Tasting, Finding, Keeping: The Story of Never

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Tasting, Finding, Keeping: The Story of Never Page 42

by C. M. Stunich


  I hesitate a moment and consider walking away. I should walk away. I'm trying to change, really I am, but it is so fucking hard. My hands are cracked and dry, my fingernails rough, and they look ridiculous against the silken perfection of Never's hair. Never. An unusual name, but I like it.

  Time seems to still in that moment, like the hand of the clock is watching us, waiting to see where we take this thing. Where I take this thing. In Never's face, I recognize echoes of my own pain.

  I decide to take a chance.

  “Do you want to dance, Never?”

  I feel the words fall from my lips like drops of rainwater, crashing to the floor in a puddle at her feet. I'd never tell anyone this, but in that second, my words are not a pick-up line, a phrase to weasel my way into her bed. Really, they're not. It might seem that way, but I can swear it isn't true.

  “This is a bar, not a club.” Never looks away from me and fiddles around inside her coat, emerging with a piece of gum. Her reaction deflates some of that strange mystery brewing inside of me. Damn. If she'd only said yes. God, if she'd only said yes. “You can buy me a drink though.”

  Disappointment snakes through me, hot and fast, almost as rapidly as the desire I felt when my eyes first fell on her face. How stupid am I? A sad smile eats at my lips. See what I mean? Fantasy and feelings and optimism. It's all part of a massive charade, a conspiracy against the human spirit. I open my mouth and let the hurt fall out of my lips.

  “Are you sure you're legal?” Maybe she's not, maybe she is, doesn't really matter.

  “Cute. I bet you say that to all the girls.” Never drops her jacket down her shoulders, flashing me smooth skin and a slight sprinkle of freckles. If I said I didn't want my mouth on them, my tongue teasing a path along that perfectly imperfect flesh, I'd be a fucking liar. Unconsciously, I find my gaze drawn down to Never's chest and the gentle swell of cleavage peeking above the fabric of her red dress.

  “Maybe you're right?” I ask, dropping her hair and taking a step back. There are a few ways I could take this. Obviously this girl wants me. In her eyes, I see the same pain that I'm nursing inside of myself reflected back at me. A broken heart winks at me from those hazel eyes, cutting deep into my chest. I could use her, like I always do. I could bury my pain inside of her and go, walk away, steal a slice of relief in the painful stretch of my existence. For a second, a few moments, maybe even an hour, I'll feel like a person again and not like a walking, talking disaster of a human soul.

  But I told myself I'd try tonight, that I'd tilt my head to the side and look at things different, see the world crooked. Lookin' straight ahead hasn't done me any good. I keep my lips twisted into a semblance of an actual smile.

  “Are you jealous?”

  I see a look flash in Never's eyes. She's done with me now. She came here for the same reason I did: to find someone to indulge my addiction, help me hide the pain that's so embedded into my soul that it's no longer just an emotion but now a part of who I am. An intrinsic mark, tattooed on my spirit the same way butterflies are tattooed on my flesh.

  “Hardly.” Never tries to move forward, sweep past me and end this encounter before it even really gets started. For some reason, I decide to fight. Not very hard, not yet. I don't exactly know what it is I'm fighting for, but I will. Someday soon, I really, really will.

  “Want to go somewhere else, somewhere we can dance?” The words come without my prompting. I don't even think about them. They're just there, sitting in the open air, curling around our heads like smoke. I guess Never isn't feeling what I'm feeling. She stares at me, wondering maybe if I'm serious or if I'm just fucking with her. After a second of silence, something shifts in her eyes.

  “We can go somewhere else,” she says to me, stepping forward and rising to her toes. Her fingers press against my chest, warming me in more ways than one. I definitely want this girl. Oh, God, baby, maybe I need this girl to stay sane, but it's not right. It's not right what I do with these women, the way I treat them. A one night stand is different from what I do. I take. Too much. I take their desires, their heartbeats, their breaths and I steal them away. In exchange I leave nothing but rot. Fuck, man. Deep down inside of me I'm nothing but mold and frigging mildew.

  Never's lips press against my jaw, cutting through me with a surge of heat that I want to indulge, take advantage of, conquer.

  “But I don't want to dance.”

  I look down at her and smile. It's a real smile this time. I can feel it in the muscles of my face, muscles that are underworked. They feel stiff, like maybe I haven't smiled this way in years. Too bad it's a sad smile, a goodbye smile. Sorry, Never, but I just can't. Not tonight.

  “No,” I say, shutting down, pulling back, letting this girl go. I feel like I'm doing her a favor, but from the set of her face, the tightness of her shoulders, I don't think she sees it that way. “But that's alright. Enjoy your night, okay?”

  I turn away and spy Korina eyeing me from the pool table. She raises her drink and wiggles her brows. I hope the Europe talk is over and we can get down to the nitty gritty. I have this uneasy feeling in my stomach that I don't much feel like nursin'. A few sips of my beer, some idle prattle with my friends who aren't really friends at all, that'll make it all better. I can go home tonight by myself and just take it easy.

  “Yeah, that's alright,” Never says from behind me. I can hear the anger in her voice, that sting of pain that connects us even at the same time it pulls us apart. I shouldn't go after girls like this, like Never, because we're both so broken, two pieces of ragged glass ready to cut. I can already see the metaphorical blood splatters on the walls. “Because I don't pay for it anyway.”

  “Are you calling me a whore?” I ask as I turn around and shake my head. There are some things I can't deal with. This happens to be one of them. Too close to the truth for comfort. I've been called a whole lot of things in my relatively short life, but this one … man, why'd she have to go there? I feel my fingers curling with anger, but it's not worth it. She's not worth it. “You know what,” I tell her as I raise my arms up in surrender. I've been through so much shit in my life that I know when to quit and when to fight. I've been through crap that would turn most people's fucking stomachs. Life isn't always beautiful; sometimes it's rancid, festering even. In fact, I don't know that I've ever even seen beauty. Just the absence of it. An empty fucking abyss. “Just forget about it. You're not worth it.”

  This girl is gorgeous, obviously full of pain, but I'm the last person on this earth who can help with that. I'm done.

  I turn around and walk away. I make it about halfway to the pool table before her words cut through my skull.

  “Fuck you!”

  I glance back in time to see her burst through the doors of the bar and disappear. There's this slow second, stretched like taffy between my fingers. It curls around me and forces me to hold my breath, to think for the slightest moment that I should go after her. Why? I don't know. This girl's a stranger, a mirror of my own insecurities and fuck-ups. One look at her and I could tell we were demons from the same devil.

  I sigh.

  “Ty, we're getting started without you!” Korina's voice cuts into my brains, draws my eyes away from the door and away from possibility. I don't think I'm ever going to see Never again.

  Thank the fucking Gods that I do.

  4

  Ty McCabe

  I pause next to the table where I left my beer and find that it's mysteriously gone missing. No biggie. Something a little stronger than beer would be nice right now.

  “Hi, I'm Lacey.” A beautiful blonde girl pauses in front of me and thrusts out her hand. I look at it and then up at her before reaching out slowly and grasping her fingers in a firm grip. I think at first that she's here to hit on me, take advantage of her friend's strikeout and try to take me home. I only think that for a split second. “Hey, is Korina single?” she asks, leaning in close and whispering conspiratorially. I try to smile, but it doesn't quite reach my e
yes.

  “No clue,” I tell her honestly, glancing up at the crowd around the pool table. I've forgotten half of these people's fucking names. No clue who goes with who. Don't really give a shit neither. I grin. “But I don't think it would hurt to hit on her.” I shrug and consider asking Lacey about her friend. Either she hasn't noticed that Never's gone or she doesn't care. Either way, it looks like she's planning on sticking around. I watch her move over to Korina, run her fingers down the backs of her bare arms, whisper something into her ear. Korina laughs, but doesn't turn Lacey's way, bending low and taking aim at the colorful balls spread about the green fabric.

  I tuck my hands into my pockets and sigh.

  Shake that shit off, Ty McCabe, I tell myself, lifting my chin and trying to keep my smile fixed firmly in place. The night's young. There's time for more drinks, more girls, more time to forget about all the things in my past that demand to be wiped clean. If I refuse, they'll dig their claws in and bleed me dry.

  I step up to the table and shrug my shoulders to help work out the tension.

  “Next hit's mine. I'm in this game big, remember?” Korina snorts and takes a hit, sends the cue ball into the group and manages to sink a red solid. My eight-ball rules are a little rusty, but I'm pretty sure that means I'm stripes. I grab a pool cue and move up to the table, my mind a thousand miles away from the seedy little bar and the warmth and press of strangers around me. I let my eyes sink closed for a moment, try to pull myself together. God. What was I thinking? If I'm going to pick up a girl tonight it has to be someone who's not so … vulnerable. I shake my head and open my eyes. Maybe in another life, I'd have a girl like that? Maybe I could tilt her head up to look at me, smile into those hazel eyes and find my lips on hers? Maybe I'd really believe in all the things I spend my days wishing were true?

  “Are you going to contemplate the wonders of the universe or are we playing pool here, Ty?”

  I open my eyes and hit the white ball, watching as it rolls across the table and smacks into a blue striped ball. I manage to pocket the little son of a bitch and step back with a smirk, setting the end of my cue against the floor and resting my hands atop it. My bracelets jingle merrily, mixing with the buzz of pop music thumping in the background.

  Korina scrutinizes the table like this game really matters, like it's something important in her life. I've been around the block – more than once – and although I ain't got the saggy balls or the drooping smile, I've got as much wisdom as a man four times my age. Being a teenage prostitute will do that to you, you know? I blink rapidly, pushing back visions of things I'd really rather not relive.

  Never's friend, Lacey, clings to Korina's side, flirting and smiling and trying to hide the smallest stab of pain in her blue eyes. It's nothing like what I've got – or what Never seemed to have – but that doesn't make whatever hurt she's nursing ache any less. I watch this girl throw herself at my pseudo-sometimes-friend and wonder how she and Never get along in their day to day, how they even met. Their vibes are completely different, like trying to mix hip hop with country western. It just doesn't work so good.

  I sigh again. Still thinking about the mysterious beauty in the red dress is a fruitless exercise. Time to move on.

  I look up as the front doors swing inwards, ushering in a gaggle of giggling college co-eds. A smirk ratchets across my face, not a real one, of course, but it's there and I can't seem to stop it. This is what I do, I flirt with girls, fuck them, and then I walk away. I don't feel like a stud. I'm not one of those guys that's proud of what he does. I just do it. I have to do it. It's an addiction, like anything else. I think I need therapy.

  The tracks switch and the pop music's replaced with a hard ass rocker beat that makes my teeth hurt – in a good way, of course. I listen to the lyrics as I watch the girls pause by the bar, leaning their elbows on the scratched wooden surface, lips moving in slow motion as they whisper their darkest desires and their deepest dreams to the bartender.

  “This, this is truth. This is pain. This is us. Can't break what ain't fixed, can't mend what's not torn. CAN'T BLEED FOREVER. CAN'T WEATHER ANY STORM!”

  I raise my eyes up to the roof and the stained white tiles that make up the drop ceiling. This band that's playing, Indecency I think they're called, their lead singer is the kind of guy that enjoys what he does. That likes to fuck all the girls and leave them, break their hearts and forget that the sound of shattering glass is the loudest there is.

  I flip off one of the speakers and glance down to find everyone staring at my ringed hand like I'm a crazy person. And hell, maybe I am? Ty McCabe has never claimed to be sane.

  I grin and notice that the girls all have bright blue drinks in hand now, and they're making their way towards me. So. Great. Awesome. This night's not going to end with the echo of my own words playing in my head. You're not worth it. Broken echoes of a heart that's so black it could never judge. Never judge Never, huh? I smile and drop my hand, rolling my shoulders, and waiting for the girls to make their way towards me.

  I'll pick one of them out, wrap my arm around her waist and watch her fall deep into the dark pit that makes up my soul. In the morning, she'll forget I even existed. In circles I go, on a merry-go-round of fucking shit that refuses to end.

  This is my life. This is the legacy of Tyson Monroe McCabe.

  5

  Ty McCabe

  Not fifteen minutes after I've decided to snag one of the giggly beauties for myself, Korina has absolutely destroyed my ass in pool and pocketed the eight ball. She snags the money from the edge of the table and stuffs it in her bra.

  “I'll take care of the beers as an apology for completely and utterly annihilating your ass in front of these beautiful women.” Korina gestures absently at the girls clustered around me. It could very well be their fault that I lost. They kept feelin' up my ass as I bent over the table and making me wonder why the hell I subject myself to this kind of torture. Twenty bucks down the drain in the span of a few minutes. That's like, three hours of work before taxes. I try not to sigh. If I was still working the street, that'd be like five minutes of grabbing some housewife's breasts. But I won't go back to that, no fucking way. I'd rather leap off the Golden Gate Bridge.

  “You did a good job, Tyler,” one of the girls whispers into my ear. I don't bother to correct her. My name is Ty, thanks. I just toss her a wink and glance around at the other three girls in the group. They're all pretty, but not as pretty as the girl in the red dress. Never. Damn. I guess I really did want to go dancing with her. What would've happened if she'd said yes? Would we still have ended up horizontal and panting? Or would I have given her my number and taken her out for coffee tomorrow? Who knows? The world's full of what-ifs, and if you let them get into your head, they'll kill ya.

  “Thanks, sweets,” I say, trying to decide who I want to go after. I have to make my choice soon or they'll all get pissy with me, call me a player, throw their drinks in my face. Trust me, at this point in my life I know what I'm doing in this scene, know my role as considerate Casanova. I hate to admit it, but in the clubs and bars, it's so fucking easy for me to pick up a girl because they're not used to having a guy be nice to them. That is all sorts of freaking fucked the fuck up. But at least I can go through with it knowing that although I don't want a relationship, that I don't plan on them being anything to me, that I am genuinely trying to be an okay guy. Seen a lot of shit in my day; rudeness just doesn't cut it. Sexist, racist, condescending, snotty bullshit doesn't suit me. I don't play into that crap.

  “Let's get out of here,” Lacey suggests, and I can see Korina is really into the blonde beauty hanging off her arm. She keeps licking her lips and tossing her hair. She might not be there in the morning – same as me – but Lacey must know that. Korina gives off the same vibes I do, only of a lipstick lesbian sort. I smile sadly. “I want to go dancing. Let's go dancing.” Dancing. Fuck. Korina's already nodding and confirming the name of a good club with Darwin. I have two choices. I can either
go along with the group or I can choose one of these ladies and try to get them to go home with me. Thought I had a bit more time before the crowd bailed on me. I don't much feel like being alone right now.

  “I guess dancing sounds alright,” I say, wondering if I might find a girl willing to spin the night away with me. That was my original intention anyway, right? I glance back at the group and see that they're back at the bar again, ordering another round of drinks. Hmm. “Okay, okay, let's do this.” I slip past Lacey and Korina and wait outside, hoping the gigglers won't notice that I've slipped out. I take a moment to light a cigarette and glance up at the moon. I can practically feel the light slipping across my skin, teasing me with a gentle touch and a smile. Bitch. I take a drag of my cig and let my head fall back. My eyes flutter closed and for a moment, I'm not in my skin but somewhere up in the fucking stars. I'm not worrying about how to blow off some co-eds; I'm climbing the sky and looking fate straight in the eye. You wretched, wretched monster, you. I came into this world with a mom who didn't want to be a mom, a dad who didn't give a fuck, and a grandma that I loved but who left too soon. Who decides how the cards fall in a person's life? Hmm? Whoever they are, they must be one sadistic little bastard.

  “Ready to go?” Korina asks as I drop my head and finish my cigarette with a final drag. She has her arm wrapped around Lacey, snuggling up to a stranger. “We want to stop by the convenience store up ahead and grab some cigarettes and stuff. You cool with that?”

  I shrug.

  “Cool with me.”

  Nobody here has a fucking car. We either walk or ride the bus. That's it. Well, okay, everybody but Lacey. I don't know a damn thing about that girl. Anyway, the store's just a few blocks away, so we walk together in a group, making small talk, laughing about nothing. The cold air stings my skin and my bracelets ring with each step I take, closing the dark distance between the club and the store. Everyone but me's loaded up with alcohol, leaning on one another and stumbling down the pavement.

 

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