Joy

Part 4

Zach: So why am I here if you're not drinking?

I look at Zach leaned at the wall outside. He's slowly drinking a beer. I would empty dozen of those if I don't have to keep my mind straight. Well, at least I can smoke.

Dylan: To help me.
Zach: How? What's your big plan, master?

I would enjoy it if a girl called me that... Then I remember Emma. She was so hot while we were dating. She always called me master. I remember her red curly red hair falling over her face. And then the picture of her crying in front of me. It was a cold night and we were standing in the middle of a park. I was freezing, outside, but she was sweaty because of all the crying. The tears ran her face while she was screaming at me. I smile.

Zach: Dylan!

I look at Zach and snap back in the reality.

Dylan: I don't know yet.
Zach: You don' know...

He rolls his eyes.

Dylan: I don't know. I guess the same as usual.
Zach: And what is your usual plan?
Dylan: Appearing in front of them...
Zach: And then?
Dylan: And then they fall for me.

Zach looks at me- probably not believing what am I saying.

I finally go to the table with drinks and pour in some Scotch. I drink it all and pour some more. I drink again. And I repeat that... a few times I guess. But I'm still sobber and I know what am I doing.

I start walking toward the couches. Theresa, Joyce, and Martha are sitting there. Suddenly, Joyce looks at me. And I'm just standing there- staring back at her. A quick picture of her crying flashes through my head- it would be great to have such control. Then she looks at something at the table and returns to the conversation.

Zach: Assume you need a wingman.

He comes behind me and walks toward Theresa and Joyce. I can hear him talking,

Zach: Theresa, can you come for a sec? You too.

He looks at Joyce. What an idiot! He probably thinks Martha is Joyce.

They leave the room. He's so stupid. They're walking upstairs. The doors up close. I know he wants to help, but what the hell!?

I'm standing in front of the doors. No one is here. I'm starting to panic a bit- what now?

Suddenly, the doors open and Joyce is standing in front of me.

Joyce: Sorry... I...

I don't let her finish and I kiss her. She tries to get free, but I push her against the wall- she thinks she can play with me like that... cute.

Joyce's P.O.V.

I'm pressed between the wall and Dylan. His hands are on my hips. What the hell is happening? That's the only thing I can think of right now. At first, I think of getting away, but I can't move. He's kissing me violently- soon enough, I don't think about anything anymore and I relax a bit.

I only feel his hands on me and his body pressed against mines. The cold wall in the back and him in front of me. His lips are so warm- tasting like... something, I don't know what. Probably some kind of a drink from downstairs.

Suddenly the doors open and Theresa runs out of the room. She looks at us with her eyes wide open.

Theresa: Joyce...

Then I find myself going back downstairs with Theresa.

Theresa: You're one lucky girl, you know?

I'm still a little bit... shook, I guess.

Joyce: What?
Theresa: What?
Joyce: What do you mean?
Theresa: Oh common. Dylan Clark. The hottest guy ever.
Joyce: You like him?
Theresa: Not as much as you do.
Joyce: I don't like him!
Theresa: Then what was that?

I'm confused. She's right- what was that?

Joyce: I... I don't know.

Suddenly, we're outside.

Theresa: Joyce, I'll give you friendly advice.

I'm just looking at her.

Theresa: Don't mess with Dylan. Ever.

I look at her with a question mark on my face.

Theresa: He's pretty much dangerous and everyone who messes with him will regret it.
Joyce: Okay.

That's all I can say. She turns and her creepy snake-tattoo disappears with her.

Martha: Wow. How did that happen?
Joyce: I... I- no idea.
Martha: And, what now?

I'm looking outside the car window. I don't know how Martha's driving, but I can't see anything. I look at Martha. The smile on her face is telling me that she had a great time- but it might be because she finally took those heels off...

Martha: Joyce!?
Joyce: I don't know, Martha. I don't know. Maybe he was drunk or something.
Martha: Probably. I have seen him drinking in the kitchen.
Joyce: What was he drinking?
Martha: Scotch. I tried it today... it was really good.

She smiles. Scotch- not bad. I cut myself thinking about it- I have to stop.

Joyce: Looks like you had a good time.
Martha: And better. I tried every single drink from that table.
Joyce: I've seen that. Are you sure you're sobber?
Martha: Yeah, I ate a bunch of sandwiches and chips.
Joyce: I'm glad you had such a great time.
Martha: We should do this again.

She stops in front of my house. I look at the empty house. Everything is silent.

Joyce: Yeah, we should.

Martha smiles and I leave. The house is in complete darkness. Without turning the lights on, I walk to my room and take off blue jeans and a black shirt. I take my book, but I can't concentrate on the words.

"Don't mess with Dylan. Ever"
"He's pretty much dangerous and everyone who messes with him will regret it."

Theresa's words are echoing in my head. What did she think by that? He did't seem so "dangerous" today. I can't stop thinking about the kiss and that Scotch on his lips. I definitely have to do that again.