Downhill

17

I walked out into the kitchen and immediately winced as witnessed Liz kissing a man I'd never met as Jacque sat at the table.

"Hiya, bitch," I mumbled. I'm sure my eyes were even more bloodshot that these partygoers who got home close to 3:00 am.

"Hey, cunt. You look like shit."

"Thanks," I looked at the new guy. "You must be the other Belgian...?"

"Kyle," he said reaching out to shake my hand.

"Kyle?" I scoffed. "So uh, not from Belgium. Unless there is a Belgium, Iowa."

"Ha, no. I just work...worked there. I'm from Aspen."

"Aspen? People are from there?"

"Yup."

"And then go work in...Belgium? Gotcha. And Jacques, are you from Utah or some shit?" I was very surly this morning. I grabbed Liz's bagel from the toaster.

"No, Brussels," he replied with a French accent.

"Neat. Unless that is Brussels, Ohio," I said with a wink as I grabbed the cream cheese.

"Jacques speaks French," Liz said as if I didn't know that like 40% of Belgian speak French. "And Kyle..."

"Kisses French," I laughed. "I get it."

"I like her," Kyle said giving Liz a playful elbow to the ribs.

"You had your chance," she muttered back.

"Well, it's not like you want to commit..." Kyle started.

"Um, y'all need Jesus," I said shoving a bite of bagel in my mouth. "And I'm not talking about the dude at the Sleven in Midtown."

"Sleven?" Jacques asked.

"Seven Eleven. She's country," Liz explained like I was a mystical French-speaking Coloradan.

"Mmhm. Yeehaw, bitches. I'm going to meditate in my room for a bit and likely Lysol every touch surface. Ya gross."

"Fuck you, Charlie."

"I prefer: Fuck Chuck," I stuck out my tongue at her as I raised my bagel in a toast. "Thanks for le bagel, Lizbo."

Kyle was chuckling and Jacques was stuck mistranslation. I shook my head at the three of them. Liz is going to have to explain a lot to Jacob.

Damn. There I go.

I plopped down on my bed as I angrily ate the remaining bagel. I stared at the wall and tried to motivate myself to accomplish something. But after the bagel was gone, I threw myself back and closed my eyes.

Liz walked in a few hours later. "The fuck, Charles? You going to sleep your day away?"

"Yes. Go away," I said putting my arm over my eyes.

"Dad texted and asked if you made it home. I told him he bored you to death. Sorry I did that to you by the way."

I groaned. We didn't exchange numbers so of course he wrote Liz. I'm sure the text was very fatherly.

"You owe me," I mumbled.

"Yea, and uh, the guys are going to stay on a bit longer..."

"Uh huh, I figured as much."

"It's just that they don't have any..."

"It's fine. Just don't fuck in my room or in the living room. Or dining room. Or hall! Ugh. Shit! Or bathroom! Did I say hall closet?"