Close As Lovers

Thirteen.

Song: Used to Love You Sober- Kane Brown

Alcohol scared me.

My entire childhood, I was taught to fear the drunken man. You couldn't be too close when he was intoxicated unless you wanted to feel pain. You shouldn't try to talk to him either because he would say things that would break your heart and make you question yourself. And once those actions were completed, they couldn't be taken back. Whatever happened when you encountered the drunken man would stay burned in your mind forever.

And because of the drunken man, I had sworn I was never going to touch alcohol.

But that was before Wes came along and we had reached our teen years. The first time I had tried it was because of him. I could still remember that night as clear as day...

"Come on, Molls. Just one sip," He had begged, holding the bottle in front of me.

My nose crinkled in disgust as I looked away from him. "Just because we're at a party doesn't mean I have to drink. Besides, you know I don't mess with that stuff."

That had been at our first high school party, the summer before ninth grade. Wes insisted that we attend, claiming it would help us get in the circle with the sophomores and juniors, but I didn't really care to be a part of their cliques, so I just went along because he wanted to go.

Wes sighed, patting my leg as he shot me a small smile. "You don't have to be afraid of it forever, Molls. You're not him and you won't be who he was with it either."

"Still. I know what it can do."

"Look, just try it," He smirked, holding it closer to me, and I glared. "If you don't like it, then I won't ask again."

I rolled my eyes. "You're insufferable."

He chuckled. "But you still love me."

Reluctantly, I grabbed the bottle from his hand, and with a sigh, I gulped some of it down. When I swallowed, my throat burned, and I coughed violently. He laughed, causing me to glare at him more.

"See? That wasn't so bad."

I hit his shoulder. "You're lucky you're my best friend."

His grin grew. "Lucky I am, Molls."

As I thought about that day, the more I drank. I couldn't remember how it happened or why I suddenly started drinking, but all I knew was that it was the only thing that soothed the pain I felt for a little while, and that was good enough for me. Since Wes left, I drank until he became a memory.

But then I would become sober again, and my mind clung to every little detail about him. Wes had become a sort of drug to me and without him, my whole existence was slowly deteriorating. How could you move on when your everything was gone? I didn't know. All I knew was that I was tired of him being just a little too far away from my grasp and when I finally had him back, he would be gone again, just like that.

On the sixth day of my binge, I decided to go downstairs. I ran out of the necessities I needed to keep him off my mind, and I knew where my parents hid the stash for special occasions.

My situation seemed like a pretty special occasion.

I clumsily made my way down the stairs, and unfortunately for me, Wes was standing at the bottom of the staircase. When his eyes caught sight of me, he disappointingly sighed and walked away; that is, until I started throwing up uncontrollably, and he stopped in his tracks.

My stomach was flipping like a gymnast. The more I threw up, the weaker I became. It was as if I had been poisoned by the way my throat began to close, and my breathing became restricted. Wes held my hair back as we tried to walk towards the bathroom, but I collapsed before we could make it. Wes carried me in his arms, but then things took a turn for the worst.