Under Glass

Chapter 12 - Low Bar

Visions of the night before appeared and then dissipated. A heavy weight was on her chest as she tried not to cough up the bile threatening to rise in her throat. Caitlin nudged the guy wrapped around her. He snored and then turned away. She exhaled in relief and scooted off of the bed that smelled like stale beer.

She tip-toed around the room collecting her tank top, shorts and flip-flops. The pounding in her head threatened to derail her escape and she braced herself on the wall for a second. Closing her eyes, she savored the numbness of her emotion. Without opening them, she pulled the tank top over her head and slipped the shorts over her hips. She felt horrible, which she could focus on, instead of her dead ex-boyfriend. Alcohol had quickly become the crutch she relied on daily, hourly sometimes.

Last night she'd gone to a bar she'd never been in before to drink without judgment or conversation. She vaguely remembered meeting the sleeping Casanova, but she had no recollection of coming to this apartment.

Ringing shattered the silence and Caitlin pounced on her bag furiously searching for the phone. She silenced it and glanced at the bed. The sleeping giant was not bad looking, tousled brown hair, kissable lips and a nice chest. She shrugged as she pushed opened the door.

"Fuck," she whispered as she realized that she hadn't spent the night at an apartment, but at a fraternity house. "For the love of all that's holy," she muttered while she tip-toed down the stairs.

The pounding pushed everything else out of her brain. She saw the front door and sighed in relief. Once she pulled the door shut behind her she slipped her flip-flops on and made her way toward the street. It was still dark as she walked down the sidewalk quickly. It was about two miles to her apartment and she honestly didn't know if she would make it. She needed to eat.

When was the last time she ate?

Digging in her purse she found her phone and looked at the call log. Chris. She was ignoring him and he wasn't taking it too well. She pressed dial.

"Hello?" A groggy voice answered.

"Tray, can you come get me?" Caitlin's voice was hoarse.

"Where?" Traylor's voice was suddenly alert.

"I'm in front of the Sig house," Caitlin said uneasily.

"Give me five minutes."

Caitlin dropped to the sidewalk, her legs spread out before her. Her eyes closed, her head fell forward leaving her chin resting on her chest.

When Traylor pulled onto the street, she saw Caitlin in a pile on the curb in front of the fraternity house. Traylor eased the car over to the curb and got out, moving quickly to where Caitlin slept. Still clad in her strawberry pajamas, Traylor sat down. "Cait?"

Caitlin's head popped up and she looked around scared. "Oh, Tray. I must've fallen asleep."

"Well, I was too."

"Yeah, sorry. I just didn't think I could make it to the apartment. I feel..."

"Exhausted? Sick? Horrible?"

"Worse," Caitlin's voice was weak.

Traylor couldn't decide whether to rip Caitlin a new asshole or cry. Her best friend was disappearing right before her eyes.

"What am I doing?" Caitlin's voice was void of the emotion behind the question. She knew what she was doing.

Wrapping her arms around Caitlin, Traylor decided just to love her friend. She honestly didn't know what else do. "You're going to get through this, I know it."

"I wish I could be as confident as you are." Caitlin got up and shuffled over to Traylor's car. She looked, sounded and felt defeated. "When?"

Traylor fell into her car pondering Caitlin's question.

"When do I get over this?"

"I think you know I can't answer that."

"But I need to know." Caitlin ran her hands through her greasy hair. "I don't think I can keep doing this if I don't know when."

Traylor sighed. There were so many unanswered questions. "It's only been a few weeks. You can't expect to be over your boyfriend dying."

"When can I expect to be over it?"

"You can't let this overwhelm you."

Caitlin blinked at Traylor. She was being unfair, Traylor did not have the answers, no one did. What's that they say you lash out at the ones you love the most. "What the hell am I supposed to do? Everybody has sage advice like 'it takes time' or 'time heals all wounds.'"

Traylor took a left to go Caitlin's apartment.

"It makes me want to punch someone every time I hear something like that."

Traylor understood Caitlin's frustration.

"I actually want to punch people who are trying to be nice." Caitlin tapped her fingernails against her thigh. Her feet were dirty and only had scant polish on them from her pedicure two months ago. Before. From now on her entire life would be measured by before James and after. Before when she had a future, when she could smile.

"I can't sleep, I'm always thinking about him. I can't concentrate..."

"You need to keep yourself busy."

Caitlin forced a fake laugh. "I keep myself busy by drinking and passing out. The trick is to do it fast enough so that I don't cry in front of anyone."

The honesty of that statement broke Traylor's heart. "That's not what I meant."

"What do you think I should be doing then?" The sarcasm in Caitlin's voice was evident.

"It's different for everyone..."

"I hate this. This makes me hate everything. I hate that people continue to live when I feel like I may die. I hate that I have to move forward with my life. I hate that I don't know who I am anymore. I hate that James did this to me. I hate that I made him do it."

"Cait," Traylor whispered.

"I hate eating. I hate laughing. I hate..."

"Caitlin everything you're feeling is fine to feel, but I'm pretty sure you're going to need a counselor."

"Why would I need a therapist?" Caitlin asked. Traylor refused therapy when her dad died.

"Because you aren't doing well, you don't look well." You're doing drugs and turning into an alcoholic, Traylor didn't say. She also didn't say Caitlin had stopped eating and sleeping and that she was worried Caitlin would fall off the edge of sanity if something didn't change soon.

"I'm just trying to help."

The rest of the short drive was silent. Caitlin closed her eyes and dreamed of before and her bed. When the car stopped, Caitlin opened the passenger door. "Look, I know you're trying to help. It must be hard for you, but if you want to help then just be my friend. I don't need you to judge me. I don't know what I'm doing right now, but it's the best I can do."