Two Worlds Crossed

Chapter 43

EZRA

A Week Later

I returned to the apartment from dropping Rachel off at the airport since her plane was leaving early in the butt crack of dawn this morning. The company suggested picking her up in a limousine, but she told them no, it felt weird back there, but I remember when we first met since she ran into me and spilled coffee all over me. I had gone to one of those small bathrooms to change. I'm glad I didn't go from the pointless alcohol parties but slowly regret since dipshit Henry went on the trip.

It's almost 7 pm, and god, I fucking miss her already; if she were here with me right now, we would be cooking and dancing in the kitchen with her hands tossing her hair up like she was drunk in a club, but a sexy drunk. I'm not a good dancer, but I try with her. I hear my phone buzzing on the couch as I watch television, and it's Abby. I need to delete her number off my phone, including other people's numbers.

It's October, and I'm not too fond of the cold.*Hi hottie, come over here and party with us. Don't be a party pooper* her text reads, and I roll my eyes before getting up to go for the bedroom. It doesn't feel right going, but I can't just sit on my ass here anymore. Once I head to the bedroom, I go for the closet and grab a pair of skinny black jeans and a black sweatshirt that smells like Rachel's sweet perfume.

...

I pull up to my old dorm house, and there are people outside dancing with all kinds of drinks; as getting inside, I go to the kitchen to grab myself a drink to realize everything is gone so far.

"Hey? Where's the alcohol? It's all fucking empty here," I shout out that many freshmen start looking at me sipping their first drinks, "Check in the living room," one of them tells me. I go to the living room with a thick cloud of smoke coming closer to my face as I walk closer as finding a bucket filled beer and pop open it; I'm about to take a sip of it someone grabs my drink and lifts it to its mouth.

What the fuck, Dude?

I turn around, and it's Olivia drinking my beer when wearing a black dress that looks like it doesn't cover up anything along with knee-high boots, "Are you looking for this?" she asks, takes another sip, and swallows, "Here,   Want the rest?". I sign, "No thanks," I acknowledge her, grab another beer because I don't know where her slutty mouth has been. I'm so glad I moved out of here; I didn't tell anybody that I was because they would've never given a shit if I did. For the past two years, I have lived here despite my mother's choices of begging me to live with her since our house was rebuilt, but it's not the same.

"Miller? Get your ass over here!" Mason shouts out from the living room, sitting on the couch and wrapping his arms around some girl's waist. I sign, walk towards the deep smokey air to him, take a seat next to him, and he puts a cigarette in front of my face.

The smell of smoke almost gave me memories of a burning house and killing someone I love, "No thanks," I push the cigarette away and pull out my phone. As scrolling through thousands of pictures of Rachel and I... well, mostly her; there's one picture of her it's probably my favorite out of many, she's looking out of the window and watching the rain falling outside, wearing my worn out black shirt with a book on her lap. She's so simply beautiful without a trace of beauty.

"Fuck! She's hot," Mason says when leaning over my shoulder and licking his lips; his breath smells like an alcohol cabinet. I stick my middle finger at him to tell him to fuck off; I continue looking through my phone to annoyance around me as Abby and Olivia make out with people on the other couch, and Mason looks like he's ready to puke his brains out. I roll my eyes as I slowly regret coming here and finishing my beer, "I miss you," I whisper to myself as glaring at the pictures of Rachel until Mason grabs my phone from me, "Give that back to me," I yell out so his drunk body can hear.

He swipes through my phone with his finger but stops at a picture I forgot I had of Rachel, "Dude, she's fucking hot. I wish I can hit.."

Don't finish that sentence!

I feel the anger rushing to my bones as my nails dig into my hands, and he laughs when zooming every detail of the picture, "Yeah, I wish I can hit," he repeats, and I grab the collar of his shirt along with his body and push it towards the ground. I can feel blood on my hand as it keeps punching him,
Mason hits me a couple of times to taste my blood, and I can hear people shouting in the back, but I keep doing what I'm doing until his foot kicks in my gut, and I fall back.

"Hey! Hey!" Someone shouts out as pulling Mason off of me, and I get up when trying to see clearly.

...

Moments later, I scrambled to the upstairs bathroom even though I kept falling on every step; I couldn't see shit.  I glanced in the mirror to notice I looked horrible with a black eye and busted lip, "Son of a bitch," I whispered.

I clean it up as best I can, then leave the bathroom; when going back to the living room, their hookers dancing on top of people. I need to leave before one of the hookers thinks I'm a play toy for them, "Where you going?" a guy named Adam asks when a girl swings her leg over his lap and starts doing a lap dance.

"What do you think I'm doing? I'm leaving," I apply, grabbing my leather jacket, phone, and keys. As walking away, Abby steps in front of me with a drunken smile on her face hands me a cup, but I shake it out, "Baby, have a drink. You look a little tensed up but I can help with that," she leans towards my ear and starts smacking her lips on me. Why does she do that good? Abby and I hooked up a few times, but that's the past.

I push her off of me, "Get off of me," I yell out and leave, "Why? It's not like sweet, virgin Rachel will give you anything," she laughs, Fuck you! Use someone else as your fresh meat tonight," I say and leave the party.

What the fuck did I come? I got my ass kicked, can barely feel my lower lip; once putting the keys in the car, I leave the party for once and all.

An hour later, I arrive back to the apartment, all drunk and ruined, but it's not my first time coming home with a black eye; take off my shoes and clothes but leave on my boxers. I'm about to leave until hearing my phone ringing.

*Ring Ring*

"Hello?" I answer without looking who it is.

I don't hear anything in the other line, just someone gulping down its drink quickly. I look at the phone, and it's Rachel.

"Raya? Are you okay?" I question, but she just laughs nonstop, "Hi," she laughs, "Hi,."

"Are you drunk?".

The line goes silent all suddenly as she continues sipping her drink.