exerts

Exert 2: The ex

Some might be worthy of a name, what can I say.

           The shot glass rumbles and twirls on the wood grain of the bar, catching the light from the colorful bottles on the wall. Micah would have thought that was beautiful, let alone been something she would notice. She noticed everything, all the time. She also would have thought i was despicable. Getting drunk? Well, Micah wasn't here, and she wasn't going to walk into a bar. I stare at the wood, drunk and miserable.
        There was a small commotion at the other end of the bar. I ignored them, a typical beer fight wouldn't last long. "Joe!" The bartender glanced at me, letting me know he's got my attention while he's cleaning some glasses. "Give me another shot of....." I pondered my poison carefully. "Of whiskey, yes, definetly" I said, nodding to myself and fiddling with the shot glass in my hand.
           "Are ya' sure?" He said, jerking his chin to the end of the bar, where the commotion was going on. 
        I dropped the shot glass with a clank and clumsily got out of my seat. There she was, Black hair, green eyes, her strong delicate fist raised above her head and blood dripping from her eyebrow, over the forming bruise on her jaw.
         "Holy shit" I mumbled. Stumbling over to meet her i took in the situation. She had her hand in a fist around someone's shirt and another fist pounding on his face. Her fists where small, but very powerful. I should know. A few feet away and she still didn't see me. Micah was still beating the poor guy's face into a pulp with a right hook. I snaked a hand under her raised arm and dragged her out of the bar. Her eye's widened when she saw me and she strained against my grip but she was trapped and she knew that. 
        She sat on the curb and stared at her busted hand. "Well.... Fuck." She muttered. "I gotta play tomorrow" She breathed a heavy sigh and her whole body seemed heave with her.
        "What the hell are you doing here?" I asked.
        "You get stupid?" she retorhted. "I'm.... running a cake shop, what the fuck does it look like I'm doing?" Micah slurred. "I'm getting drunk". 
        "I noticed" I said rolling my eyes at her sarcasm. "I meant why. You make a literal point to never drink.... like ever. Why now?"
        She stares at the ground. "You, dad, this stupid concert." She heaved again and finally met my eyes. "Why did wee break up again?"
        I didn't want to get into that but she probably wasn't going to remember this tomorrow, judging by her level of intoxication. "I... was tired of not knowing anything about you. You hid too many things from me. Kept too many secrets." I said.
        "Well that was stupid of me" She said, her eyes traveling the length of my body. I gave her a 'what the hell is with you' look. 
        "Are you checking me out?" I asked.
        "Hey!" She said, giving me a stern, reprimanding look. "I am severely drunk right now. I hold absolutely no responsibility to my actions past the point of scotch in there." She swayed and stared at the ground. 'By the way, that stuff goes down smooth". I laughed at her definition of smooth.
        "Come on" I stood up and snaked an arm around her waist, helping her up. "Lets get you home." She followed solemnly and didn't say a word till we were around the corner away from the bar. 
        "I don't wanna go home." She said. Suddenly, her small frame was slipping from my arms and falling to the curb. I looked down and realized it was intentional. I sat down next to her and she leaned her head on my shoulder. "Please don't make me go home, i hate it there. Everyones always yelling and if they aren't yelling, they're sitting in stony silence. I don't like silence." Micah pulled her hand free and started playing a piece she was probably working on for tomorrow on her knee. 
        "What are you playing?" I asked, attempting to distract her from her crappy home life. She loved talking about music. Especially her type of music, classical. 
        "Hommage a Rameau by Debussy" She said. Her fingers started to pick up speed and intensity.
        "Isn't Debussy one of your favorites?" I asked. Her head moved above my shoulder. Her fingers slowed back down again, tapping methodically.
        "His mellow style really appreciates the simplicity of the piano. He really understands how one note, by itself, placed in the right spot, can sound just as beautiful as any other combination." SHe said with a sort of lustful tone. 
        "I don't have to worry about this Debby character stealing my girl, now do I?" I looked at her. Her fingers stopped moving and she lifted her head so that her chin was atop my shoulder. Micah stared back at me, her hands came up behind my neck and face. 
        She shook her head. "Not at all." She whispered. My lips tentatively brushed against hers, teasing her. 'Oh, quite it." She said and smashed her lips on to mine.