The Story of Griffin Hawkins

Chapter Seventeen

2013 Copyright All Rights Reserved

Unedited, first draft

Chapter Seventeen

Week Four

Thursday

            Griffin started to walk towards the sports bar across the street. I tightened my jacket around me as I followed behind. Snow started to fall and the sun had already set. I jogged to catch up to him, feeling uncomfortable walking alone in the dark in that particular part of town.

            He smashed his cigarette into the ground before he opened the door for me to walk inside. I politely thanked him before heading inside. A woman sat us down in a booth and I was surprised that it wasn't very crowded. I took off my jacket and sat it next to me as I slid in. "Are we here to eat?" I inquired as I started to glance at the menu feeling my stomach grumble.

            "If you want, I'm here to drink." He stated shrugging off his thick coat and beanie that I failed to notice on his head. He shook his blonde locks from side to side as he looked at the menu. The server came over and introduced himself, taking our dinner orders, and Griffin's drink order; it was happy hour.

            "What kind of drunk are you exactly?" I asked.

            "That's an odd question to ask, and for the record I'm not going to get drunk from a few drinks. I have a higher tolerance than that." He retorted.

            "Okay... but I'm still asking."

            He raised an eyebrow at me before he rolled his eyes, "The sad and reckless kind." The corner of his mouth turned up ever so slightly.

            "You mean you've done a lot of stupid things while you were drunk?" I clarified, since I already knew what exactly a sad drunk entailed, I was one.

            "Oh yeah," He chuckled and I watched his Adam's apple bob up and down. "I've had a few altercations with some guys, run in's with the police and few times I ended up in the hospital because something was broken."

            "Do you like to get into fights while your drunk? I know some people who can start drama out of nothing and with some of the guys they'll even start fights for no reason."

            He shrugged, "Only if I'm provoked or for a very good reason." I nodded, "What kind of drunk are you, Cadence?"

            The way he said my name sent chills down my spine and goose bumps on my arms. "I'm, um, well it depends." I avoided eye contact with him and played with the straw in my water glass.

            "Do you mean it depends on the social setting?" He redefined.

            "Well, yeah. I think it depends on whether I know people, what's happening in my life, and how I'm feeling that day." I shrugged my shoulders and bit my lip.

            "Okay, say you went to a party with me right now, we got drunk, based on your feelings today and 'what's happening in your life', what kind of drunk would you be?" He interrogated.

            I didn't break eye contact with him as I gulped, "A happy drunk." I whispered and something flashed in his eyes.

            We talked about our interests; conversation was light and almost normal. We watched a hockey game as well, giving us something to talk about. I even laughed a few times and surprisingly, received a small smile from him.