My Favorite Sin

by Lina Langley

  He stops short of touching my lips with his and then smiles. “You’re a good friend,” he says. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  Then he puts his head on my shoulder and immediately falls asleep.

  CONTINUE

  I don’t know how long Montgomery is asleep for, but I don’t think it’s that long, because a police officer is soon entering the hallway. They’re loud walkers and only the drunkest among us don’t seem to notice that they’re coming our way. I definitely notice. Montgomery might think this is fun, but it’s not.

  This is scary, and I don’t think I’m happy about having this experience. Cyrus is always telling me to live a little, so I think he’s going to laugh his ass off when I tell him how my night went, but right now, there’s nothing cute about this.

  The officer that’s unlocking the cell isn’t Roberts, at least. He’s older, with dark brown skin, a scowl on his face. He looks around the cell until he sets his gaze on me.

  “You,” he says.

  I point to myself. He nods. “What’s your name?”

  “Alejandro Del Bosque,” I reply.

  He nods and writes something in a little notebook he takes out of his chest pocket, retrieving a pen from behind his ear. “Thanks,” he says. “You can make a phone call and get out of here.”

  I want to ask him if he’s serious, but I don’t want to piss him off. He looks like an easy person to anger and he could keep me here for as long as he wanted. I look at Montgomery, who is now awake and staring at me. He hasn’t even looked at the officer who has come to collect me.

  The officer is standing there, staring at me. “Or you can sleep it off here with your friend,” he says. “It’s your choice, buddy. I haven’t got all night. You seem sober and I’m just doing what my commanding officer told me to do.”

  I nod. I’m about to walk toward him. Before I can leave, Montgomery grabs my hand. “No,” he says. “They’ll release us in a few hours. Don’t worry about it.”

  My eyes widen. “You want me to stay here?”

  “You’re way more fun than these people,” he says, loudly enough for all these people to hear it. “Plus, if you go, you’ll be fingerprinted and searched.”

  “I’ve already been searched,” I say.

  Montgomery backs off, shrugging when he does. The officer stares me down when I look at him. “Decide,” he says. “Now.”

  “Thanks, I’m okay.”

  “I’ll call someone.”

  I don’t think it’s fair to leave Montgomery. I don’t know when he’s going to sober up, and yes, it’s gross and it stinks in here, but I think it’s going to be a lot easier for him if I can stay here with him. It’s the charitable thing to do, I suppose, and Montgomery is my friend.

  Okay, maybe not my friend, but he’s someone I’m friendly with. I have to live with him. I have to live with myself too, and regardless of what’s going on in my life, I’m trying hard to be a good person. If that means staying in this place, which smells like piss and vomit, for a few more hours, then shit… I guess that’s what I’m going to do.

  I turn to the officer and swallow. I’m a little scared of talking to him, but I don’t think I have much of a choice here. I want to be a good person. Even if that doesn’t mean being a priest. Because it doesn’t have to, right? Right.

  Montgomery is still staring at me. I swallow. “No, I’m… I’m okay,” I say.

  The officer’s gaze darts between us, so quickly it would be easy to miss. Except I can’t miss it, because I’m staring right at him, and I think there’s something in that. Maybe I’m reading too much into it. I think I might be.

  The officer shrugs his shoulders and turns on his heel, closing the metal door behind him. He makes a big show of locking it. I’m sure unlocking it didn’t take nearly this much time or effort. He’s looking right at me when he does, as if he wants me to make sure that he’s only doing this to punish me, but it’s because I asked for it.

  Unfortunately, I’m quite aware of that. I get a little closer to Montgomery as I try to remind myself of why I stayed here. Montgomery grabs my hand, his fingers interlacing with my own.

  It’s weird, but I don’t want to jerk my hand away from him. A couple of belligerent drunks have stopped bickering with each other and are staring at us.

  “What?” Montgomery asks. “Do you have a problem with love?!”

  I’m a little afraid, but when they both stop staring at us, I can’t help but snicker. Montgomery shakes his head and begins to tut. “Fucking rednecks.”

  I bite my lower lip. He lets go off my hand, as if he’s suddenly realized what he was doing. “Anyway,” he says. “Thank you for staying. You didn’t have to.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “You really made it seem like I had to.”

  He smiles. “Okay, yeah, you had to. I’m glad you did, though.”

  I smile back at him. I’m about to tell him it’s okay, but then I hear someone vomiting behind me, and the smell of puke fills my nose, so I blink and walk over to the stone bench instead.

  Montgomery has a smile on his face. His eyes are glimmering. “I don’t think you’re going to get much sleep tonight, choirboy.”

  “Yeah,” I reply, licking my lips. “No shit.”

  CONTINUE

  Montgomery is still watching me. I’ve already tried to help him out, but somehow, I’ve ended up detained. I’ve done as much as I can.

  I turn to face him. “I’ll call someone and come get—”

  His expression darkens. “No,” he says. “Don’t worry about it. I can stay the night here. You know, by myself.”

  I clear my throat. I get closer to him, “Montgomery—”

  “Just go,” he says, taking a step away from me. I want to try and convince him not to be childish, but the officer is staring me down, and I don’t think I’m going to be able to do anything to make Montgomery feel better. Things might get a little weird at home and there might be more fighting, but… I don’t think I can stay here. The drunk tank sucks. I don’t know why he even called me in the first place, instead of one of his many other friends. He has a bunch.

  “I’m going to close this gate,” the officer says.

  I can tell him I’m going with him and call someone to get me out of here, which is what I think I should do. I don’t want to be stuck here, in this place which smells so bad. I don’t deserve to be here. I wasn’t even partying when Officer Roberts decided he needed to detain me.

  There’s another possibility, though. I can be quiet and stay. Montgomery might forgive me if I do that. Maybe life will be easier at home if I just shut my mouth and stuck around here.

  Montgomery is watching me, waiting for me to do something. I want to be here and help him, but I don’t think there’s anything I can do for him right now. I’ve already tried to fix the situation and clearly that didn’t work very well. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be stuck in this place with him. I don’t like being in the drunk tank and I don’t know what the real life consequences will be when I get out.

  I do know that I need to get out.

  I do.

  And what Montgomery thinks doesn’t—or at least it shouldn’t—matter. There might be a fallout, or maybe he’s not even going to remember. I don’t know, and at this point, I don’t know if I even care. I’ve done everything that was in my power to do.

  I grab his shoulder and squeeze it. I expect him to shrug me off, but he just looks at me with huge puppy dog eyes, and I feel like a jerk for doing what I’m about to do. “I’m sorry,” I say. “You understand.”

  He looks at me, his eyes wide. It doesn’t look like he understands at all, but fuck, there isn’t much I can do about it. I drop my hand to my side and start walking toward the gate with purpose. I’m on the other side of the gate when the officer closes it. He’s done quickly, which is good, because I don’t know how long I can stick around for while Montgomery has his back turned to me. He’s being deliberate about ignoring me. I’m trying not to let it get to
me, but I can’t help myself.

  I think I might have made a mistake. I don’t think I have it in me to get detained again, though, and I think I would just turn everyone in the drunk tank against me if I asked the officer to open it. The officer is staring at me, waiting for me to move, so I follow him and only look at Montgomery for a long moment, at least until I trip on something in front of me and I’m forced to look at where I’m going.

  I’m at the reception area again, where I’m faced with Officer Roberts. He’s smirking and looking at his fucking magazine. I want to tear it away from him, rip it apart and throw it at his feet. Of course I’m not going to do any of that, I’m not an idiot. No matter how much I want to.

  The officer who escorted me leans back on the wall and crosses his arms over his chest. He’s looking at Officer Roberts, waiting for him to do something. Roberts leans down and unlocks a drawer. “Here,” he says, grabbing my phone. “Call mommy.”

  I grab my phone from him, so quickly I almost drop it. I look at the other officer, who flashes me a small smile. “We’ve found that people rarely know important numbers now,” he says. “So we let them use their phone. Hurry up, though, before everyone in the drunk tank gets jealous of you.”

  Officer Roberts smiles too. It never quite reaches his eyes. “You heard Officer Cooper,” he says, cocking his head slightly.

  I need to make a decision and I need to make it quickly. I’m not calling my parents, because they live abroad and they would only worry about me. I could call Cyrus. I don’t think he’d be mad at me, but I hate calling him for favors—or at least doing it as often as I have lately—and I don’t know if I want to explain everything that has been happening.

  Or I could call Lawrence. I don’t think he’s going to be excited to hear from me, and I don’t know how I’m going to be able to save face, but he did say I could call him whenever I needed something, and this definitely qualifies as needing something. Lawrence has always been my mentor and I think he might even be able to help me figure out where to go from here. It’s going to be hard to lose face in front of him, though.

  I think it’s going to be easier to get in touch with Cyrus. Plus, I don’t think I’m going to be mortified by calling him. I’m embarrassed just by the thought of doing this but doing it and calling Lawrence… fuck. I hate that idea. Cyrus is my friend. He’s going to ask questions, but I know he’s going to try and help me with getting out of the situation.

  He might even get a kick out of it. I unlock my phone and call him. I press down on his photo, trying to ignore the way he’s looking at me. I know it’s just a photo, but he almost looks judgmental.

  He picks up almost immediately. “Hey, Alex,” he says. He sounds sleepy. “You missed me, huh?”

  I want to smile, but I can’t. Any other time, I would find his flirtation endearing. Right now, it’s just making things harder for me. “Yes,” I say. “Listen. I need you to do something for me.”

  He’s quiet. He’s waiting for me to say something else, anything else. I can feel two pairs of eyes on me, the policemen in the room quietly judging me. I want to tell them that this is their fault, that I shouldn’t be here in the first place, but I can’t say anything.

  I clear my throat before I speak again. “I’m at the police station,” I say. “I need you to come get me.”

  “Get you from where?” he asks. I can hear him moving around.

  “The police station,” I say.

  “Shit,” he says. I hear when he stops moving, too. “Are you okay, Al? What happened? Are you hurt?”

  I swallow. “I’m fine,” I say. “Don’t worry about me, seriously. They’ll only release me now if someone picks me up, though. Otherwise, I have to stay the night and—”

  “You don’t have to explain,” he says. “I’m on my way. You can stay over at my place, okay?”

  I blink. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience him, but this seems like the wrong time to say that. “Okay,” I say. “Thank you, Cy.”

  “No worries,” he says. “Hey, I love you. You’ll be okay.”

  I smile. “I know,” I say. “Thank you. I love you too.”

  I hang up the phone and hand it back to Officer Roberts. He’s staring right at me as he puts it back into the drawer. I assume Officer Cooper is the one taking me back to the drunk tank, but he’s not here and I’m sure as hell not going to ask where he is.

  I would really like it if I didn’t have to see Montgomery again tonight. That doesn’t look to be in the cards, because Officer Cooper has suddenly reappeared and he’s walking toward me.

  “Come with me,” he says.

  I swallow and follow him down the hallway. I stand behind him as he starts to open the metal gate. The smell of piss and vomit hits me hard. I scan the drunk tank as I look for Montgomery. He sitting down on the stone bench, looking down at his lap, a drunk man sleeping next to him. He doesn’t even look up at me when Officer Cooper closes the door behind me, the metal rattling.

  “Hey,” I say to him. Montgomery doesn’t look up at me. I know he can hear me, but I want to look at his face. I think he deserves a face-to-face apology, at the very least. I don’t want to kneel down on the floor of this place because it’s disgusting, but I think I’ve already gotten a ton of grime on me, and I don’t really know how much worse it can get.

  I kneel down so I can look up at him. His eyes are wide, his mouth slightly-open. He looks like he might be on the brink of tears. “Montgomery,” I say.

  “What?” he answers, barely meeting my gaze.

  “I’m sorry. I just… I can’t stay here.”

  He takes a deep breath and it makes his entire body shudder. He straights up slightly, which forces me to stand. There’s no room on the bench to sit next to him, so I continue standing, my arms at my sides, as he looks at me. “I know,” he finally says. “I get it.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes,” he says. Then he stands up so his face is only inches away from my face, and for a second, I’m certain he’s about to throw a punch. His hushed tone make his words seem far more desperate than angry, though. “I get it.”

  I want to apologize again, but before I can, he wraps his arms around me and envelops me in a hug. It’s tight, almost crushing. I think this is the first time Montgomery has ever hugged me, and something about it feels off. It might just be because he’s drunk, but he’s never acted like this before. I hug him back, but I try not to hurt him.

  When he speaks, he does so into my ear. “Thank you for coming anyway,” he says. “I didn’t have anyone else to call.”

  I want to question him, but this doesn’t seem like the right time. I’m sure he’s wrong, because Montgomery has more friends than almost anyone I know. Wherever we go, whatever is happening, someone is bound to recognize him. I know he values his alone time, but he’s something of a celebrity. I’m pretty sure he could have called any one of them and it would have been less trouble.

  I move away from him and try for a smile. “It’s okay,” I say. “You know that I’m here for you, right?”

  He narrows his eyes. I think he’s about to say something, but before he can, Officer Cooper is back. “You,” he says. I turn to look at him, my eyes wide. “Your friend must have floored it here, because you’re about to be released.”

  I blink. “Can we both be released?” I say, my gaze darting toward Montgomery.

  “No,” he replies. “He needs to sleep it off. You can stay with him if you—”

  Montgomery practically pushes me away from him and toward the officer. “No,” he says. “He’s going with you.”

  I turn around to say something, but he’s sitting again, once more staring at his lap.

  “Are you?” Officer Cooper asks. I nod, unsure of what I’m supposed to do or say other than agree, and then follow him out of the cell.

  CONTINUE

  Once we’re out of Montgomery’s view, I practically run toward Cyrus. I don’t even care about being in the police station, I’
m just so glad he’s here to pick me up. Cyrus almost loses his balance when I hug-tackle him, but after taking a few steps back, he manages to catch himself.

  He hugs me back for a long second, then pulls me away from him. “Alex,” he says. “What’s going on?”

  I swallow, suddenly realizing where we are. I don’t want to piss the police off again. I don’t want to go back into the drunk tank tonight. I lick my lips, which are dry. “I’ll tell you in the car,” I say, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the door.

  Cyrus follows me, saying nothing. I don’t think I have to pull his hand, but I like feeling his coarse feelings around the skin on my hands. It helps ground me, especially after things are upsetting, and tonight has been extremely upsetting.

  We walk out the double glass door. The night is warm with a breeze. I only turn around to look at Cyrus for a second. “Where did you park?”

  “The police station’s parking lot,” he says. I let go of his hand and follow him, saying nothing. I know it doesn’t make any sense, but I don’t want to say anything close to the police station. I feel like it might get me in trouble again.

  When we finally get to the car, I climb into the passenger door and put my head in my hands. I feel his hand on my shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. I sigh deeply when he removes his hand and puts the car in reverse.

  It’s only when we’re on the road that he speaks. “Alex,” he says. “What is going on? Why did—”

  “I pissed off the police when I tried to pick up Montgomery,” I reply as I look out the window. “Then they said they were going to hold me, you know, in the drunk tank.”

  Cyrus turns to look at me for a second. “With Montgomery?”

  “Yes,” I say. “Then the officer wanted to know whether I wanted to stay with him or leave. I… needed to call you, but he was upset.”