The Vituperator (NaNoWriMo 2015)

twenty \\ cards

LIKE WE HAD PLANNED, we spent the rest of the evening relaxing. The five of us went over to the edge of town, a good fifteen minute walk from the hotel. As the sunset, we climbed on rocks, right by the water. The waves aren't strong, but by the rocks the waves crash against them, roaring no matter how weak the current is. Sometimes I get a spray of water, or I accidentally sit in a puddle — but I find that I don't care, the atmosphere is just so serene I feel like I can't wear anything less than a small smile. The air is much saltier in this part of the town, more concentrated. It may just be the ocean, but the seafood place we're close to may be a contributing olfactory as well.

Tae is feeling less conflicted, he's laughing and cracking jokes — almost normal again. It's just that sometimes his smiles doesn't quite meet his eyes, or he's be silent for too long a time in between conversations. He is getting better, and he will talk to Nick later for answers; that's what mattered.

Nick, on the other hand, doesn't seemed fazed at all. He knows Alona's here — he knows where she is. And just a day ago it was eating him from the inside. I look at him now and he's smiling, eye crinkles and all, nuzzling Sasha at the neck, and I wonder what he's thinking right now. Perhaps he feels there's a weight off his shoulders now, since Sasha will be the one talking to Alona when they corner her — or maybe, this is the calm before storm.

Here I go again, being dramatic.

At the seafood place — Mussel Man (boy, do folks here sure enjoy the magical powers of alliteration) — we debate on where to hit after dinner. There are a few local dive bars in town, but that's not even what the debate covers.

"I'm actually feeling kind of tired," Sasha says, looking sheepish after a great big yawn. It's contagious, and within the span of five seconds, we're all yawning. "I'm sorry guys, it might have been from the car ride. Made me super drowsy."

"Sash, really?" Bryson asks, looking very disappointed as he tears apart crab meat with is fork.

"We do have two more days here," Nick shrugs, eyes darting between Sasha and Bryson. "We've got plenty of time for bars."

I look at them with narrowed eyes, seeing right through their excuses. They want to find Alona tonight, they're clearing us out of their grueling schedule of arguing over money. I take a sip of my drink, letting the soda sit in my mouth a bit before gulping it down.

"We'll just call it a night early," Tae suggests through a mouthful.

"Thank you," Sasha nods as if its final.

"Well, that's a fucking let down," Bryson mutters.

"Don't be like that!" Nick rolls his eyes at him.

"Hey, why're you blaming me?" Bryson snaps, setting his fork down.

Sasha promptly interjects, "Nobody's blaming anyone —"

Bryson keeps going, "I'm sorry, I'm getting a little fed up here, okay —"

"What do you want from me, Bryson?" Nick nearly explodes. "What the fuck do you want?"

Sasha, Tae, and I pull back, reacting in our own ways.

"I want you to stop treating me like like some incompetent child," Bryson says, very calm — though his eyes say otherwise.

I think back to all the times Bryson has been kept out of the loop, all the times he's confided in me about this, all the times Nick and Sasha tell him right in his face that shit about Alona isn't his problem. I realize, whatever's happening right now has been long awaited; boiling deep down inside for sometime now.