Miss, Do I Know You?

08 - Saturday, October 10

Olivia peered into my room with confusion plastered all over her face. "Why are you still in bed?"

I let out a sluggish yawn and pulled my headphones off. Despite the hours spent napping and doing nothing productive, a deep-seated weariness persisted. To say that my life was stagnant would have been an understatement. It was something beyond that. An infinite loop of mundane noise or me drowning out everything that wasn't useless static. My brain couldn't handle much more than that lately.

"Mm?"

"Shouldn't you be getting ready?"

When I noticed that we shared the same confused expression, I pulled myself into a sitting position. "For what?"

Her eyebrow arched even higher. "Sophia's 18th birthday party?"

"I don't think I'm invited," I said. All I'd done was marinate in my gloom, in bed, which didn't leave room for any social planning.

"Yeah, right. It probably just slipped your mind. Do you have something better to do anyway?" she asked, to which I replied with silence. Olivia must have sensed my hesitation because she grasped my hand and yanked me out of bed. "Come on. Let's break you out of this rut you're in."

"Liv, I just want to lay in bed and—"

"And what? Smoke yourself to sleep?"

"I just..." I groaned. "I don't know."

Concern softened her expression. "What's up? You need xan?"

"I have some left, but not much." I sighed. "But does it really matter if you're planning to get me drunk?"

"Now that's what I'm talking about." She grinned, pushing me across the room. "I can get you more next week. Get ready."

I shook my head in mock annoyance before giving in entirely and rummaging through my clothes. "You're insatiable."

"Come on! When was the last time we went out together? Let's have fun. Make up for all the time you spent stuck at work."

Glancing at her eager face, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. Olivia was right. My social life had been suffering for a long time, and most importantly, I needed to relinquish the hold Alex had on my thoughts. It was a disservice to myself and to life in general, being that easily influenced by someone so intangible and confusing.

Despite my reticence, there also was a tiny spark of anticipation that tentatively warmed me up to the idea. I knew it was time to put one foot in front of the other and get back into the swing of things. What better way to start than with a night out with my best friend? I chose to see the party as my opportunity to spend some quality time with her, which was something that had been sorely lacking due to my self-imposed isolation and usual lethargy. A chance to cast aside my worries, which I desperately needed.

And it turned out to be a really great time. The night went by in the blink of an eye, leaving me pleasantly surprised to find my initial hesitance completely gone. My laughter came easy, fueled by the lovely burn of alcohol and the occasional puff of marijuana, and conversation flowed naturally with those around. Between all the introductions, it felt like I had met half of the town.

There was something therapeutic about that blend of joy and inebriation whirling within, or the sweet agony pulsing in my feet, and how it all sentenced the anxiety and grief to some far corner of my mind where it could rest alongside all the pests and dusty boxes in my unending hall of storage. I just wanted to keep laughing, keep talking, and keep drinking until inevitable sleep would take over and see me through the entire night for once.

The change of scenery from my usual Toronto company was a refreshing shift, though eventually, a break became crucial. In my tipsy waltz through the house, I chanced upon a closed door at the end of the corridor. But instead of relief for my drunken bladder, within I discovered Sophia with a guitar in her lap, her face lit up by a phone screen.