Drinking Numb (The Numbing Series #1)

Chapter Five

<"һȏẇ ċȏȗʟԀ ṡȏṃєṭһıṅɢ ṡȏ ȗṅċȏṅċıєṿєѧɞʟʏ һȏяяıғʏıṅɢ ɞє Ԁȏṅє ṭȏ ʏȏȗ... ѧṅԀ ʏȏȗ Ԁȏṅṭ яєṃєṃɞєя?">
•ᖇᑌE•
•July 13, 2015•
"You attempted suicide?" Her voice monotone as if farther expressing her lack of compassion towards me.

"No, I cut myself a week ago on a knife in the dishwasher not paying attention, and it was fine until it got ripped open at the grocery store."

Staring at the back of her head, I am disappointed and yet grateful at the same time that I can't see her face. I don't know if she believes me, and, if she does, she doesn't clue me in on it. All I hear is a heavy sigh, her mumbling under breathe something along the lines of not being long, and then the truck door slams shut as soon as her feet hit the ground.

I hate lying to her, but I don't want her to think I tried to kill myself. I mean i didn't. I can't believe I would do that drunk or not, but I just can't remember what happened. I can't remember anything from that night, and I need answers. Kohl said outside the grocery store that he had hugged me before, and he knew where I lived. He knows where I live. How is that possible?

I have no idea.

"Kohl," I say at the same time he says my name. We've become quite a bit familiar with each other at the hospital, for he was my only visitor besides the usual rounds of staff prodding me and asking the same questions repetitively. No matter how much I told him he didn't need to, he still came, and, as much as I hate to admit it, I was always grateful he showed. I don't know him though, not really. He was practically nonexistent to me until, to my knowledge that is, like four days ago.

"You first," I hear him say as he turns the radio off leaving only heavy, stifling silence and tension.

"I have questions," I end up whispering overwhelmed by how lost I am. It's like a stranger took over my body and gave it back to me without filling me in on what I missed. I pinch the bridge of my nose and squeeze my eyes shut feeling tears prick at their corners and my throat ache.

"I know. Ask me whatever you need to."

I take a deep breath, deciding this is no time to take pity on myself. I'm a big girl. I'm perfectly fine, perfectly healthy. I channel this determination and decide to climb into the front seat beside Kohl facing whatever this is head on. I need to know everything.

"How do you know where I live? We didn't-," another deep breathe, "Where do you know me from?" I ask with my mind racing. I remember everything before that party that night. I remember feeling the need to get out of the house and away from drunkenly impaired. I remember arriving at the party and walking up the stairs, drinks in hand. Nothing really after that. Since I don't remember where I met him, that has to be the place.

"I moved here for the last nine weeks of high school last year. I saw you around, and we ran into each other at the party. We never met officially until the other day at the grocery store though," Kohl says whitening his knuckles into a fist before spreading his fingers apart.

"We met at the party," I say, immediately knowing its true.

"Something like that," he mumbles and a wave of dread hits me in the chest.

"What is that supposed to mean? We hooked up or something? Oh my-," an unrecognizably high pitch voice fills the car. I feel a hand wrap around my arm, jerking my attention back to him.

"No," he says almost to loud as if to force into my skull, "nothing happened, okay? Nothing happened. I found you upstairs. You were really drunk, your wrist was bleeding, and so I found some bandages for your wrist before taking you home."

We sit still with nothing but the gentle roar of the engine to feel our ears. I stare into his trusting, beautiful green eyes, playing over what he said in my head. As his hand continues to burn a comforting hole into my arm, I feel myself melt. This guy in front of me has practically done nothing but take care of me since he met me, but my mind just can't help itself. It has to put that subtle itch in the back of my skull as if to tell me to be careful, to be cautious, that this isn't real.

"That's it?" I ask questing him once again and appeasing my mind's inkling only slightly.

"That's it," Kohl speaks this a little faster than normal, but I suppose he may just be growing a little impatient with me. "I'm not that guy who takes advantage of you. I'm that guy who stops the other guy from taking advantage of you."

This, for some reason, earns a breathy laugh to escape my throat. "That's quite a mouth full, Mr. I'm That Guy Who Stops The Other Guy From Taking Advantage Of You." He lets out a breath as the corners of his mouth quirk up drawing my gaze lower, and I have the odd urge to caress my fingers across his busted and yet perfect lip all the same.

"What happened earlier? To your lip, I mean," the air whispers as my eyes study closer for a better look.

"A man answered the door to your house when I knocked. He said for me to leave or he would kick me out. Long story short, he tried, and then he ended up face down on the lawn instead," He whispers back to me, his minty breath envelopes me. I feel safe, and that scares the crap out of me. As much as I'd love to close the distance between us and give into the undeniably strong draw I feel toward him, I can't.

My eyes flicker to his warm, perfect hand on my imperfect, cold arm. I cover his hand in mine before pulling away completely and sliding down the seat to the half grass, half dirt of the ground.

"Thank you," I say, risking one last look up to him.

"It wasn't a problem. We should hang out more," he offers, but I shake my head to this.

"Bye Kohl."