see you later okay?” I waved to her and she waved over her shoulder at me, bended down, her head far into her closet, searching for something.
Driving home, I couldn’t help but be relieved. I still had my best friend, even though the guy she loves kissed me. Who happens to be my best friend. I shook my head angrily, again wondering why. What was the point? Curiosity? That’s a shit excuse. I decided to get Chris from Lucy’s. We could wrap up in blankets, and stay warm. I missed him so much, and I was sure Mom wouldn’t be home tonight either. She’d been staying out later and later, some nights not coming home all together.
“Hi there,” Lucy greeted, pulling me in for a hug. Her floral perfume floated around her house as I ventured further into her warm house. Chris was sitting on the floor, his toy cars in a mess on the coffee talbe. He looked up at me with wide eyes.
“Hey little man,” I grinned, and he hopped up from his spot on the floor.
“Ari!” he roared in his baby voice, tumbling towards me and wrapping his arms around the back of my knees. I ran my fingers through his curls, still grinning.
“Bring him over anytime, alright?” Lucy narrowed her eyes at me and I knew she knew something had happened. What she suspected, I didn’t know. I had been bringing him over more often, though, and she was bound to be suspicious.
I nodded, “Thank you so much Lucy. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I murmured, and she smiled.
“What do you want to watch?” I turned on the small TV in our living room. It flickered once, then twice and finally it came on. I flipped through the channels, realizing that we had lost our cable too. PBS, the news, and a few other channels were all we had left to watch. “Alright, movie it is,” I decided. Pulling out a small box of our few DVD’s, Chris’s hand immediately snatched up The Lion King. I popped it in, wrapping him up in a cocoon of blankets, making sure he was warm. He climbed into my lap, his blankets following him, making him like a bundle of pillows in my lap. The movie started, and he was enveloped in the movie, his eyes not straying from the screen once.
My phone vibrated in my sweatshirt pocket, making me shift Chris over to the side of me. Halfway through the movie and he was half asleep, drool sliding down his chin and his eyes half closed. I muffled a laugh in my palm at his appearance. I wiped his drool with my sleeve, flipping open my phone to answer it.
I walked into the kitchen, keeping my voice low, “Hello?”
“Mmm,” someone mumbled drunkenly, “Aria?” they drawled slowly.
Nash. My heart pounded. Why was he calling me?
“Nash, you’re drunk,” I said quietly, “Hang up the phone.”
“I could tell you the same thing, missy,” said a drunk Nash, not making any sense.
“What does that even –? I’m hanging up,” I informed him, my finger hovering over the end button.
“No wait!” he said desperately.
I needed to hang up. I needed to hang up, right now, and pretend that I wasn’t thrilled that he called me. I shouldn’t be, because he was just drunk dialing me, and I should not approve that he is so drunk. Just like my mother. That was enough to make me almost hang up, but of course, the part of me that wanted to hear his voice for a little longer, won.
“What?” I sighed, peeking out the kitchen doorway to see if Chris was still asleep.
“Can you pick me up? I,” he coughed – he was definitely drunk out of his mind. He only coughed when he was drunk, “I don’t know where I am. I mean – there’s some, ugh,” he moaned and I heard him throwing up. Probably all the alcohol he had consumed. My stomach lurched at the sound. I couldn’t leave him alone. This was it! He needed me. He was calling for my help, not Eli’s, not anyone’s but mine!
“Okay, just tell me where you think you are. Are there people around?” I said, my mind already processing. I’d just drop off Chris at Lucy’s. Then, I’d find Nash. I held the phone to my ear, and cradled it between the crook of my neck and my ear, scooping up a sleeping Chris.
I walked him over to Lucy, her worried face cradling him in her arms, and silently questioning me what was wrong. I shook my head once, smiling, though it was forced. I could hear Nash coughing violently on the other line. My heart pounded.
“Nash?” I asked quietly.
“Oh God, he’s everywhere,” he said in a scared voice, his drunken slur mixing with his desperate tone, making me even more nervous.
“Who? Nash, where are you?”
“Field,” he gasped out, “The field.”
I knew immediately. The field he took me to. The one he left me at. I winced.
“Okay, hold on. Don’t move or drive, okay? I’m coming.”
“I drank too much,” he informed me in a slur.
“I know,” I murmured, “I know Nash.” I was already speeding down the road, my mind racing, my nerves making my hands shake. I had to clench my hands around the steering wheel to keep them from shaking more violently than they already were.
“I should’ve known,” he muttered, “I should have known,” he repeated himself. I had a feeling he was talking to himself. I just kept repeating for him to stay where he was. He should have known. What? Known what? That he shouldn’t have drunken so much? Or… another reason? I made a frustrated noise when the light turned red right when I pulled up.
“You should’ve known what?” I had to ask. It was selfish, and I was taking advantage of him being so drunk. Curiosity made me ask.
He heaved and I jumped in my seat, speeding even faster than I was before, passing the familiar places he had when he’d taken me to the field. My heart was in my throat, his coughing and vomiting making me even more on the edge.
“Nash, it’s okay. It’s alright.”
“That’s what they keep telling me,” he said to me, coughing and spitting, “They keep telling me it’s all going to be okay. No, Aria, it’s not,” he said angrily, his voice not slurring anymore.
“Shh, just stay where you are,” I said, trying not to rile him up anymore than I already had.
Finally I reached it. It was in my line of sight. Thank God. I shoved my door open, leaving my car on and sprinted towards his black pickup truck. He wasn’t in there. I whirled around. He was lying on his back, his eyes bloodshot and staring up at the sky. His eyes were fluttering. I dropped to my knees.
“Nash, come on, let’s go okay?” I shook him once. He pushed himself up, stumbling once but I grabbed hold of his arm and hung on tight. His blue eyes were liquid, alive. The way I loved them. “Are you ready?” he ripped his arm from me, gripping his hair in his fingers.
“Yeah,” he slurred slightly, his expression still panicked. Like he didn’t know where he was.
“Are you okay?” I asked him for the third time after being ignored.
“Mmm,” he barely answered, leaning on me even more than before. I struggled under his weight, holding an arm around his waist and trying to get him to my car. “Wait, wait,” he murmured, dropping to the ground and holding him stomach as he coughed up nothing. I fell to my knees also, gripping his arm tightly, as if that could give him comfort. Feeling helpless, I watched as he coughed and dry-heaved, his eyes squeezed shut.
“Everywhere,” he whispered, “He’s everywhere,” he murmured.
“Who Nash?” I asked him quietly.
He ignored this, stumbling up, and loping over to my car.
Who was everywhere? I groaned in frustration. I was clueless! What did he mean? I got into the driver’s seat, already pulling out of the field, Nash’s keys in my pocket that I decided I’d return to him tomorrow. He was lying on his back in the backseat. I drove in silence; Nash’s breathing filling the car. I lowered the windows to give him fresh air.
Ambulances drove by us and Nash tensed his knuckles white as he clenched his fists. He gripped the seat in front of him; his eyes squeezed shut as though he was trying to erase the sound of it from his mind. Their sirens screamed and his mumbled slurs, that I couldn’t understand or hear, sounded scared.
I drove at a safer speed than I was doing when I drove to pick him up, making our ride longer. He was sleeping, thrashing and murmuring pleas in his sleep. It was painful to hear, I tried to block it out.
His pleading was hard to ignore, however.
“I’m sorry, please,” he panicked, a drip of sweat rolling down his face. He woke up with a start, his breathing labored; he sat up straight, panting. He put his head between his knees, swallowing.
“Nash,” I said in a quiet voice, not wanting to startle him.
His blue eyes, so panicked and scared, focused on me. Nash’s eyes widened like he had forgotten I was here. His eyes looked down towards the floor, the arrogant jerk not present, but the vulnerable scared Nash.
“Hey,” I whispered. We stopped at a stopping light.
He swallowed, turning to look out the window. The muscle in his jaw twitched angrily. He was no doubt punishing himself for showing so much vulnerability to me.
I drove the rest of the way to my house in silence. He stayed silent too, his breathing now controlled and quiet. His hands kept clenching and unclenching, but it didn’t seem to be out of anger. He was not trying to sleep again, I guessed.
I parked my car in the driveway, and he opened his door, only a slight stumble in his step now.
He cleared his throat, his voice clear now, “Well, thanks for the ride. Sorry for the trouble. Won’t happen again,” he assured me, a polite emotionless smile on his face. He was in control now. He wouldn’t be letting his emotions run amuck around me tonight, not after that.
“Aren’t you staying?” I wanted to slap myself. But how else would he get home? He didn’t have a car. I was not going to let him walk, while he was still partially drunk and obviously angry at himself for being so open.
“No thank you,” he said, shoving his hands far down in his pockets and turning to leave.
“Hey! You can’t walk. You live so far away…” I trailed off, my hand still gripping the back of his dark brown t-shirt.
He shrugged, “I’ll survive.”
“Please stay,” I asked him, “Please?”
This seemed to win him over. Why, I didn’t know. But he pursed his lips, and then nodded his head once. I wasn’t thinking clearly. Of course I wasn’t. If I had been, I wouldn’t have let him in the house. I never let anyone in my house. But I lead him up the walk, and let him right into the one thing I tried to hide from everyone.
Beer bottles that made no difference to me now that I was used to them being there, were scattered around the floor. It was as freezing in the house as it was outside, making me get the chills. I didn’t even want to see the look on Nash’s face. There was smashed glass, and messes of things my mother hadn’t bothered to clean when she made the mess while she was drunk.
“Do you…have something to tell me?” he asked tentatively knowing he was stepping into my boundaries.
“No,” I said, my voice too high, too cheerful. Fake. I started to gather beer bottles up from the floor, sweeping up the glass with my fingers, ignoring the way my hands shook and that glass shards were sticking into my hands creating tiny cuts.
“Ugh!” I slammed the glass down onto the ground again, clenching my fists and ignoring the sharp bites of pain I got when I pushed the glass further into my skin.
“Aria,” he said from behind me.
“I’m fine,” I said to myself more than to him, “It’s just these…” I tried again to swipe the glass into my hand, failing and feeling the tears rush to my eyes in frustration, “These damn glass pieces won’t – they won’t…” I was already shaking with pent up sobs, my body wracking.
Could I last one day without falling apart? Weak! That was what I was; and in front of Nash? He wanted nothing to do with me anymore! I couldn’t be crying in front of him.
“Hey,” his voice was gentle and soft. That was my undoing.
“Stop!” I whirled around pushing my bloody hands into his chest, making him stumble backwards. Should he have been sober he probably wouldn’t have budged. “Don’t act like you care. That’ll make me care, and I don’t want to care about you,” I wasn’t sure if he could understand what I was saying, because my words got jumbled and slurred as I cried harder.
He made me go into my bathroom, and sit on the tub. Quietly and slowly, he removed the glass from my hands, his blue eyes calculating and narrowed, concentrated. He put down the tweezers that had been in the cabinet in my kitchen, looking up at me. His eyebrows rose. An explanation is what he wanted. For what, I wasn’t exactly sure; the house in its freezing state, the house being covered in broken glass and beer bottles, or for my outburst. I didn’t answer.
He brushed off his jeans, swiping the glass into the trashcan.
“Where should I sleep?” he asked calmly, like I hadn’t had a total freak out just minutes ago.
“You can sleep in my room, I’ll take the couch,” I got up silently, my cheeks burning. God I just completely broke down and cried in front of him. I slapped my hands to my cheeks. What was I doing?
“You sleep in your bed, Aria,” he rolled his eyes; “I can just take the couch.”
“Okay,” I said softly, not bothering to argue. He was too stubborn to argue with. “Thank you,” I murmured.
“No,” he cupped my face in his hands; my cheeks grew warm under them, “Thank you. I mean it, Aria,” he said to me, his eyes liquid. Bright blue swimming pools staring at me. I nodded silently. He dropped his fingers, leaving fire in their place. “Good night, Aria,” he murmured. He blinked slowly, still looking at me.
“Night,” I muttered. Too much heat in the air. I pushed passed him, taking the stairs two at a time.
I opened my eyes. Sunlight streamed in through the windows. I was about to turn my head into the pillow again and go back to sleep when I remembered Nash. Nash! I shot up from my bed, patting my hair, but it had probably done nothing for my unruly bed head. I sprinted down the stairs.
My heart dropped into my stomach. Gone. His blanket was folded neatly. That was the only proof I had that he had been here. Looking around, I noticed a note. Crumpled notebook paper that seemed ripped out of the sheet. Angry scribbling was scrawled across the page. I dropped down onto my knees, scrambling to pick it up from the ground.
Oh God, no. How? Who told him?
Heard about your little kiss. I think we both know which one of us was pretending to care now. Bye Aria.