Drowned
Chapter 3
The moon was its peak. Engine's roar subtly as the roads became murk with the tint of night.
Gavin had his eyes on the road the entire drive. His hands panned in and out on the steering wheel, dodging glances every time our faces crossed one another.
It was quiet. The only noise I could hear was the muffled skee of the tires, and the constant fidgeting of his legs matched with finger taps on the wheel. He looked pressed, and every time he pinned on the gas, the engine sparks. And, when we finally got to a red light, he snapped. "Why did you say that?"
"Say what?" I immediately answered back; even if I already knew what he was referring to.
"You know you can't say that right? What if he finds out?"
But why do I have to be the one to know?
The silence I gave was not enough. Gavin pulled his car to the closest gasoline station afterwards and parked. The moment he locked the handbrake in place, his eyebrows narrowed down.
"What if Matthew found out that I am fucking his girl? What's that gonna—" In a slip of a tongue I answered, "It's not my problem is it?" Before he even got to finish his ramble.
"No... no! You just threw both us into the fire Jason. Don't come to me like you had nothing to do with this. Because if you never said anything earlier, that whole thing would never have happened."
"He won't know Gavin. You're overreacting," I replied, brushing him off.
"And why are you so sure of that?"
"Fuck it." Slamming on the window. "Because we're both losers Gavin! No one will ever suspect a thing about you and Lila because we're not like those guys that she'll be into. Face it. She's just using you for sex. That's it," I stated.
He took a moment to take all of those words in, and once all of them registered, he took a deep breath and leaned back on his seat unbuckling his seatbelt. "I need some air." He shook his head, opened his door and got out.
I could use some air too.
So I got out of the car after him, but we went in the opposite direction; while he went to the public restrooms, I on the other hand decided to go to a nearest store to buy something to quench my thirst, and maybe reflect. Pondering why I ever agreed on coming tonight. I should have listened to my thoughts—I just should have listened.
Soon, the dry and thin air dissipated the moment I entered the store. It was empty, and gone of noises. The only thing I've been hearing the moment I stepped into this building was the white background music that all groceries stores play.
As I walked around trying to shake off the unsettling feeling of guilt; I stopped.
Why am I here again? Suddenly my hands were cold, and my fingers felt freezing. The chills on my spine kept striking a pose every time I touched something cold, for it reminded me of a thing that I had tried so hard to forget. A sensation not my own, but as if it became a part of me as time moved on.
I remember.
I grabbed the first thing that I saw on the shelves and went to the cashiers. The whole aisle was empty but one. So without any other choice, I went to the only counter available.
"Good evening sir. Do you want me to bag it?" The cashier offered right after she punched the item. "I'd appreciate it," I replied.
While I was docked down navigating money in my wallet. I heard inaudible conversation behind me, like a distant murmur or a whispering wind. "Where were you that day?" A womanly voice hushed behind. First, I didn't think of it as anything; leaving lapses in time before I turned around to try and catch where that voice came from, and I was quickly reminded again that the store was empty and that there's no one there behind me.
"What happened that night?" Is what the cashier said that broke the long silence after I turned back around.
"What?"
"I said, here's your change sir." The cashier opened her palms at me holding my loose change. We both locked eyes before I grabbed those coins off her hand, and walked away. "Sir, you forgot your drink." She grabbed the bottle of energy drink from the counter, and handed it to me.
I forgot, again.
