A Million Hooks

Quicksand

Chapter 3:

{cold empty matresses and falling stars; my, how they start to look the same}

        I sat at the bar in my kitchen, a bottle of Jack Daniels stood in front of me with two glasses on either side. I picked the one in front of me up and swirled the contents around, a half-full glass waiting to be drunk. My eyes were still lined with red; my tears hadn't subsided again since I entered my house.

        Mike was in my bathroom, and his glass had been emptied four times now. The alcohol had no effect on him whatsoever, and his excuse was, "I'm used to heavier stuff." The water slowed, then stopped, and I took a quick swig out of my glass.

        The swing of the bathroom door came from down the hallway and I glanced up, rubbing my nose and letting out a deep sigh. Mike sat back down in front of me and poured himself some more Jack. A few moments passed in awkward silence before he cleared his throat and looked up from the sepia coloured liquid in his glass.

        "So, if you don't mind me asking, why did you try a stunt like that tonight?" Mike asked in a soft tone, fiddling with the rounded lip of the glass.

         I took a deep breath and let it all out at once, getting what happened off of my chest: "I've always been at least a little bit fucked up. No one ever knew that I was other than my best friend Grace, but I just felt like a burden so I wouldn't tell anyone, and it's not like she asked what was wrong, so I didn't elaborate. I met my boyfriend, well now my ex, Steve about three months back. We had started out as friends for a good month and then we progressed into a relationship. It gave me some hope, being with him. Last week, at a bonfire we'd had on the remenants of the Jersey Shore, I- I don't even know what I could do," I stuttered, "I felt lost and incomplete, and just plain alone. I wound up falling asleep in the van my friends and myself had all come in, until I was woken up by Steve, who then freaked out because there was blood tickling down my thigh and onto his carpet. He started yelling, freaking out on me and having me explain what happened. He wasn't happy at all."

         I let out a deep sigh and before Mike could get any words out of his mouth, I continued, "This entire past week Steve hardly came around. He was awkward and quiet when he did and when ever he would try to touch me, I'd flinch away. I guess he just gave up. Earlier today he left me. He didn't want to do anything with me anymore. He was done. So I told him to get out." I slumped my shoulders in defeat and glanced from under the strands of hair that were falling out of my bun to see Mike's reaction. His lips were slightly parted and his features were laced with worry. I could feel his eyes bore into the top of my head as I rested my forhead on the bar counter.

         Slight pressure was applied to my shoulder as Mike rested his hand on it, making me look back up into those warm, worry filled, brown eyes. The words he spoke were so sincere I couldn't help but believe him.

         "Please don't do that again. I'm here for you, no matter what. You seem like a really sweet girl, with a lot of problems, and you deserve to have someone be here for you. You seem like you need a friend, too. Although we've only just met, I promise I'll be here for you." Mike got up and walked around the peninsula, pulling me into a tight embrace. I choked back tears and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him close to me. The scent of his cologne and the salty ocean emanated off of his body and enveloped me; my lungs filled with the aroma each time I took a breath. 

         Slowly, he released me, still holding me by my shoulders, and looked into my eyes to give me a big, toothy grin. I broke out in a fit of giggles from the happiness and excitement on his face and pushed him away, where he glided back around the jut-out and sat down again, pouring himself another glass of Jack.

         Throughout the rest of the night Mike made shitty jokes and asked me a few more questions. I could tell he was concerned still and trying his hardest to make me happy and smile. When I finally checked the clock above my stainless steel oven, the time shone 12:45pm. Mike let out a soft yawn and I stretched, cracking most of my back.

         "I should probably go," Mike said, checking the clock like I had just before.

         "Oh yeah, it's getting pretty late," I shrugged and got up, stretching some more and walking away from the counter a bit.

         "Yeah. Here lemme just..." He trailed off, grabbed my phone and tried to put his number in, only to be rejected by my passcode. "Can you unlock you're phone for me?" He asked, his tongue poking out from the side of his mouth between his teeth in concentration and frustration. I quickly typed it in and let him do as he pleased; I had nothing to truely protect on my phone, just my music. In a quick few taps, his number was saved and Mike placed the phone in my open palm.

         He slowly walked to my front door and put his slightly damp sweatshirt back on then turned on his heels to face me. I walked up to him solemnly, sad to see him go.

         "I guess I'll see ya on the flip-side then?" I smirked, blushing a little.

         "'Course," he said as he pulled me into another tight hug. "Text or call me if you need anything Beth."

         I watched as he released me and strode back out to his car, starting it, then backing out of my short driveway. A honk and a wave preceeded as I stood where Mike Fuentes had just left me at my doorstep.