Intoxicated

I don't date I just do

DYLAN'S POV

I closed my eyes, reclining the seat an inch further just to hear Brad yelp out from the back seat. "Watch it, loser."

I chuckled softly, leaning back a little more, just to hear Brad cuss. He was getting worked up, clenching his fists as I glanced at him in the side mirror of the pick up truck. I knew Brad would fume if I pushed him too far, so I inched my chair foward. I heard Brad growl under his breath, so I snorted. 

"Come on boys, we're ten minutes way, keep your crap together." Keith was driving. He was the type of focused person who rarely got road rage and was a little naieve then your average 19 year old. He gripped the staring wheel tightly, as if to release all the tension inside him. His brown hair blew in the gentle breeze from the crack in the window of his 1967 Chevy. It was falling apart but he loved it just as much as I loved the two boys that kept my head high.

I glanced sideways at Keith as he gritted his teeth. He worried too much. "Chill man, I can do it this time. No bailing money needed." I smiled as convincingly as I could, keeping my voice as plain as I could. My breath hitched and I knew he didn't believe me. 

His eyes scanned the road, watching the traffic lights change to yellow. "Noo!" He groaned, honking his horn at the traffic lights. "Your shitting me. You said that last time! And what happened? Oh right! I had to bail you out of jail! Are you demented? We shouldn't be going to a bar if you can't hold your liquor and you're going to punch the bar tenders." He finished by blowing a deep breath. Brad chriped up. His smart mouth ran like a dog seeing it's owner after a year.

"Yeah. We can always stay at home. Practice for the football team. Alcohol and girls isn't everything. Okay man?" Brad was pissed again. 

Sometimes I wish you guys would shut your mouths.

I pulled out a cigarette from in the glove box, offering the box to everyone. Brad just glared. "Oh right, you're a nun." I smiled jokingly. Brad flared his nostrils. "Take a joke, Braddy." I watched Brad calm a little, his biceps bulging as if his anger came from his upper arms. 

I turned to Keith who was leaning on the window. The light changed green and he sped off into the night. He knew I was there, he just chose to ignore my offering. "Keith, you want a smoke?"

He scoffed. Keith usually smoked with me. When we were both 16 and had to share seats in High School, we became mates. He'd drive to my house and we'd sneak out the back of my house for a drag on a cigarette. The smoke filling my lungs with relief and happiness. My kind of high. I'd tried weed before but God that stuff got you tripping. I remember inhailing for the first time and coughing my sorry ass off. I perfered liquor to both. Vodka. 

"No man. I don't want one. We're almost there anyway." Keith was upset about something. And I wasn't going to pester him about it either. He'd just nudge me away into another country as he zoned out into another universe. I wished Keith was more open. Like me and Brad were. 

Keith's eyes were drifting closed before the Chevy slowed. We had arrived. "TaN C@Ve" glowed in bright letters. I loved this place more then myself. 

The thick scent of alcohol brushed into my nostrils giving a my head a whirwind. I felt dizzy as the impact blew me away but I stood up and walked over to the bar. My eyes moved from person to person, acknowledging the presence of every being in the overly heated room. The music was some loud trap song I didn't recognize but I made my way to the bar without looking back at Keith and Brad. I knew if I made eye contact with them they'd pull me away from the bar.

A skinny man dressed in a white apron was behind the bar stand. He looked me up and down. "Hey kid, what ya after?" His accent was southern and thick. I could tell by the way he smiled he meant no harm. He wasn't here last time. I was hoping if someone recognized me they wouldn't kick me out,