Just a Number

Two

I sit on the edge of the couch with my head sagging in my hands and the napkin on the table in front of me. The mess that Shelly had made was still around me and I wasn't planning on cleaning it anytime soon. This was all I had left of her; the mess she made leaving me. Pathetic, right? My girlfriend of four years had finally gotten tired of my bullshit and left me. She left me. I had cried out all of the tears that were possible and yet I still felt full. Crying was supposed to be the key to satisfaction, right?

A quick tap at the door pulled me from my revere. Shelly? A cloak of hope filled the now empty space for my heart. Maybe - just maybe - she came back for me. Really? I'm sure she probably forgot a shoe or something. Quickly hopping up from the couch, I take long strides to the door and when I finally get it open the hope drops into the dark pit just like my heart. It had only been Drew. My idiot friend, Drew. The one who pulled me into all of this bullshit anyways. If I hadn't gone to the bar with him then I wouldn't have gotten the damn napkin from Bonnie. Bonnie. The maroon dressed Bonnie.

"Damn, man, you look rough. What happened? Is your family okay? Someone die? Knocked up a girl?" He grins at the last comment.

"Yeah, actually." I sigh but open the door gesturing that he could come in.

"What?" He steps in and notices the broken shards of glass on the floor. "What the hell happened in here?" He nudged the now crumpled magazine with his foot.

"Shelly left me. She's pregnant." I flop back down in my original spot on the couch.

"Whoa." Drew flopped down next to me. "Is it..."

"It's mine," I answer his unasked question. "Or at least that's what she told me."

"Jeez, man. Why'd she leave?" He looks around the room then continues, "Did you rough her up?"

Rough her up? I have never - would never hurt Shelly. The closest thing to me hurting her was when we had rough sex and I pushed her on the bed.

Mmm...rough sex with Shelly.

"No. I've never hit her. If anyone was getting roughed up, it was me." A faint grin played at my lips.

"Fuck, man."

"Yeah." I sit staring at the wall across from me.

"Why'd she leave?"

I lean forward to grab the napkin and toss it at him.

"Dude, who the hell is Bonnie?" He frowns at the napkin.

"Remember the girl at the bar?" I look at him from the corner of my eye.

He sits frowning at me with his light brown curly hair and solid brown eyes. He has freakishly long eyelashes - so girly.

"Oh, the one in green and black? She totally reminds me of Shego from Kim Possible." He laughs and I can't help but chuckle.

"No, not her. The other one in Maroon; Bonnie." I feel an odd tickle when I say her name.

"Oh, Baby face." He says nodding his head. Baby face?

"You know her?" I assume since he's given her a nickname.

"No." He says shaking his head frantically and frowning.

"Then what's with the nickname? Baby face?" Drew was big on nicknames but he only gave them to people that he knew. He occasionally calls me 'Ty' instead of 'Tyler' and if I'm not mistaken; he gave himself the nickname 'Drew' instead of Andrew.

"Have you seen her face? Dude, she has the body of a 22-year-old but the face of an 8-year-old." He scoffs. I knew I wasnt the only one who noticed her odd child-like face.

"How old do you think she is?" Sound nonchalant, sound nonchalant.

"I don't know. She could be under 18 with a rocking body or she could be 23 with a baby face," Drew sits up and grabs my knee to push up and off the couch. "You need a drink, man."

"Do I?" Hell, yeah.

"Yes. You are way too sad for me." Drew walks into my kitchen and I hear him open the fridge. "What the fuck, man?" He puts emphasis on the word 'the', making it sound like 'thee'.

"What's wrong?"

"Beers! Where the fuck is the beers? Or any alcohol?" I can hear him rummaging through the cabinets and refrigerator.

Shelly. "Oh, i'm sorry, man. Shelly didn't like alcohol in the house so she told me to get rid of all of it. You won't find any beer in there."
"What type of fucked up non-alcoholic couple were you guys?" I hear him chuckle but I frown.

"Her dad was a drunk."

"Whatever." He walks back into the living room with a bag of chips. "Grab your things, were going to 2 Roundz." 2 Roundz is the new club that Drew found one night after being kicked out of a girl's house when their hook-up was over.

"No, man. I don't want to get drunk tonight." How could I? My girlfriend jut left me with my unannounced baby. I don't want to wake up tomorrow with a hangover.

"Oh, come on. You would rather sit in here mopping around? Staring at the four corners? Wouldn't you rather be sitting in a club, listening to music, downing all types of liquor, and surrounded by hot babes with boobs bigger than cantaloupes?" He smiles at me and I chuckle. Cantaloupes? "Come on, man. I know you want that." He then begins to form the circular motion around his chest and I can hear him humming the usual club music.

"I couldn't help but laugh, "Okay, okay. I'll go get my keys."

Quickly changing into my navy blue leather jacket with the diagonal chest zippers, a white tee, and my dark jeans, I stand in the mirror running my fingers through my hair. Was I really gonna do a prep-talk? No. I'm drinking, it's not like I've never done this before.

Walking back into the living room I say, "Alright. Let's do this thing."

"Aren't you gonna clean up this mess?" He gestures to the glass and papers that Shelly had thrown.

"No. Fuck it." This may not be what I was really feeling but I do know that I wasn't going to waste another tear over Shelly...at least not tonight. It's her lost - if she doesn't believe me then that's her own personal problem.

"Fuck it." Drew repeats after me then heads to the door.

Going out for a drink the same night that my girlfriend leaves me. This probably makes me a bastard.

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