All My Courageous Lies

Unworthy

I stared up at the tall brick building, admiring what it once was. I used to love going there, to Gavin's apartment. Something about living over a coffee shop seemed so posh – even in our run-down city's square. A year ago, it was so cool that he could already afford to live on his own – well with his best friend anyway. But as I reexamined the scene in front of me, I could feel my chest tighten. It wasn't the safest feeling in the world, knowing that once I walked up the flight of stairs, behind that old white door, I would be alone with him... well and his best friend.

But I knew him well enough back then, and as much as I'd changed, I wanted to believe that if anything made me uncomfortable, he'd have the decency to stop. He'd already promised through texts to not have the apartment smelling like weed, which was a surprised. I suppose making it the only reason I didn't want to go to his place made it that much more enticing for him.

I didn't know what I was going to say. Even as I got out of the car, locking the door behind me, I was still so nervous. I should've told Ayden where I was going. He would've been on red alert. What if I need him?

I took the deepest breath of fresh air I could manage before opening the door to the steep stairway. The hall was old and dingy. Vintage is what I called it before. I rolled my eyes at how stupid and tolerant I was. His door was the first one on the left. Typically, the cracks around the door glowed purple from whatever video game he was playing. But that night, it was a soft orange glow, slowly flickering like a candle. I took another stuttered breath, trying to calm my nerves as my knuckles met the door.

One knock was all it took. The door swung open, revealing a surprised and relieved Gavin, wearing his classic white v neck and dark blue jeans. He always thought he looked best in that outfit.

"Hey! Ash!" His arms opened wide as if he expected me to hug him. My voice was stuck as my eyes took everything in and my head tried to process what it all meant. There were candles, a lot of them. And their T.V. was actually turned off. The living room was the cleanest I'd seen it, even in his dim lighting.

My eyes met back up to his, and I could feel the nerves that built up in my throat clench my jaw shut. He let his hands drop to his sides, and his smile turned a little forced. "Well, come on in, you know you're welcome." Without a word I took a careful step in, searching every corner for a jump scare... or worse.

Instead, my eyes found their kitchen bar, decorated with wine glasses, plates, silverware, and napkins – two of each. There was a small assortment of cubed cheese between the two plates, and a dark wine bottle at the end. I looked back at him, extremely confused. I hoped he'd scheduled a date with some other girl right after our chat...

"Sit!" He pulled out a chair for me and ran off to the other side of the room. I tried to give him a half smile and do as he asked, but I was surprised by his out of character song choice. It was slower songs, still in my genre, but slower. I suppose he could've gone cheesier.

He sat on the bar stool across from me, keeping his watchful, hopeful eyes glued to my every move. "Well?" his voice was pushing cheerful. "Okay, please say something?"

I honestly couldn't tell if he was searching for an atta-boy, or if he was just as nervous as I was. "I don't drink," I whispered.

He cleared his throat. "Right. Well then, more for me." As much as his stiff chest and distraught face made him look like he needed it, I still cringed.

"You see, that's what I mean," I started softly.

"What?"

I gave him a small, trying smile, hoping he didn't take this the wrong way. "I mean we're different! Underaged drinking makes me uncomfortable."