by Perry Matlin
Without even thinking about it, I reach over and grab my phone. I dial his number, without even realizing what I'm doing. When he picks up, I'm almost surprised to find myself on a call with him.
"Hey Luke, what's up?" Michael says into the phone, and I smile at his voice. He really is a great friend.
"Hey Michael, I just cooked dinner, but there's a ton of leftovers; would you like to come over to help me eat it? We can watch a movie after or something?" I suggest. I hear him laugh through the phone, before a knock echoes into the kitchen. I stay on the phone, as I rush to the door, and let him in. He still has the phone pressed to his ear, when he passes me to come in.
"Well, I gotta go, so I'll talk to you later. I'm eating dinner with my best friend" he says, before hanging up on me. His words make me smile.
Following me into the kitchen, I make him a plate, before joining him at the table. He looks down at the meat, and the sides that I made with a surprised look on his face. That's when I remember that I didn't grab anything to drink with dinner. I look around, knowing all too well that the only thing to drink is some cranberry juice. My bladder aches with the thought. I know cranberry juice is really healthy, but my bladder is so sick of it. That's when I see it. I knew it was there, but I never even thought about drinking it because it was his. The scar on my left side aches slightly, as his angry face fills my consciousness. My mom's soon-to-be ex-husband would kill me, for drinking his bottle of alcohol. I actually don't know what kind it is because I've always been so scared to open it, or even look at it closely. I jump up from my seat and run across the kitchen. Stooping down, I grab it from inside the fake plant.
Michael sees the bottle in my hands, and the look that must be written all over my face because he smiles up at me with adventure in his dark blue eyes. Sitting back at the table, I reach for the stack of red solo cups that my mom has on the middle place mat.
"I figure he won't notice because he lives in a different state now" I tell him, and he looks at me questioningly. "My mom's ex hid it there, and he left, so... more for us I guess" I laugh, and he laughs along with me. I quickly open the bottle, before reading what it is. Apparently, we're about to try melon vodka for the first time. An idea strikes me, so I run back down the hall, and into my mom's room. I know she'll still have some sprite under her bed because he liked it. The signs of his absence are almost staggering. My mom hasn't let him go, nor has she decided to try.
Grabbing two, I run back to join Michael at the table. He is looking at me, like I've lost my mind. I quickly open the cans of soda, and the bottle of vodka, before mixing them into the two cups. I swirl the contents gently, just to mix them together, before handing him his very own vodka tonic.
"This is going to taste like shit" he tells me, before tipping his back. I watch him drink it, before tipping it back myself. I feel the liquid wet my throat, just before I taste the vodka. It tastes different. Not exactly nasty, but not pleasant by any means. I shudder, as the alcohol floods my esophagus. I turn to my food and begin to make my way through the meal I cooked. We eat in silence, for a while. I look up at him every so often and find him intently eating his food. He is so cute. I picture kissing him in that moment. I wonder what his lips would feel like, what they would taste like.
After we finish eating, I lead him into the living room, the bottle in my hand. We've abandoned the sprite and are now taking turns drinking directly from the bottle. I plop down on the couch, before reaching behind me to turn the lights off. From my seat on the couch, I turn the TV on, and begin to flip through the channels. I eventually come across a horror movie and set the remote beside me. Michael comes to sit next to me, before taking another large gulp of the vodka. It's so weird how the bitter taste seems to have dissipated. I reach over to take the bottle and our fingers brush. I look at him quickly, but he's absorbed in the movie, his eyes almost glowing in the dark, as they intently watch the horrendous events of the movie unfold before us. I look away, before he catches me, but the feeling in my stomach from when our hands touched, never leaves me.
I turn my attention back to the movie, as I take a big gulp of the vodka. I realize that we've downed half the bottle. Ignoring the voice in my head, the one that says we should stop. The one that is reasonable in saying that I've never experienced the effects of vodka, so I don't know my limits. The voice that keeps getting in the way of what I want to do. I ignore that voice and take yet another sip. The movie finally ends, and I realize just how badly I have to pee. I go to stand up, but I've been sitting here drinking non stop from a bottle of vodka, and I've never drank before, so when I stand up the room spins. I drop the bottle, and vaguely hear it shatter, as I fall back to the couch. Michael is hovering over me, but he's in no better shape. I realize that I got him drunk, and now he is going to get into trouble. I begin to freak out, but Michael is trying to comfort me.
"Lucas, it's fine. I asked my mom if I could stay the night. She said it was okay. We can just sleep out here. Come on, I'll help you to the bathroom" he offers, and I smile at him. He helps me to my feet, but we're both plastered at this point, so we're stumbling, and laughing through the darkness. I think to myself how lucky we are that neither of us cut our feet on the broken bottle. We finally make it to the hallway, and I reach over; drunkenly turning the light on to make it a bit easier. Only a few more steps to the bathroom. He turns the knob, as soon as we make it there, and we shuffle inside. I lose my balance, as we round the corner, and the bathroom sink breaks my fall. My hand knits into his, as I fall, but even after I regain balance, I continue to hold onto his hand, and he doesn't seem to protest. In fact, he is smiling at me, drunkenly, but smiling, nonetheless.
He leads me over to the toilet, and I pretty much fall onto the seat. Screw standing up to pee. I can't stand. He stands there, as I undo my shorts, and pee, but for some reason, it's not even awkward. As soon as I'm done, he helps me up, only for me to turn around, and collapse to my knees over the toilet, so I can throw up the contents of my stomach. Finally, I'm done with the toilet, so I crawl to the doorway, and fall against the open bathroom door. Looking back at the toilet, I see Michael is able to stand to pee. I let my head fall back against the door, and I close my eyes, just so I'm not being some kind of creep. He finishes peeing, before staggering over to me, and helping me back to my feet.
We struggle back down the hallway, and finally make it to the living room. Climbing over the arm of the sectional, as to avoid the broken glass, we crawl onto the couch. There are already pillows and blankets because my mom has been sleeping out here instead of in her bed, ever since Antonio left. We're just getting ready for bed, when he removes his shirt. I look over at him, as my eyes fall upon his bare chest. The only thing he's wearing is his boxers. My eyes linger there, for a moment. I look away with a smile, as he catches me looking. He moves over and begins to make his bed. I'm in no condition to move, so I wait for him. He eventually finishes making his part of the couch, and then he comes over to help me. I can see how drunk he is, but for some reason; I am so much worse off, and I will probably be so embarrassed in the morning.
Michael stands over me, as he prepares to get me ready for bed. He reaches down to pull me to my feet.
"You are so hot" I say, in my drunken state. He looks down at me, as his dimples reappear. I can tell that he's flattered by my outburst.
"No like, you have the prettiest eyes, and your body. My God that body" I tell him. Each time I say something, I instantly regret it, but he just smiles.
"Let's get you to bed, and we'll talk about it in the morning, okay?" he asks, as he pulls my shirt over my head. I look back into his eyes, as soon as the shirt is free of my body. I’m still wearing an under shirt. He keeps my gaze, but then I feel the wave of nausea. I look away and put my hand over my mouth. He seems to know what is wrong because he produces a trash can from the side of the couch.
I throw up even more than the first time, as he holds the can under me. When I finally finish the second round, I col
lapse backwards. Michael disappears for a moment, before showing back up with a dripping tooth brush full of toothpaste. I quickly brush my teeth thoroughly. He really is a logical thinker, even when he's drunk. I spit into my puke bucket, before collapsing onto the cushions behind me. Michael finally joins me, after cleaning up around us. I know he's still drunk, but he just hops onto the couch, and turns to look at me. I stare right into his burning blue eyes for a few minutes, as he stares right back. The feeling between us feels so strong in that moment, that he leans forward. I can see what's coming seconds before it actually does. Every kiss I've ever seen on TV plays before my eyes, as he leans forward and presses his lips to mine.
We break apart, and he turns away from me. Within seconds he is fast asleep, but I'm awake. I'm awake, and I'm sober. I'm completely sober now because I just kissed him. I go to stand up, before realizing that I'm not completely sober, in fact; I'm still completely drunk. I lay back, and try to get comfortable, but I'm nowhere near tired. I'm replaying the kiss over and over again in my head. The feeling that went through my entire body, as he kissed me was so... magical. I close my eyes, and try to imagine a world where that kiss, that perfect magical kiss led to something more. He probably won't even remember in the morning, so it won't go anywhere. I was confused about my feelings for him, but I know now. I know that I may be falling in love with him. I think I'm falling in love with Michael. I'm falling for my best friend, my only friend, and I'm not sure how he feels. The confusion is so thick right now. Maybe tomorrow, we'll talk about it through our hangovers. Maybe tomorrow we can kiss again. Maybe tomorrow won't be so confusing.
Chapter 7 Infatuation
I roll over onto my side and look around. I'm lying on the couch in the living room, and the smell of alcohol is strong in the air. Forcing myself into a sitting position, I look over at Michael. He's still asleep, but the thing that catches my eye is the smile on his face. Is he smiling because of that kiss last night? Did kissing me make him happy? The thought makes me giddy. I quickly debate waking him up, so I can watch for any indicators, but then I realize that if I'm hungover, then he sure as hell is, and I'm not about to poke a sleeping bear. I swing my legs off the couch and stand to my feet. As soon as I put my body weight on my feet, I hiss in pain, and fall back onto the couch. What the hell is that? I lift my foot off the floor, and instantly see all the blood running down the side of my foot. I hiss in pain again, and it seems to wake Michael up.
He sits up and looks around. When he takes in the scene of my bloody foot, he does a sort of double take, that looks so cute. I smile at him, as he cocks the head to the side like a puppy or something. He then seems to absorb the sight of blood before him.
"Oh shit, the broken glass" he moans, jumping to his feet. He carefully avoids the glass, as he runs down the hall into my bathroom. I'm just sitting here like a mental patient, until he comes back with one of the dark towels from the bathroom. Rushing over to me, he jumps over the arm of the couch, and lands on the cushion just beside me. I look down at my foot, as he tightly wraps the towel around it. It sears with pain, but it's not intolerable. He looks up at me, as he's putting pressure on my bleeding foot, and the moment presents itself again, and this time I take it.
I lean over my bleeding foot and press my lips to his. At first; he stays still, not reacting. Then he kisses me back. He leans into the kiss, and his lips are warm against mine. It's such a new feeling, a feeling of life, of breath. The kiss leaves me wondering what my life has been before this moment, before this magical moment where my soul has finally awoken from an eternity of sleep. I wasn't even alive, before this kiss. Everything before this magical moment, is just a distant memory, and everyone before Michael is just a faded ghost. A ghost of a life that never really mattered. I'm brought back to reality, when the pain peaks again, and I break the beautiful kiss between us. He looks at me, and I can tell that the kiss was everything to him as well. It was a life-changing moment. It was the moment, that I found the love of my life, my soulmate.
"Are you okay?" he wonders aloud, as I clench my foot again. I nod briefly, before pulling the towel away from my wound. Now that the blood is gone, and I can see the cuts clearly; I see that I have two pretty deep cuts on the bottom of my feet. A single shard of broken glass is still lodged in my skin, so I reach down and pull it out. Instantly the pain eases significantly.
"I'm so much better than okay right now" I say simply, as he smiles at me. He moves in to kiss me again, and the bliss comes back full force. The pain disappears, and I'm all alone with him. We're everywhere, but nowhere at the same time. I snap out of it, when someone knocks on the front door. My head bolts to the side because the living room smells like alcohol, and I'm not even supposed to be staying here.
I jump up but feel the pain in my feet. Michael grabs a broom and begins to sweep the floor. I grab all the blankets and run to the bathroom. I turn around to hiss directions behind me.
"Tell whoever it is that we came inside so I could take a shower, and I let you sit in the A/C" he nods in agreement, as we head in opposite directions. I jump into the shower and decide to really take one. I briefly realize that Michael is still covered in the scent of alcohol. I tense up, as I begin to wash my body. Listening for the voice of whoever it is. I hurriedly finish washing, and then let the hot water rinse the soap off of me. I angrily turn off the water. I usually let the water surround me for a while. I love showers. I hop out of the shower, ignoring the pain in my foot, as I quickly wrap a towel around me. I crack the door to the bathroom and see that my house appears empty.
I race to my room and lock the door behind me. I quickly drop the towel, and race to my closet for some clothes. I look through my clothes for a minute, before realizing that all my clothes suck. I pick out a pair of white shorts, and then move to where all my shirts hang. I pull my favorite red and white striped polo down. Slipping it over my head, I quickly finish getting ready. As soon as everything is finished, I head back to the bathroom to brush my teeth and put deodorant on. As I'm turning the water off, my phone begins ringing. I dash out of the bathroom and find my phone on the floor beside the couch. As I answer it, I note that the battery wasn't charged last night, and it's going to die soon.
"Hello?" I ask, as I place the dying phone to my ear. It's silent for a moment, before I hear his voice.
"Hey Luke, it was my brother. Do you want to come over for pizza? I'd really like to talk to you about this morning" he explains. I smile, before nodding. "Are you there?" he asks, after a few seconds. I realize that he couldn't have seen my nod. I laugh at myself before answering him.
"Uh, sure. What time should I come over?" I ask, looking over at the clock on the wall. It's nearly two o'clock in the afternoon. Did we sleep that late?
"Yeah, how's four?" he asks. I can tell that he's smiling too. I almost just nod again but catch myself.
"That sounds good to me. Can't wait!" I tell him, and my stomach does a flip again. He says goodbye, and I'm left alone with my thoughts once again.
I lock the door behind me, as I head over to Michael's house. I'm a couple minutes late, but I'm sure he won't mind. I was watching some TV, and lost track of time because I can't stop reliving that kiss, those kisses. We've kissed three times now, and it seems to get better each time it happens. I smile longingly, as I knock on the door. I only have to wait a few seconds, before his brother Stephen opens the door to allow me in. I've met him a few times, but we aren't close.
"Come on in" he tells me. I smile up at him. He's the same age as my older sister Crystal, maybe I can hook them up. Stephen leads me into the house, and I see Michael sitting on the floor by the coffee table. There is a couch on the right wall of the living room, and a love seat parallel to the front door. Michael is situated right in front of the couch. He looks up as I come into the room. A smile breaks across his face.
I cross the room, and quietly sit down beside him. He is playing the video game on the TV. I look over at the screen, and try to pay attenti
on to the game, but I can feel the heat from his body. I sit there, oh so aware of his body. His lips, his eyes are just beside me. It takes all of my will power to keep my hands off of him in front of his family. His mom and dad come in at that time, and I can automatically tell that they're not getting along.
"Momma, where's the pizza?" Stephen asks, jumping up to put an arm around his mother. Their dad makes a face, and mutters something under his breath, and Stephen looks at him disgustedly. I've grown up around this kind of situation, so I know the warning signs.
"Cecil, please don't talk to our kids like that" their mom says, and he just turns to look at them.
"Go to your rooms" he barks at the room in general. Stephen heads down the hall. I can tell that he wants to argue, but this man is intimidating. Michael stays put. I look over at him expectantly, but he just pauses his game, and turns to look at his dad.
"That means you too Michael" his mom tells him, looking at the two of us with a defeated look of dread in her eyes. I can see the sadness in her face. There is no fear, so I'm led to believe that it's not physically abusive unlike my mom's past relationship. Michael jumps to his feet, and I follow suit. He angrily turns the game off and slams the controller onto the couch. His dad snaps his finger, before taking a few steps toward Michael. I grab Michael by the arm and pull him. He glares back at them, as he leads me down the hall after Stephen. I can hear music coming from the first door on the right and assume he's in there.
We walk past there, and Michael turns into another room. I'm just about to start feeling really bad for him, when I see the room is very small, and has boxes piled everywhere around a small hospital looking bed. That's when he shows me the door to his room. Closing the door behind us, I walk into a large room with windows all along the back wall. To my right there are even more windows. I round a corner, and see that he has his own door, and even his own bathroom. There's a desk with a flat screen computer, and even a plasma TV is mounted on the wall. I look back at him, and he smiles at me, before turning the music up loud. I know the technique. Too much screaming will make anyone turn their music up. That's when he turns around to face me. I stand there in the middle of the room; as loud rap music fills the space between us. He fills in that space.