Cough Syrup

Chapter 4: Rationality, Not Really

"So, what did you need to talk to me about?" I asked cautiously. If he knew my plans, this would be a touchy subject. He could call the cops or a suicide hot-line or something. I didn't want to get thrown into an asylum.

Instead, he sniffed me.

"Jesus, E, are you drunk?"

I was dumbfounded. "What?" I asked staring at him, I was taken aback. "No! No, no. I only had a few sips."

"Of what? Pure alcohol? You smell like a bar."

I blushed deeply. "I had a few sips of my Spirytus..." I trailed off. Was the smell that potent still? How embarrassing.

"Wait," He held up a hand slightly with a confused glance at me. "Weren't you saving that for a really important event or something? Like, your twenty-first birthday?" His eyes held mine steadily. When Zach asked a question, he always expected an answer; and that's what he always got, weather you liked it or not.

"I-I, well.. It's been a long day." I finally concluded, looking down at my folded hands in my lap.

I could tell he instantly knew something was not right. "Wow, well. I came to talk to you about a minor subject, but that can wait." He said seriously. His peach lips formed a straight line. Shit. He was concerned. "Can we go to your place? I'm sure it would be more comfortable to talk about whatever is bothering you there. Besides, we haven't hung out outside of school for a while."

I appreciated his concern. But really, he shouldn't waste his time. It's a lost cause.

Than again... You know. It might be nice to tell somebody. God, when I was gone I would miss him like hell. Sighing, I mumbled an "Alright," and defeated, rose from my seat. "Come on." I tossed my car keys in the air, Zach grabbed our Wendy's bags and we both got into our separate cars.

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The drive back was dead silent in my Lincoln. I wasn't in the mood for listening to anything. I had a serious decision to make, and I had to make it now. I could either pretend like nothing was wrong, and just spend a nice evening hanging out with Zach before I had to leave him, or I could tell him what I was planning. Obviously, telling him would be accepting the fact that I might not follow through with killing myself. If I told him, than that would mean he was going to try and talk me out of it.

No, genius, he's going to smile and pat your back and tell you "Have fun, and be brave!" Of course he's going to talk you out of it. And you know he will too, he's always been able to talk you out of anything.

I fight with myself for minutes until I finally decide that impulse will tell me if I should say it or not, and we arrive at my apartment complex. A big sea-foam green sign read, "Welcome to Ocean Reserve" in large white italics. The paint was flaking off from the salty ocean air that California's beach thrived in. Pulling up to the silver box, I punched in 0603, and watched the iron gate slowly slide open in front of me. This place was one thing I would definitely not miss. Especially not my small apartment, the loneliest place in all of my world. I laughed at myself out loud. If I was so worried about it being lonely why haven't I ever done anything about it?

I parked my car under the metal overhang and Zach parked next to me. We walked up the stairs to my apartment in silence. I caught myself wandering how awkward this would be.