She Coyote

34. Two hearts, collide, collide.

JUDE
It was a blur living in Bobcat's apartment. Drugs, sex, drugs, sex, drugs, sex, drugs, sex.... it was boring. But it's what I wanted, wasn't it?

Suddenly it felt as if I was being ripped out from this reality and thrown back into the life I was living after Beth went into rehab. A messy, unfulfilling lifestyle that consisted of drinking every day, shooting up every day, partying every day, being with whoever, being whoever.

I remember once I was at a loud party with trashy gangster rap music playing. Everyone was on some type of drug. There were girls with no clothes on dancing on tabletops and screaming with delight as people poured alcohol down their bodies. I walked aimlessly through it, numb. I had nothing. No goals, no emotions.

I saw a girl on the couch, her glossy eyes fixated on the water damaged ceiling. She wasn't moving, she wasn't breathing. I didn't know why I was so calm, but I knew she was dead. I knew it was from the drugs. So I lifted up a blanket and placed it on top of her and kissed her forehead. I never saw her again, but I think in some other lifetime we could of been friends.

I hope there's an afterlife so I can see her and tell her what I did. Maybe she'd smile at me. I think I wanted her to resurrect for a second, just so she could smile at me.

I payed for my stuff by fucking Bobby whenever she wanted to. I never enjoyed it. I faked through most of it. Sometimes, for the slightest, quickest moment, my brain would flash images of black hair and blue eyes. But I would force those thoughts away because I wasn't allowed to think about Coyote like that.

Or maybe I was. I knew it would do no harm, but yet whenever I would think of her pressed against me, I would feel guilty. Maybe it was because I left her, chose something over her. I bet she hated me. I think I wanted her to hate me.

Did I want her? Did I really care about her? I didn't think I did. But one day, Bobcat asked me, "What was going on between you and Coyote?"

I peeked my head up. Shrugged. "Nothing. She just let me stay at her apartment when I had no where else to go."

Bobby was sitting with her feet up on the coffee table, an open bottle of pink nail polish beside her. She stroked the polish against her toe nails, sniffing in, probably trying to drown herself in the smell of chemicals and toxins. I figured that was a comfort to her now. "Are you sure?" She chuckled, not bothering to look my direction.

"Yeah." I picked at the fray on the hole in my worn out jeans. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason, I just never saw Coyote look at anyone the way she looks at you, that's all. It's weird." She shrugged and the conversation dropped.

I couldn't help but to think that I was lying to myself, to Coyote, to everyone. But what was the reason? Was there a reason?

____

COYOTE

I stepped out from the heat of the bookstore into the frigid chill of the outside world. I had been living the past few days in a nervous fever. I would constantly check about my surroundings in case I were to spot one of the two people I feared colliding with. Anthony, the more prominent fear, was the main cause for my anxiety. Jude was more of a guilty fear, and if I saw him I doubt we would have any pleasant interactions.

Sometimes my brain would morph a stranger's face into the exact replica of his. I swear I could tell by the distinct glow in his eyes and the vibrating waves of energy dancing out from his bruised chest. I wanted to place my hands there and let his heartbeat swim through my fingertips, jumpstarting me like a drained car battery.