Save Me

Chapter 22

Please don't kill me for how terribly this chapter is written.

After two bottles of Bud, I wasn't exactly sober. I wasn't completely drunk, either, just a little  bit mentally handicapped. I still knew what I was doing, sort of.

It's around 1:00 now, and I haven't seen Ariana since she disappeared into the crowd of people. That means she hasn't had a drink in a few hours, so she should be sobering up a little bit. She only had a few shots, so she should be coming to her senses soon.

I talked with the bartender not too long ago, but I don't really count that as a conversation. All he did was ask about Ariana for ten minutes straight without trying to make it seem like all he wanted to do was get her into bed.

I haven't moved from the bar at all, actually. I don't really know how I'm keeping myself occupied, but I'm figuring it out somehow. I think it's just because I've been drinking. I should probably get up, or else I'll end up having another bottle and neither of us will be sober enough to drive home.

I stand up and walk through the crowd of people, looking around for Ariana. It seems almost impossible to find one single person in this place, but I think that I can hear her laugh from here. It's not loud, but I can hear it. I follow the sound until I find her.

She isn't alone. She's with a guy who looks almost thirty or forty years old; twice or maybe even three times her age. She's facing away from him, rubbing her hands on him while they grind against each other. No fucking way.

I push through a few people to get to them and grab Ariana's arm, pulling her off of the guy she was dancing with.

"Hey!" she yells. "What was that for?"

"I think it's time for us to leave," I say, walking us both outside of the club.

"What's up your ass?" she asks. "I was just having a little fun, no harm done."

"No harm done? That guy looked like he was forty years old."

I walk her over to the passenger side of the car and open the door. She gets into the car and I let go of her arm, then get in on my side.

"Does it matter how old he was? We were just dancing."

"Bullshit, that was like dry fucking. He looked old enough to have a wife and kids. Maybe he does. He looked dirty, Ariana. He could've been a rapist, or a killer, or- or something worse than that. I don't know."

"Why are you so 'protective' over me all of a sudden? I told you that I was going to dance, so I went to dance. I just happened to be dancing with that guy."

"Just dancing. You know what, I just don't get it with you."

I drive out of the parking lot and step on the gas, sending us both back in our seats.

"Don't get it?" she asks, laughing a little. "Get what?"

"You! You say one thing, then you do the opposite. You think one way and you act another. Don't even tell me that it's because you're bipolar, because this is way past fucking bipolar. Something is up with you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"That! That too! You do something, and then five minutes later, you act like it never happened. I just let it go because I don't want to make you angry but I don't ever forget about it."

"Just stop, Harry. This isn't going to end well."

"Damn right, it isn't going to end well. Just tell me what the fuck is going on with you."