WHY THEY LEFT (#Wattys2015)

10. A Couple Cans Of Whoop-Ass

Danny
Roll Out by Ludacris

I tried to will myself to sleep. She left, so what? Still it was seemingly impossible to drift off when I still felt her on my skin. I buried my face into my pillow only to breathe her in. Throwing it off the bed, I sighed, pushing my hair out of my face. Reaching over to my bedside table, I pulled out the bottle and shook two into my hand. Cocking my head back, I swallowed them and put the bottle back.

Jesus, I'm starting to eat them like fucking M&M's. The mattress let out a wheeze of protest as I collapsed back onto it and stretched out. Then I did my steps to falling asleep. I think of the beach house my grandpa owns in Florida. I close my eyes and fall asleep remembering the sand stuck to my damp skin as I lay on the shore, waves rushing up my legs.

****
I didn't dream, the pills I take tend to suck me into a black hole. A black hole that I was still halfway in when my phone rang and I fumbled around for it. I grabbed it from the table but it slipped out of my hands and fell to the ground. "Shit," I breathed, picking it up. "Oh that's great," I mumbled, staring down at the cracked screen on my IPhone. To my immense pleasure, I was still able to revive calls from work. "Yeah," I answered, holding the cracked glass a little ways away from my ear.

"Well you sound like you're in a good mood," Hank chimed in cheerfully. I rolled my eyes, not acknowledging what he'd said. "How ya feeling, kid?" He asked. I leaned back against my headboard, tussling my hair with one hand, my other holding the phone.

"I'm alright. Why? You need me today?" I asked. I knew the answer. Yes, of course we need you today! It's Friday, silly boy!

"Well," Hank came in on the other line. "It is Friday."

I shook my head, letting out a sigh. "Already on my way." I hung up directly afterwards and looked down at what I was wearing. Boxers. So I was halfway already there. Standing up from the bed, I slipped into my jeans and pulled a stained white t-shirt over my head. Sliding my belt through the loops, I stumbled into my Chuck Taylor's. I grabbed my keys and my broken phone, which would be broken for awhile. I didn't have money for that kind of thing, I barely had enough money for gas to get to work and food to keep me alive.

My dad had gotten up and went into his room sometime during the night, I remember hearing his drunken slurs and door slam. I covered Rosalie's ears, I didn't want her to know. Grabbing an apple from the kitchen table and my leather jacket from the floor, I left the house.

Jacket slung over the passenger seat, I held the apple between my teeth as I drove, taking bites out of it as I stopped. When I pulled into Hank's Auto Repair Shop, Hank was already in the parking lot waiting for me. "Hey boy! Good to see you!" I waited for it. "High school boy needs his wheels aligned on his," Hank looked down at the clipboard he was holding. "BMW Z4 Convertible 2014 model edition. Whew, that's a mouthful."

I rolled my eyes just at the name of the car. What "school boy" can afford a car like that on his own? It's not like he's earned it. "You got it, Hank," I said, grabbing a worn hand towel from the rack and threw it over my shoulder. Hank handed me the clipboard as I walked into the garage. I called out the name on the clipboard and then froze. Jake Hudson. I remembered it from somewhere.

I felt something stir in me as the guy approached, and I eyed him up and down, from his Letterman jacket to his sandy blonde hair. Jock I was guessing. "Your Jake?" I asked, more out of surprise than anger.

The guy nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "It's Jacob for you though, handyman." I narrowed my eyes at him, sizing him up. Sure, he probably worked out, but nothing compared to my Repair Shop Hell everyday. I stepped back, clearing my throat. "Don't disrespect the customers, especially ones with money," Hanks voice echoed in my head. So I shook it off, stepping back another step to look over his papers.