This Was My Life

It's Okay

Junior 

"I...uh...I..." Shit, what do I say? I knew I should've planned it out. "I, uh, I'm sorry! I was trying to make you angry! Because, uh, you were being really bitchy! And I you sorta deserved it!" Fuck, this'll make Dave flip. I could feel my face getting hot. Why do I always get like this in front of him? Dave bit his lip and raised his eyebrows a little. "Well, I guess I did deserve that, didn't I? Did I deserve getting hit in the face with a door, though?" I forgot all about that. "No...", I mumbled, sheepishly. He didn't seem very mad right now. Was it all going to come out later? Probably. "You okay?" God, is it that obvious? "Yeah, uh.... I'm fine." "You sure?" It is obvious, no, fuck, why, no. What do I say to that? I looked at him, made eye contact. This was awkward as fuck. "Junior? Seriously, are you okay? What's going on?" "I'm fine, I'm fine!" No, I wasn't fine. I was getting a bit fuzzy in the head. "Why don't you sit down? You don't look very good." He reached out to grab my hand to pull me down to the sofa. Fucking hell, those calloused finger tips. I covered my face with my hands because I was almost certain I'd start to cry. His arm draped around my back and I could feel his warm breath on my ear. "Junior?" I didn't say anything. I couldn't. After a few breaths I managed to choke out some words. "I feel sick." I did. My stomach started to rise into my throat and I felt dizzy. Dave grabbed my wrists and pulled my hands from my face. "Tell me what's wrong. Is it about yesterday? I'm not mad about that." "Yeah." I can't tell him now, I've made too much of an ass of myself. "Don't worry about it, dude. Honest. I'm sorry if I came across badly, I didn't mean to freak you out." I sat back against the couch and nodded. He pulled me a bit closer and then gently punched my arm. "It's all good, man. I swear." "Thanks." Maybe I could tell him now. But how? And just then, the guys walked in. 

Dave

Just as I was about to pry some more, Gar walked in, followed by Chris. "You two are early today." "Yeah, felt better than last morning." I was hoping that they'd be late again so I could talk more with Junior. I know something's up, and I need to know what. At this point I'm almost certain it's something to do with me. I noticed that if I get too close to him he starts to fidget and get uncomfortable. And any sort of physical contact makes him get really quiet. If those aren't signs of something I don't know what is. The day seemed to drag on much longer than it usually did, but finally we decided to wrap things up. Chris and Gar were more than happy to get out, but Junior seemed to linger behind. "Wanna come to my place for a drink? You need to loosen up, dude." He seemed to lighten up at this. "Yeah, sure!" Junior was back to himself now, cheerful smile and all. He was still doing some stuff so we agreed to meet at my place in half an hour. The other half of the Smirnoff was still there along with several other bottles of almost any hard liquor imaginable. I took a long while to look at myself in the mirror. Not in a narcissistic way, just to look at myself. Why would Junior, who could get almost any girl, be into a load of shit, much less a dude, like me? Of course I must be overthinking things. Just as I was about to sit down I heard a knock on the door. It even sounded like his knock, Jesus. There he was, in all his glory, beaming at me. "The girlfriend's out for a few days so we got the whole damn place to ourselves. Whaddya think?" It wasn't often I could have anyone over alone. "Fine by me." He threw himself down on the couch and laughed. "You have a bouncy couch, Dave.", he said, kicking his legs over the arm rest. "Glad to hear you're amused by that! What do you want? Vodka? Jack? Tequila? Beer?" And there was so much more, too. Where did I get all this anyway? "Jack's fine, thanks." "The bottle?" "Of course!" Oh, Junior. I know you too well. I sat down next to him with my trusty Smirnoff in hand. "Well, what've you been up to lately?" "So I called up my  old friend in Minnesota the other day, and-" I barley listened to what he was saying anymore, I was too busy looking at him. It was easy to get lost in the way he drunkenly gestured, waving his bottle about. His nose crinkled as he laughed about something I couldn't hear. There was always something about him I could never place. Now,  I think I know what.