Waiting For Ships

6 - Joe

I ruined it.

The thought swirled in my mind as I tried to bring myself back to life with black coffee, wincing as Logan tossed glass bottles into plastic bags.

I stood on the lawn barefoot, watching as the last of the smoke wafted up from the extinguished fire. The sun was rising hot, prickling the back of my neck as I stood in my silent despair. I'd sent Ingrid home. I told her it was over. But Cara had seen us arguing and Billie left before I had a chance to explain and now everything from last night was stamped out like fire, the smoke lingering but the warmth gone.

Billie..

The person who could banish the pit-of-my-stomach sadness. Stop it spreading from my gut to every other part of my body the way it did sometimes without warning. After meeting her, the sadness stayed away. Now it was back, and I didn't know how to fix it.

I weighed up my options. I could go back inside and mope. Tell Logan I had a headache and curl up in a ball for the rest of the day. Or I could hide under my duvet and marinate in sweat, beer and shame, mindlessly watching whatever shows Netflix offered me. I could let the darkness in. Let it take me prisoner. Punish myself.

I decided instead to stay outside. Tidying up the lawn would keep me busy and quiet the noise. I could get control of my thoughts. Distract my brain until it was ready for a reasonable discussion.

I finished the rest of my lukewarm coffee, riding on the caffeine, and grabbed a bin bag from a nearby pile. Without speaking, I joined Logan in the clean-up, sifting through the remnants of the party. We were both silent. Lost in thought. I needed space. Time to process. I didn't have to explain it to Logan. I knew he'd understand.

I picked up discarded bottles and cigarette butts, throwing the rubbish into sacks with increasing violence. Logan looked up from his work, watching me with concern.

"Someone's not happy," he observed. I glanced over my shoulder. Everyone else had left. We were alone.

"I'm tired, mate. Hungover."

I could feel without looking at him that he was cocking his head to the side, giving me the 'yeah, whatever' look.

I sighed.

"I just feel a bit weird about what happened with Ingrid."

I looked up as he threw his bin bag on the floor and crossed the lawn with purpose. He stood in front of me, folding his arms, his eyes burning into me like an x-ray.

"What did happen with her? I heard you guys talking earlier. It didn't sound good."

"She came into my room when I was asleep," I said, my voice detached from my body. "She got into bed with me and I let her. And then..."

Logan winced, his eyes dropping to the floor.

"You slept with her?"

"No. But..."

He held his hand up, stopping me from finishing my sentence.

"Say no more. So, how do you feel about it?"

I shrugged.

"Confused."

"Because of Billie?"

"I guess so."

"Alright," Logan sighed, straightening his back. "So, you flirted with one girl and ended the night with another. I don't think it's as bad as you think it is. You're Joe Eliot. Billie will forgive you."

"That's not the point," I threw a discarded packet of cigarettes at him. He caught them on his chest and pulled one out, pulling a lighter from his pocket. He lit up and inhaled, throwing the packet back.