Not Like the Movies

Chapter Eleven

     The music is so loud, I can feel it vibrating in my stomach. The light from the hallway allows me to fumble for the speakers, but I can't find the power button, so I just end up wrenching the cord out of the wall. I slap the wall next to the door, and luckily hit the light switch. The small apartment is flooded with a harsh fluorescent light. The silence is complete.

     When I first opened the door to Gyver's apartment it had seemed pretty trashed, but now, with the lights on, I can really see the apartment. It is completely and utterly trashed. Furniture is overturned, a bookshelf lies on the floor with books scattered around and under it, and Gyver's magazine collection lies in ripped pages around the room. 

     I don't see Gyver at first, but when I do, I almost wish I  hadn't. He's sitting on the floor with his back against an overturned couch and his legs braced against the wall. In the sudden light and silence he turns his face towards me. There are black streaks down his cheeks, as if he dragged his hands over his eyes and smeared his eyeliner. 

     Seeing me, he jumps to his feet, slurring, "What're you doing here?"

     I realize that he's holding a nearly empty bottle of vodka. He takes a swig and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. I step towards him to take the bottle out of his hands before he drinks anymore, but he misunderstands. He staggers towards me with a slurred, "Want some?"

     He's more drunk than I've ever seen him before. Trying to offer me some vodka, he stumbles over the corner of the bookcase and lurches towards me. I try to stop his fall by grabbing his arm, but he instead flings his arm over my shoulder. I arch my back as he accidentally pours the rest of the cold pungent drink down my back. 

     He suddenly seems to actually recognize me for the first time, but I seem to make him even more confused. He asks me repeatedly what's going on as I guide him to his small bedroom. He slumps onto the bed and I pull off his boots. He leans back into the thin mattress, still asking me what's going on.  It's not the first time I've had to deal with him completely drunk, so I don't really know why he's so confused. 

     All of a sudden, he lunges past me out the door. He staggers into the bathroom, and retching noises follow him. From experience, I know that vodka burns twice as bad on the way back up. I'd like to say that I follow him in to make sure he's okay, but I don't. Instead, I go get him a glass of water from the fairly undamaged kitchen. I can deal with drunkards, but not with puke. 

     On the way back to the bathroom, I trip over the second bottle. The second bottle of vodka that Gyver completely drained, all by himself. No wonder he's so sick. 

     Once Gyver passes out on his bed, I call the Big House from his phone. Ariadne picks up the phone.

     "Hey, it's Talia," I say.

     "Hey," she replies, "Do you need a ride home?"

     "Uh... no thanks," I look around the trashed apartment. Gyver's going to hate himself when he wakes up, he always does when he gets totally drunk, because he doesn't want to be like his alcoholic and abusive father. "I think I'm gonna spend the night here at Gyver's. He got really drunk and trashed his apartment."

     There's a long pause on the other side of the phone call. "If I were to hazard a guess," she says, "I would say that Granny will freak if you spend the night at a guy's."

     I sigh. "Ariadne, he has a boyfriend."

     "He's gay?"

     "Yeah," I say with a little smile. She sounded utterly amazed.

     "One second." I can hear her footsteps through the phone as she, presumably goes to ask my grandmother. "She says you need to come back to grab something to eat before your exam tomorrow."

     Leave it to my grandmother to remember my exam schedule. "Allright then," I answer, "See you then."

     "Goodnight, Talia."

                                                                   * * *

     I wake up cramped and smelling like vodka. I had flipped the couch right side up to sleep on it, but the rest of the apartment is still trashed. From the bathroom I hear sound that Gyvers awake--puking again, but awake. I pick my way across the living room and switch on the coffee maker. Luckily there's coffe already in it, because with the apartment like this I wouldn't be able to find anything. 

      After a while he walks into the living room and grimices. Seeing me, he says, "So this really happened."

     I just look at him. "Hoping it was a bad dream?"

     He walks past me into the kitchen, smelling the coffee. He stops in his tracks, looking back at me. "Wait, have you been here all night?" he asks me.

     I nod, and sit down on a stool with the kitchen island between us. He puors two cups of coffee and slides one over to me. He sits down across from me, pulling his sweater around him. This is the Gyver I'm familiar with: no makeup, hair a mess, in just jeans, t-shirt, and sweater. I all for leather and studs and eyeliner, but sometimes you just need to relax.

    "Sorry you had to stay," says Gyver. He sounds kinda ashamed.

     "You drank almost two bottles of vodka by yourself and completly ripped apart your apartment. God knows what you would have done."

     "I was pretty drunk, eh? I can sure feel it this morning."

     I look at him. We've gone through this before, and there's always a reason for him getting so drunk. Every time, I get him to tell me and we work it out together. I keep staring at him.

     He squirms in his seat. "I went clubbing last night," he states.

     I stare at him increduously. "How? You're not eighteen yet."

     "Johnny, that's my... ex-boyfriend got me a fake ID." I can't help myself from snorting a little. Yup, a sure sign of a great boyfriend is someone who gets you a fake Id and takes you clubbing when you're underage. Gyver continues, "One of his friends was there, and he was totally drunk. Johnny went to the bathroom and his friend told me something."

     I lean forwards in my seat. Drunk people telling you secrets in clubs is never a good sign. Gyver takes a deep breath, and spits out, "He told me that a few other of Johnny's friends bet him that he couldn't get me to go out with him." he looks down at his coffee before continuing. "Johnny was making thirty bucks a date."

     "Oh my god, Gyver, I'm so sorry." I can't believe that this guy Johnny had led Gyver on for so long that he made Gyver fall in love and get kicked out of his house.

     He doesn't meet my eyes. "He's not even gay. He was in a long-distance relationship with some girl in New York at the same time."

     I get up from my chair and circle the island to where Gyver's sitting. "I'm really sorry, Gyver." I hug him from behind. I can feel his uneven breaths, but I don't want him to cry. It seems like for the past few days I've been crying non-stop. "He's a douche."

     Gyver nods uncertainly. "You're right, Tal." I give him a little smile, and happen to glance at the clock. 1:30.

     "Crap, Gyver, our exam starts soon and I have to check in with my grandmother." I pull him to his feet. While he pulls on his jacket and boots I grab my copy of Animal Farm from his bag and shove it into my bag. 

     As we run down the stairs of his apartment to the parking lot, I'm just thinking about how lucky we are that Gyver has a car. I need to change as well, I smell like stale vodka. We'd better get going.