by Xavier Neal
“Come on, man. What are you gonna do? Just sit around and wait for Haven like a puppy with your wagging tail at the door?” Lordy speaks up finishing his beer.
“Why do people keep saying that?”
Cracking a smile Lordy nods. “That's a yes.”
Annoyed I groan. “One drink.”
“Good enough.” Glove smirks as the girls return.
We head next door to a nightclub where Glove just happens to know the bouncers, so we get to skip ahead past the line without any effort or paying a cover charge. At least this little mission to get him some tail and Lordy a chance to at least pick up the slack isn't costing me anything more than testing my ability to swallow the irritating club scene.
Once inside, we head up straight to the second floor and to the bar on that level. Following behind the two brunettes who are wrapped around each other, constantly stilling glances over their shoulders of me and Lordy, we linger behind some of those waiting to be served.
The girls decide to go to grab a table for us on the side leaving us to move next to Glove who has managed to shove his way up the bar. To no surprise I hear him say, “I need six shots of vodka!”
Immediately, I lean over his shoulder. “I'm not doing a shot, Glove!”
With a grunt, he rolls his eyes and gently elbows the girl beside him, “Don't you think he should do a shot with me?”
The girl turns and squeaks, “Michael?”
That voice. His name. My attention is now on full alert. This is wrong.
“Mandy?” he croaks back confused.
“Oh my god!” she squeals again this time pushing her hair behind her ear and tossing her arms around him. Since when are they that friendly? Glove shoots me a look. Clearly, he wasn't expecting it either. “What are you guys doing here?” She sees me and smiles brightly. “Did you change your mind?”
The sinking feeling something is wrong hits again harder. Terribly wrong. Swallowing the forming knot of insecurity forming I quickly mutter out, “What do you mean?”
“Haven said that you didn't wanna come.” she bounces in a drunken manner again, this time with Glove's eyes plastered directly on her tits.
I grind my jaw for a brief moment. Keep calm Clint. Keep. Calm. With a heavy sigh I tilt my head to the side and ask, “Where is Haven?”
“Oh she and Michele are right over there.” she points and turns her attention. Quickly she mumbles, “Oh shit...”
Then there's an echo from Lordy and Glove in unison, “Oh shit...”
My head snaps to the side. Like I'm trained to, my vision centers in on her. The sight turns my blood ice cold. I see Haven. I see Michele. And I see the two of them with their lips stuck together. He has one hand wrapped around the back of her neck. Maybe he's forcing her? That's when one of Haven's hands runs down the front of his chest. There's no misreading that. Red. All I see is red.
One minute I'm standing next to Mandy and the next minute my fist is shattering Michele's jaw sending him flying backwards onto a small table, spilling the drinks of a couple who was sitting on the couch behind them. There's an immediate shrieking yet I'm not sure who it is. I want the bastard to get up. I want him to put up a fight. I want his sorry ass to gather on his feet so I have another excuse to lay him down. Lay him out. End him. But he doesn't move. He just lays there. Out cold. Suddenly I feel a pair of hands on me and I know it's not a pair I recognize.
“Whoa. Whoa. I got this Bruno,” Glove insists, ushering me away from the scene. And I go. No objection. No restraint. I let him lead me out of the club though there's still screeching and grumbling about me never returning. No worries there. None.
As soon as we're outside and the cool night air hits me, I let out the breath that I feel has been pent up inside of me all fucking night. That's when I look up to see my brothers staring at me, shock plastered on their face.
Looking Glove dead in the face I say in a calm tone. “Take me to the liquor store.”
With a shake of the head, he carefully says, “Yeah, I don't think that's such a good idea--”
Before he can move, I transfer my weight; shove him up against the wall, my forearm lodged sharply in his throat. Meeting both his eyes I very calmly state, “I don't give a fuck what you think right now. You're going to give Lordy your keys. We're going to the liquor store. I'm going to get fucked up. I'm going to drink until this day never fucking existed. Are we clear?”
I drop my elbow to allow him to speak, “Grim, I--”
Gripping him by the collar of his shirt, I shove him harshly against the brick wall this time with more force than before. “Are we fucking clear?”
He nods. Glove removes his car keys and hands them to Lordy who's had only one beer as well. I let him go and back away slowly. Cool. Level headed. It's at the moment my cell phone starts to ring in my pocket.
Still rubbing his throat, Glove just looks off in the distance clearly biting his tongue. Lordy clears his throat and points the keys towards my pocket, “Uh...you gonna get that?”
I slide my phone out of my pocket to see her name. With a simple nod, I pull back and give the phone a strong throw right into the wall beside Glove who flinches and says loudly, “Fuck!”
Turning my attention back to Lordy, I shrug. “Can we go now?”
Not waiting for a response, I turn and head towards the lot we parked in never looking back. The amount of the adrenaline pumping through my veins is soothing. Familiar. Missed. In fact, the chaos that was rolling around inside me before is dead. Dead as it's ever been. And while it isn't the exact peace that I was expecting. It's familiar. Soothing. Simple. Something my life has been missing lately.
5 Days Til School
Fuck. There's a steady throbbing in my head that won't subside. I groan. The throbbing increases. I've never felt anything like this before in my life. My hands land over my eyes and I drag them down my face in an attempt to rattle myself conscious. Why the hell do I feel this way? In an attempt to sit up, I growl out in pain, my brain pounding. Fuck! It bangs harder against my skull. Demanding an exit. As I open my eyes the pounding increases until I shut them back, resting my head back against...a pillow? A mattress? Where the hell am I?
“Morning, Pretty, Pretty Princess!” a rotten voice croaks out from close proximity to me, answering me my previous question.
I grunt, “Do you have to be so fucking loud?”
“Yes!” His voice rings in my ears like church bells in high definition.
Another growl slips out of me as I struggle to open my eyes once. “What the hell is wrong with me?”
“You my friend are officially hung over,” Lordy's voice joins the conversation in a softer volume. To him, I'm grateful.
Hung over? How is that even possible? The flashes from last night start flicking around in my mind like a broken strobe light, the action too fast, the light too intense, the stimulation too much. Michele and Haven kissing. Knocking him out in that club. A liquor store. A gold colored drink. Whiskey? Whiskey. Shots. And shots. And more shots of whiskey. The thought of the word alone forces my stomach to gurgle in displeasure.
“Have you never been hung over before?” Glove's accusation causes me to finally sit up and muster through the pain that's pumping at me heavily.
“No.”
“Really?” The disbelief in his voice causes me to roll my eyes. It hurts. Fuck. Why does everything fucking hurt? “How are we even friends?”
With another groan, I mutter, “Good fucking question.”
“WHAT!” Glove's jackass tactics appear again. I wince and he laughs slouching back against the chair, folding his hands behind his head.
“Glove, as soon as the room stops spinning, I'm going to tie your vocal chords into knots.” My head falls backwards hitting the back of the couch.
“And until then, this is going to be fun,” he chuckles again this time it's followed by the sound of a door slamming.
A grumble leaves me and I lift my head up to see a curvy brunette with he
r heels dangling from her fingers, a dress two inches shorter than should be legal, and a shit eating grin that means she must have gotten a slice of Glove. Of course she did.
“Oh!” she giggles loudly. I cringe. “I didn't think you'd all be awake already.”
“Well, we are,” Glove wiggles his eyebrows at her.
“You're such a flirt,” she waves a hand at him. “And you.” she points at Lordy. “Mmm,” Her attention then lands on me, “Thanks again for last night, Grim. It was...amazing...”
My eyebrows scrunch together. What the fuck does that mean? What the fuck is she talking about? I didn't....I couldn't...there's no way I would have...right? Not even possible. At the attempt to remember my brain begins to knock against my skull.
“So...” she twirls her body back towards Glove.
“Yup,” he nods his head at her and she exits out the front door closing it quietly. Thankfully.
When she's finally gone my face flushes with panic. “What was she talking about?”
Lordy's eyes shift to Glove. That's when Glove's shift to me. He lowers his arms down to his knees so he's leaning forward, that shit eating grin on his face loud as his obnoxious voice. I don't buy it. No. Fucking. Way.
“You don't remember?”
Slowly I sigh, “No.”
“Oh Grim...” he shakes his head slowly. “Grim...Grim...Grim...”
“I didn't fuck that girl.”
“Well--”
Panic rises. Fast. Steady. “I didn't sleep with her! There's no way I could have.”
“But you don't remember?” Lordy's voice joins us.
Great. Now not only is my head pounding but my body is trembling. Feels like the adrenaline from last night is still woven in with the liquor. My fist clenches. Unclenches. Threatens to smash through their coffee table.
Glove shrugs. “You didn't. You didn't fuck her Grim.” I close my eyes thankful. I knew I wouldn't have done that to Haven. Couldn't have. Not even with her betrayal. “You just stayed up late rambling to her about what a heart broken chump you are. You also let her cry to you about her ex-boyfriend and how she deserves so much better, which led her to my bed. So. Thank you for that. But that...that fear and anxiety you're feeling? Good. You need that.”
Annoyed I pop my eyes back open. “Why do I need that?”
“Because that's the love you have for your girl who you need to go home and talk to.” His words don't even register. In fact it almost feels like his mouth is moving in slow motion and the words are non-existent.
Swallowing chunk of whatever emotion is trying to claw its way up my stomach, I scrub my face once more with my hands. Fuck that. I'm not ready to deal with that. Or her. Or anything really.
I change the subject. “How long is my fucking head gonna be like this?”
“Give it a few hours,” Lordy sighs. “Some greasy food will help.”
The word food forces my stomach to churn. Another groan leaves me and both of them laugh. Assholes. I rub the back of my neck. “God, I could use a work out.”
“When you're back on your feet, light weight. We'll grab some grub, indulge us in some chick flick moment, then hit the gym to watch girls in their yoga shorts bend into sexual positions and call it a workout.” Glove scratches his bare chest. How the fuck is it I constantly see him half dressed?
“Grub? Yes. Chick flick moment? Fuck you. Pass. Gym? Yes. Yoga bullshit? Never.” my response gets a smirk from the two of them. Curious as to what time it is I start searching the coffee table with my eyes. Where's my phone? Confused I ask, “Phone?”
Another smug look crawls on Glove's face. “You mean yours?”
“No shit smart-ass. Where the hell is my phone?”
The remark causes Lordy to toss a zip-loc bag on the table. “You mean that?”
I look at what looks like hundreds of pieces. Shattered. Yet all together in one place. Like reporting for the mission to be my phone again. From the sight in the bag, that looks like a lost mission.
“Remember that?” Lordy's question forces me to fold my arms across my chest.
“Vaguely...”
“Vaguely?” Glove whines. “Vaguely! You almost nailed me in the head!”
“Relax,” I slump against the couch, the throbbing finally slowing down. “You forget why you call me Grim.”
“Not forgotten,” Glove clarifies. “And after what we saw yesterday...I have a feeling there might be a new reason.”
His stab at the situation with Haven isn't missed. But instead of acknowledging it, I close my eyes and shut him out. Shut them both out. Shut out the reality that's waiting for me.
After a short nap on Glove's couch, a greasy bacon cheeseburger, countless pushups, sits up, two kick boxing classes, and a quick stop to buy a new phone, I finally manage to pull into the driveway of my own house.
Not really ready to go inside, I kill the engine and just stare ahead at the garage door. I've had enough time to decide what to do. What to say. Yet somehow I still feel clueless. The chaos that was once very alive, awake once more, except this time, it feels like constant jolts of electricity, frying me alive. Maybe my emotions are trying to short circuit themselves out. Maybe they're trying to kill themselves again. Returning me to the old me. For the first time since I met Haven, I wish I could go back to a time before her.
I exit my car, hands turning the keys around to prepare to unlock the front door when I hear my name. Unenthusiastically, I turn my body around to see Leighyani heading towards me a box with a bow in her hands.
When she finally reaches me on the front steps of my porch, she gives me a wince over. Finally she sighs, “You look like shit.”
Unaffected I state, “Feel like it too.”
“What's wrong with you?”
Nothing. Everything. Nothing that should concern her. Or anyone. “I'm fine. Did you need something?”
Her eyes stare at me. Assessing me. Judging me. Looking for an answer. When she sees nothing more than stone cold Grim, she gives up with a sigh, “Right. I know you're birthday's tomorrow.”
Unimpressed I push, “And?”
“And I got you something.” She offers me the box. I tilt my head to the side and prepare to argue back I don't want it. I don't want anything. In fact the only thing I want I'm going to give to myself and she's standing between me and doing that. “This year how about we just skip the spiel about how much you hate your birthday and birthday gifts even more.”
The corners of my lips threaten to turn up right. I fight it. Pocketing my keys for a minute, I open it and move the white tissue paper out of the way.
Taken back, I let my mouth open. I mean to say something immediately but can't. Frozen. Shocked. Finally when words come back to me I look up from the object and ask, “Where the hell did you get this?”
“I was on a road trip with some friends and we stopped at this cute little antique shop in the middle of fucking nowhere. I saw it and figured what the hell. I knew your birthday was coming and thought you might like it.”
With a glance down at it again, I nod. “I do.”
“The lady said something about it belonging to her grandfather or something. From WWII. Pretty cool huh?”
I look at the antique military blade and nod. Not only did this girl remember tomorrow is my birthday, she got me a gift. Even though she knows I hate gifts. She didn't just get me any gift either. Not some fucking tie or a shirt, but something that relates to my life. To who I am. And what sucks the fucking most? My own girlfriend probably hasn't even realized that's what tomorrow is.
Swallowing the swelling suffering I look back up at Leighyani. “Thanks. This is the nicest thing anyone's done for me lately.”
She shrugs and slips one of her hands in the back pocket of her jeans. They're too tight. But I'm not surprised. “You mean until tomorrow right? No doubt Haven will top me.”
The comment doesn't sound full of jealousy like it once did. Now it says playful. Like she's actually trying. As if we've fin
ally reached the friendship zone. Her bringing up Haven does force me to say something.
“Can I ask you something?”
“No. I didn't sleep with Glove.”
My head tilts to the side a bit surprised she assumed that's where this was going. “Wasn't gonna ask.”
“Oh.” Leighyani ruffles her hair now slightly embarrassed. Whatever. “Shoot then.”
I place the lid back on the box debating should I even risk asking this. But I have to know. I need some insight goddamn it! And sadly she's the only person who can provide it.
“Why'd you cheat on me?”
“Really? I give you a great birthday gift and you wanna rehash this as a thank you?”
“No. It's not like that. It's--” I cut myself off realizing I'm leaving myself up to being vulnerable when I'm not quite sure that's what I want. Fuck it. What do I have to lose at this point? “Was it something I did? Or said? Or didn't do? Or say?” Surprised she keeps her vision plastered on me. “I know I wasn't the best boyfriend while we were together but did I...what did I do so wrong?”
My eyes fall into hers and for the first time we've ever talked about this subject I see something I don't recognize. Regret. Shame. “Honestly? It wasn't you. It was me.” Silence settles between us for a minute. Taking the hint I'm not going to interrupt she continues, “Look Clint, while no you weren't the greatest boyfriend in the world you were the best I had ever had and still one of the best I've ever had.” That makes me almost feel sorry for her. “It's just...it's hard being away from someone you love like that. And for so long. You've always known what you wanted to do. Where you were going. And you would never rethink that for anyone, especially not for me. And I would've never asked you to Clint. But you left. And it wasn't so bad in the beginning with the phone calls and emails. And then video chatting. But then it stopped. I know it wasn't your fault. It's just a fact. But that left me feeling...lonely. Abandoned. Desperate for the attention. Don't take this wrong way, I get that it's hard to be a soldier, but it's hard to be the girlfriend of one too.” Quietly she adds, “But I think when you love someone the way you and Haven love each other, the distance doesn't matter.”