Avoidance

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Avoidance Page 8

by Kristen Granata


  “Now I just have to blend it,” she murmured, patting my face with her ring finger. “There. All better.”

  I took the compact mirror from her bag, and looked at my reflection. “Wow. You’re good. You have to teach me how to use that stuff one day.”

  We were seated at a table outside under an umbrella. The sun was shining, as per usual, and mostly everyone sported giant, expensive sunglasses.

  I was the only brunette at the table. I knew Michelle, but was meeting the other two girls for the first time. Their nails were perfectly manicured, hair flawlessly coiffed; I looked down at my own short unpainted nails, and wondered if I would end up like them if I stayed here long enough.

  “This is Merritt.” Brooke pointed to her two friends. “This is Lauren and Stacy.”

  “Merritt, that’s such a unique name,” Lauren said.

  “Thanks.” I laughed. “I don’t have a cool story about it or anything. I don’t even know where it came from.”

  “Ask your mom,” Stacy said matter-of-factly.

  “Dude, her parents passed away.” Brooke looked at me apologetically.

  “Way to go, dude.” Lauren shook her head.

  “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” I said quickly, seeing Stacy’s embarrassed expression.

  The waitress approached us, pad in hand. “Good afternoon, ladies. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Let’s do Mimosas!” Lauren suggested, her eyes wide with excitement.

  “Five Mimosas, coming right up.” The waitress left our table in a hurry.

  “So, did you live in Manhattan?” Michelle asked.

  “No. I was about twenty minutes away in Staten Island.”

  “That’s one of the four boroughs, right?”

  “Five, yes.”

  “What’s it like there?” Stacy asked. “We’ve been dying to plan a girls’ trip to New York for the longest time.”

  I shrugged. “It’s hard explaining it when it’s your home. The things that excite tourists don’t seem all that awesome to us. Manhattan is definitely full of things to do. Staten Island is much more residential.”

  “You don’t look like you’re from Staten Island,” Lauren stated. “I thought everyone there looked like Snooki.”

  I laughed once. “No, she’s definitely one of a kind.”

  The waitress returned, placing a tall champagne glass in front of each of us. After she took our lunch orders, conversation bounced around from New York, to makeup, to hair extensions. I stayed quiet mostly, sipping my drink that continuously got refilled each time it was found empty. It was only when I stood to make a trip to the restroom that I realized how much I had actually drank.

  “Whoa,” Brooke said as she steadied herself. “How long have we been sitting here?”

  “Five Mimosas too long,” I replied. We walked arm-in-arm to the bathroom, giggling all the way.

  “I like drunk Merritt,” Brooke called out in the stall next to mine.

  “Why’s that?”

  “You loosen up more, you laugh more. It’s nice to see you like that.”

  “Geez, am I that awful to be around when I’m sober?”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” She flushed, and began washing her hands. “I can tell you’ve been through some shit in your life. It makes me feel sad. I like seeing you happy.”

  I emerged from the stall, and looked at her in the mirror. “Thanks. I appreciate you inviting me out with your friends. It’s nice to feel like I have someone out here.”

  She put her arm around my shoulders. “I got your back, dude.”

  “Ditto,” I replied.

  An hour later, I clomped up the stairs to my apartment. Tiredness had swept over me, and I could not wait to crawl into bed to take a nap being that I had a few hours until I had to be at work. I pushed open the door and made a beeline for the kitchen to grab a water bottle. I chugged half the bottle, and rummaged through my purse for aspirin. Suddenly, a shadow looming behind me startled me.

  “Oh my God, Chase!” Water spilled all over me as I squeezed the bottle in fear. “What are you doing here?”

  “I live here,” he laughed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “Well, you failed.” I continued looking through my purse.

  “What are you looking for in there?”

  “Aspirin. My head is pounding.”

  “Where did you guys go for lunch?”

  “Tutto… tutta… I don’t know. Tutta-something.”

  “The place with the red umbrellas?”

  “Yep. That’s the one. Aha! Found it.” When I flipped open the cap, the bottle slipped out of my hand, and pills spilled all over the floor. I groaned, covering my face with my hand.

  “Why don’t you take these,” Chase handed me two pills from the floor. “Go lie down, and I’ll clean these up.”

  “It’s okay. I can help.” I crouched down next to him, picking up the small pills that were scattered everywhere.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t drink tonight.”

  A knot formed in my stomach. “What are you talking about?”

  “I don’t know. You’re taking up day drinking now, for starters.” He half-smiled, trying to appear casual.

  “The girls ordered Mimosas with lunch.” I tried to sound just as nonchalant.

  “Hmm.”

  “Why the furrowed brow?”

  “It’s weird seeing you like this.”

  My head jerked left to look at him. “Like what?”

  “Drunk.”

  “I only had a few glasses. I didn’t realize how badly they were going to hit me until I stood up.”

  He wore a hint of a frown. “That happens when you’re sitting the whole time you drink.”

  “I’m just so grateful to have Brooke and her friends taking me under their wings.” I put the cap back on the bottle and stood, tossing it into my purse. “It feels like I belong.”

  Chase sighed as he stood, and put his arms around me, hugging me to his body. “I know it’s hard being here without Shelly.”

  I nodded against his chest.

  “Are you taking a nap?”

  “Yeah. I need to have all my energy for later. Lie down with me?” I took his hand, but he pulled back.

  “I can’t stay. I have to head back out to the studio. We took a lunch break. I figured I would see you for a little while, since I won’t see you tonight.”

  “You’re not playing here tonight?” I whined.

  “No. I’m sorry, babe. The next night we have off, I promise I will take you on a nice date.”

  “I don’t want a date. I just want to be with you.”

  He tucked a curl behind my ear, and kissed my lips. “And I just want to be with you, too.” He looked into my eyes. “Try to take it easy tonight, okay?”

  My eyebrows pushed together. “Take it easy?”

  “You already had drinks at lunch. I know customers at the bar can get pushy wanting you to take shots with them, but you don’t have to.”

  “I know.”

  “Good.” He kissed my forehead.

  I thought about saying more, but I bit my tongue as I looked into his beautiful, concerned eyes. I did not want him to worry about me with all that he had going on.

  I knew I didn’t have to drink with everyone who offered to buy me one; I knew I didn’t have to drink at all… but I wanted to. A small voice inside my head tried to warn me that I was in trouble, but I was able to silence it once I laid down on the bed.

  Everything would be fine once I slept it off.

  Chapter Seven: Going Under

  Weeks passed since Chase brought up my drinking. I had barely seen him; we were like two ships passing in the night. He would come home from recording at the studio, or a meeting with the record label, while I was leaving to start my shift. I often came home to an empty apartment, and woke up in an empty bed. He had been playing at various bars around LA, and would slip in sometime after three in the morni
ng. I knew he had to stay after his shows ended to socialize; I knew our relationship would take a back seat to his music career; I knew it would be difficult not spending time together. What I did not know, however, was how dangerous it would be for me to be alone.

  Before my accident, I had spent seven years focusing my time and energy on taking care of my father. There was no time to sit around and wallow in my sadness; I never experienced feeling carefree, or let loose with my friends. I went to school, babysat in the evening, and came home to cook, clean, and pay bills. I was a child living an adult life. After the accident, when grief reared its ugly head, Shelly and Chase were there to take turns occupying my time – I was never left alone for long. Falling in love with Chase made me so happy that I never found the need to numb my pain with anything else.

  Now, I found myself craving the one thing that I had learned could soothe my entire nervous system in just a few gulps. I had found a way to detach myself from any and all emotions – and I did not want to stop. Reality would sink in the next day when I woke up sober, but I knew it would only be a few hours until I could drown my demons all over again.

  Hiding it from Chase was easy, but it was the worst part. I wanted to prove to him that he had nothing to worry about, but the temptation was difficult to resist, as I was around it every night. At the beginning of each night, I told myself that I would stop, only to break that promise to myself less than an hour into my shift. Just one shot, I told myself. Before I knew it, I was on my third or fourth. The water level was rising quickly, and I was about to go under.

  “Bottoms up, bitches!” Brooke shouted.

  Dave and I, along with her entourage of friends, clinked our shot glasses with Brooke’s.

  “You’re working on my birthday,” Brooke complained. “Philip’s working. This sucks!”

  “You’ve got all of your friends here with you!” Dave offered. “Don’t frown. You’re too young for Botox.”

  “We’re in LA. You’re never too young for Botox,” she replied with a smile.

  “I’ll be on the dance floor in spirit.” I poured her and her friends another round of shots. “Take this as your parting gift. Go have fun!”

  It was a busy night. I felt good turning down three requests to do shots with customers. At eleven o’clock, I felt my phone buzzing in the back pocket of my jeans. Shelly had texted me three times, and was now calling. Something had to be wrong.

  I pointed to my phone, motioning to Dave that I would be back. I closed the door behind me as I stepped into the stairwell.

  “Shell, is everything okay?”

  “Good thing I wasn’t dying. I texted you a million times.”

  “I’m at work. What’s going on?”

  She took a breath, hesitating before she spoke.

  “Just tell her,” I heard Brody in the background.

  “Shelly,” I warned.

  “I saw your mother today.”

  Acid instantly pooled into my stomach. “Where?”

  “I was coming home from class, and I saw her waiting outside of my apartment.”

  “How does she even know where you live?”

  “I don’t know. It’s freaking me out, though. Thank God Brody was home.”

  “What did she want?”

  “She was looking for you. I told her you didn’t want to talk to her. I told her she had a lot of nerve coming back here.”

  I rubbed my forehead, trying to breathe through my anger. “I guess that means she’s staying somewhere on the island.”

  “I took her number down. I know you don’t want to call her, but it was the only way she would leave.”

  “Did you tell her I don’t live there anymore?”

  “I didn’t know what you wanted me to say, so I just told her you moved out of state. She was surprised.”

  I laughed once. “Not as surprised as we all were to see her! Why won’t she leave me alone? She ruined everything when she came back!”

  “What did she ruin? You’re living in The Golden State with the man of your dreams.”

  “Yeah. It’s really golden here.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing.” I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling annoyed.

  “I knew I shouldn’t have told you.”

  My temper flared. “You absolutely should have told me! You’re supposed to tell me everything!”

  “Am I? Like you’re telling me everything?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Nothing. Go have another drink. Forget I even called.”

  The phone beeped in my ear. When I looked at the screen, the call had disconnected. Shelly hung up on me.

  When I returned behind the bar, Dave was pouring Brooke and her friends another round of shots. I slid another glass over to him.

  He raised his eyebrows at me. “You okay?”

  “I’m fabulous.” We clinked glasses, and I succumbed to the desires of my rage.

  Three shots later, I was feeling better. I kept checking the time, wondering when Chase would step through the door. The customers shouting drink orders had finally died down, all of them now bumping and grinding against each other on the dance floor. This was the perfect time to take my break. It was stifling in the packed bar, and I needed some air.

  “Dave,” I called. “I’m going outside.”

  “Take your time,” he shouted back.

  It was difficult getting through the crowd, and the buzz from the shots did not help as I was unsteady on my feet. I used my elbows to push people aside, clearing a path for myself until I reached the front door. Outside, the warm breeze felt cool against my dampened skin. I watched as half-naked girls puffed on their cancer sticks, laughing and shouting at each other as they passed by. I missed hanging out with Shelly, and I felt guilty for arguing with her earlier. She was calling to let me know what happened with Claire, and I had no right taking my frustrations out on her. I tapped out a text, but then deleted what I had typed; it was late, and I would call her in the morning to smooth things over.

  I felt calmer than before with the alcohol now numbing my senses. I knew it was wrong, but I preferred this version of myself. Why feel wound-up and anxious, when I could feel relaxed and at-ease? Maybe this is why everyone living in LA seemed so laid-back – they allowed themselves to have fun and feel good.

  Five minutes later, I was back inside pushing my way through the mob again. I felt like a pinball, knocked around from side to side by everyone dancing to the beat. There were no openings to squeeze through. As I shoved people aside, a fight suddenly broke out next to me. One man swung at another, but he missed. The other man rammed into his midsection, and I was thrown to the ground as they fell down on top of me with their beer bottles in hand. I shielded my face from the broken glass, and all the pairs of feet stomping around me. I tried to push myself off the floor, but a sharp pain went through my left hand.

  “Get off!” I screamed at the men who continued the scuffle on the floor.

  The next thing I knew, I was being lifted off the floor. Two familiar arms scooped me up and carried me behind the bar, setting me down into a chair. I looked up to see Chase.

  “Oh my God! Merritt!” Brooke’s shriek was loud as she came running.

  I stared at my hand that was now throbbing, and saw a large glass shard sticking out of the puffy skin under my thumb. After my father’s suicide, I did not do well with blood. The room started to spin, faster than it already was due to the alcohol. I felt very faint as I watched the blood drip down my wrist. Moisture filled the back of my throat, like it often did right before I was about to throw up.

  “Do you think she needs to go to the hospital?” I made out Dave’s concerned tone behind me.

  “No hospital,” I managed to get out. I could not take my eyes off of the deep read streaks against my skin.

  Chase pulled the glass out of my hand without warning, and wrapped a clean rag tightly around my wound. I winced as he finished the knot.
/>   “Sorry, baby. It has to be tight.” His hand cupped my chin, gently raising it until my eyes focused on his. “Are you alright?” He offered a halfhearted smile. His lips were inches from my face, and they served as a pleasant distraction from the pain.

  “There’s blood...”

  “Take her upstairs,” Dave ordered, for me more than Chase.

  “N-no,” I stammered. “My tips...” I attempted to stand, but my knees refused to cooperate.

  “Easy, girl. Dave’s got your tips. You’ve lost some blood – you’re coming with me.” Chase put his arm around my waist, hoisting me out of my seat, and carried me up the stairs to our apartment.

  “Please don’t take me to the hospital.” My voice sounded small, like a child.

  “You might need stiches if the bleeding doesn’t stop.”

  Several minutes later, Chase was kneeling on the bathroom floor, while I sat on the lid of the toilet. I squeezed my eyes shut to avoid seeing the bloody mess on my hand when he unwrapped the towel.

  “You must think I’m such a baby,” I shook my head, feeling embarrassed.

  “Stop. There was a lot of blood coming out of this tiny hand. I’m sorry I couldn’t get you out of there sooner.”

  “I’m just thankful you did. I was getting trampled. That must be what it feels like shopping on Black Friday.”

  He raised my hand to his lips, planting a kiss over the bandage. “There ya go. All better.”

  “Thanks, babe.” I went to stand, but felt lightheaded. I held onto the towel rack to steady myself.

  “Alcohol thins your blood. That’s why your hand was bleeding so much,” he said.

  I put my hand on my stomach. “Seeing that blood made me feel so sick.”

  “You sure it wasn’t the shots making you queasy?”

  I looked down at the floor, guilty and unable to make eye contact with him. I did not want to see the look of disappointment on his face. The checkered tile squares began swirling together, and I had to squeeze my eyes shut to keep the spinning at bay. Saliva reappeared in the back of my throat.

  “Merritt, I’m concerned–”

  Dropping to my knees, I lifted the lid to the toilet seat as quickly as I could. Waves of vomit began erupting from my stomach. I felt Chase pulling my hair back from my face while I heaved my guts up into the toilet. I wanted to shoo him away, though I knew he would not listen. This was not something I wanted him to witness.

 

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