LOUISIANA SKY (COMPLETE)

5. Billy

DALLAS POV

Today was a hard day to get out of bed. I could hear the pitter patter of rain hit the window as I rubbed the sleep away from my eyes. It was my day off and I
despised it. I missed the way drinking made me feel. It made me feel carefree and unbothered. But liquor made me care too little and unbothered by not enough. It was a long struggle, but I stopped and I spent all these years trying to find ways to replicate that same feeling. Working was one of those ways and I couldn't do that today.

I dragged myself into the bathroom like I did every morning. Sam told me that looking into the mirror and willing yourself to be happy would eventually make you happy. Like a fake-it-'til-you-make-it sort of thing.

I stare at myself in the mirror. Deep breath, smile. Nothing.

Happiness was a foreign concept and I hadn't felt it since I quit the bottle. It's not like I deserved it anyway, I was being punished for my wrongs and I accepted it. I accepted my fate a long time ago which only made the idea of seeing her again make my heart twist in knots. When I saw her at the garage, I felt butterflies in my stomach. I should've taken that as a sign to run, run far away from her.

From just the little interaction we had, I could tell that she was sharp, witty, a force to be reckoned with. I liked that, I liked her. I liked that she looked tough, like she could handle herself. I should've given the assignment to someone else, anybody else. But I didn't want to.

Every Wednesday I checked in with Sam at the diner outside of town just to talk about our week and how I was doing with my recovery. I got sober in prison, so it'd been almost seven years now. Most people would have been proud of themselves, but I was too ashamed of who I was and what I've done to get excited about anything. To me, the sobriety chip was nothing more than a physical reminder of how much I had fucked up my life and everyone who knew me.

"Hey, Buddy! How you doin'?", Sam pats me on the back as he slides into the booth. I was envious of Sam. He'd done a lot of bad shit too back when he was an alcoholic and he was able to live the rest of his life to the fullest.

"Hey, Sam", I let out a small smile. "I'm doing good. How about you?" I can't find it in me to look at him, his positive attitude always intimidated me. Instead, I play with the sugar packets and pay all my attention on them.

"Dallas", he moves the sugar packets away from me. "I've know you enough to know that something's on your mind, so talk". As happy as he was, he always knew when it was time to be serious.

I really was doing fine. I hadn't touched a bottle in years and I muster up the will to get up every morning. But she was on my mind a lot lately and I somehow found it hard to talk to Sam about her.

"I met someone", I finally say.

Sam's eyes widen in surprise. "Dallas, that's great! Who is she? I might know her, it's a small town. What's she like?" Have you asked her out yet!?"

His barrage of questions make my head spin. He was making this all a big deal when it really wasn't anything, so I keep most of the details to myself.

"I don't know her well", I try to be as vague as possible, dancing around my words. "But she seems sweet. She's definitely witty, a firecracker. She seems like she could get intense, you know". I can feel myself light up when I talk about her, but I can feel a pang of disappointment come soon after. I try my best to hide this from Sam to no avail. My eyes fail me every time.

"She sounds like the perfect match for you, to be honest", he encourages. "But how come you don't seem that happy about it?"

I look back down at the table as I take a deep breath. "She's too good for me, Sam. You know I can't start anything with anyone. Who'd even want me?" I didn't intend for our conversation to go this far, but Sam was the only one I could confide in. He was the only one who knew the true me and didn't judge me for my past.