Drown | Ruby da Cherry

2. Saline

May 1, 2015

Despite all the noise, it didn't divert my attention from the new Pokémon game, Alpha Sapphire. Celine and her friends had tried to get me to come inside to mingle with them, Bronwen and Hannah even brought me a couple cups of something tangy, but I just wanted to sit back and observe. Well, really, I want to go home and sleep after a long day of work but here I am.

Typical of Louisiana summers, the weather was hot and muggy. It was almost 90° in August and the air is basically waterboarding me but I'm used to it. But I'd take a sticky and humid night over the blistering hot days in the desert. I didn't live in Texas for long, but the memory of the unforgiving sun beating down on my neck is something that will always stick with me. Sure, stepping outside into muggy heat with mosquitos buzzing around my face is awful, but it's nothing compared to the torrid suffocation of an abandoned desert town with 109° with no shelter from the wrath of Helios or my mouth being so parched it's jealous of the few drops of water that might be left in the sand.

The heat made me miss my days in New York City. The summer humidity was similar at times, but I wasn't prepared for the frigid winters. Nothing compares the midnight view outside of my apartment window right after a fresh snow. The snow would be undisturbed in a soft blanket on the ground. Despite it being nighttime, the snow twinkled back and illuminated the otherwise black sky. I didn't mind being cold, even if the icy wind nipped my exposed skin. The snow would crunch underneath my feet, not unlike finding a crunchy leaf in autumn. I wish I didn't have to leave it behind.

"What are you doing out here all by your lonesome?" Hannah said. I showed her my gym leader battle on my DS. "C'mon," she pleaded with me as she took my glasses off my face, telling me it made me look "cuter". "This is the last end-of-year party before I graduate. Get up and enjoy yourself; you work too hard."

She started pulling on my arm to get me off the couch. I protested and fought as I sat like a rock on the couch while she practically yanked my arm out of the socket. The sweat from our skin caused her to lose grip and go stumbling back. She glared at me like I did it on purpose.

"Hannah, I just don't feel like it tonight-"

"You never do," she hissed with so much vitriol that I could feel the sting of the venom. The alcohol from her breath spewed forward and permeated the air around me. For once in my life, I stood up to her.

"I didn't want to be here in the first place-I told you that. I am enjoying the night by myself because that's what I like to do. I don't understand why you keep trying to change that about me."

The few drinks that Hannah had brought me earlier in the night had started to hit me, evidenced by my swaying as I stood. I tried to count how many but I lost track when Hannah kept talking.

With the small burst of unusual confidence, I could feel my wings melting in the sun.

"You know what? Whatever, I've tried being nice to you these past few months because I understand what you're going through, but you don't even make any sort of effort. Your life may suck but you don't have to bring everyone else down with you."

"First of all, your parents getting a divorce isn't the same as what happened to mine so don't say you know what this is like."

"Whatever, at least my parents aren't criminals. Find your own way home," she spat. Before I could get the last word, she spun around on her heels and walked towards the crowd surrounding the pool. By now, a few people were staring in my direction, waiting for my response. Instead of putting on a show, I walked back into the house.

As I entered the sliding doors, I was struck in the face by an unknown hand. Almost immediately, I could feel the blood draining down my face. Tiny droplets of crimson hit the floor and stained the cream carpet.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," he slurred as I looked up at him, a wash of guilt coming over his face. I had seen you both before; you probably ran with the same friends Hannah, but never had an actual conversation with you. He had long blonde hair, but it wasn't as long as yours. "I was trying to show him this move we saw on Dragon Ball Z and I didn't know you were behind me..." he rambled off until he realized there were more pressing things to worry about. "I'm Scott but you can call me 'Slick Sloth'." He laughed at his own joke (is it, though?) and tried to lean against the doorframe. I say try because he missed, stumbled trying to catch his footing, and spilled what was left of his drink on the floor.

"You don't have to call him that," you said, pushing him out of the way. Your long, brown hair wrapped around your shoulders, framing your face. I could see myself drowning in your hazel eyes and thick eyelashes. You gently grabbed my shoulder, guiding me away from the mess and closer to the living room. "Let me help you get cleaned up. It's all over your face. Scott, get her an ice pack or something."

Touching my face, it felt sticky and warm. I looked down as the blood dripped onto my clothes. Once in the bathroom, you had me sit on the counter while you dabbed away at my face with a wet hand towel. 

"Sorry about him," you said as you rinsed the towel off in hot water. "He gets a little excited when he's drunk. I'm Aris, by the way; I don't think we've officially met before."

You put your hand on the back of my head for stabilization as you gently patted my face with the warm cloth. My glasses split into two pieces when I took them off my face.

"I'm Mariela but Mary is okay, if it's easier."

"Do you prefer that?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does. It's your name."

"I prefer Mariela. A lot of people mispronounce it. You'd be surprised how many people say Mary Ella or Mariana."

You put your hand on the back of my head for stabilization as you gently patted my face with the warm cloth. My glasses split into two pieces when I took them off my face.

"Are you from around here?" you questioned, continuing to clean the blood that dripped onto my thigh. You caught me staring at you as you did so, but you just smirked.

"I've lived in New Orleans for a while, but I'm originally from Texas," I replied while blushing.

We chatted for a few minutes while we waited for Scott, who I learned is your cousin and not just your friend. When he did return, Scott had a bag of frozen carrots and a fruity drink as an apology. It was a strawberry flavor, I think, a sickly-sweet base that was overpowered by the burn of the alcohol. I almost threw it back up once it hit my stomach it was so potent and gross. Soon, the pain in my face from Scott's super god fist or whatever he hit me with faded away.