Ares

Chapter 22 || That Shit Don't Feel Right.

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"Now don't you close your eyes. Too late. You wanna make it right, but now it's too late. My peanut butter chocolate cake with Kool-Aid."

– Redbone, Childish Gambino

"Aloha!"

Ares ignored Cliff's corny greeting and sat down at the bar, his head pounding like a drum, not believing he had slept past noon.

"Well, you're looking better today."

Ares tapped the bar. "Jack and Coke."

"Breakfast of champions," Cliff smiled, flashing the gap in his teeth and turning to the rows of liquor bottles stacked behind him.

Ares took a quick look around, scanning the place for a bald guy with pasty skin. When he decided it was clear, he dug his phone out and scrolled to Grace's name. He stared at it, the wind tousling his hair, still wet from a much needed shower. Ares inhaled breath of air that tasted like salt and hit the call button. Each ring grew louder in his ear, setting off a dull thud at the base of his skull. Cliff set Ares's drink down just when Grace answered.

"I'm sorry I haven't called," he said, holding his breath and running a hand through his hair. "But things have been..." He stopped talking, grimacing when Grace told him to leave a message after the beep that stung his ear like an angry bee, piercing his eardrum with its sharp tone. Ares opened his mouth but the words clung to the tip of his tongue, refusing to let go under any circumstance. He hung up and pulled the straw from his drink, not sure what to say or do anymore, and took a long pull of the Jack and Coke, deciding he just needed a little more time to figure it out. It would come to him. It always did.

"Ya know," Cliff said, resting his elbows on the bar top. "You might be the most miserable looking newlywed I've ever seen, and we get a lot of em through here."

Ares set his jaw, spraying Cliff with a chilly glare. "Might be?"

Cliff laughed. "You're supposed to be like those two lovebirds over there."

Ares followed his gaze to a young couple a few ables closer to the ocean. They held hands and stared deeply into one another's eyes, laughing and kissing and only making him feel worse. "Thanks for the tip," he said, returning to his drink.

"You wanna talk about it?"

Ares swallowed hard, his headache in full bloom behind his bloodshot eyes. "Why does everybody need to talk about everything?"

A perplexed look tightened Cliff's features into a ball. "Makes em feel better I guess."

"Hey, how's that muscle head guy from yesterday doing?"

Cliff inhaled a cutting breath through clenched teeth. "Not so good, I'm afraid. Fractured eye socket."

"Seriously?"

Cliff rapped his knuckles on the bar two times. "Hey, it's like my granddaddy always said: it ain't a party till somethin gets broken."

Ares stared at him, ice cubes settling in his glass. "Have you seen a bald guy with black framed glasses around today? He was sitting here yesterday."

Cliff's lips stretched downward as he picked up an ashtray and wiped under it. "Not that I remember."

"But you remember seeing him yesterday afternoon, right? Here at the bar."