.06
My mom sits across from me, fiddling with the cheap menu. It's plastic, pealing at the corners. My older brother sits next to her, messing on his iPhone. I'm dazed. My mind is calm. My head clear. The two Oxy I took before coming here are starting to kicking in.
"What are guys getting?" My mom asks. Looks up. Her eyes are bloodshot, and I can smell the alcohol on her breath.
"Pasta." I respond. Once a month we came to this same restaurant, our way of keeping in touch. We had no other way of contact - just an understanding that every month on the second Thursday we'd all meet at Pork's, and sit at this same table for forty five excruciating minutes.
"Steak." Charlie says, glancing up from his phone. The last time Charlie and I had a real conversation was years ago, before Oxy. Before partying. At a time, we used to be close. But I can't look at him now. Not anymore. Not after Annie's death. Not after knowing they were secretly together.
"Oooh, steak sounds good. I think I'll get that," My mom gushes. Tries to make a conversation going.
"So, how's Chandler doing?" Charlie asks, peering at me. I look at the wall behind him.
"Fine." I reply, my voice gravel. I want to get out of here, take a few more pills.
"How's work?" He asks. I finally look at him. Raise my eyebrows.
"Why are you talking to me?" I ask. We never talked at these things. He knew I couldn't muster to even look at him. We had a silent understanding to never speak to each other. So far, it's worked perfectly.
He doesn't look surprised. Just shrugs. "My friend says he knows you."
"Who?" I ask. I didn't know anyone.
"His name is Niall," Charlie replies cooly, raising his left eyebrow.
My cheeks burn. I look at my water. Take a huge gulp. The cold liquid slides down my throat easily. "Oh."
"And?" He presses.
"And, what?"
"Do you know him?"
I shrug. "Sure."
The rest of the time goes by agonizingly slow. The olive skinned boy trickles into my mind, his angular cheek bones and brown scruff making my stomach twist.
Why was I wasting my time thinking about Zayn? I didn't even know his number. I had no contact with him. Last week, the night he showed up after work, I scared him off. For good.
An unpleasant feeling settles in my stomach as I think this. I should be happy. I should want him to leave me alone.
But I don't.
-
"Niall?" I ask, tapping the blonde's back. It was Saturday night, and Danny had dragged me back to the club where I met Zayn a week before. His blonde roommate was at the bar, and I don't know why but I had the urge to go up to him.
The alcohol in my veins swayed my actions. I had been here for a good hour, drinking every chance I got. Danny had ditched me as we walked in, and I took to dancing with strangers.
But I was sweaty. And hot.
"Chandler!" Niall greets as he turns, a maniac smile taking up his face.
I laugh. Take another swig of my beer. "Where's Zayn?" The words tumble out of my mouth without warning. Oops.
Niall's eyes scan the crowd. "Somewhere around here." He yells, giving me a wink. "I thought you already had your fill on him?"
"I did too," I reply before getting lost in the crowd, grabbing Niall's hand. Before I know it, back bum is pressed against him, our bodies moving in sync. What's happening?
The room becomes dizzy. All I know is that Niall's hands are pressing into my hips, pressing his bulge against me.
"Wanna go back to my place?" Niall asks, his voice barely audible over the loud music, even though his lips tickle my earlobe.
The idea sounds good to my drunken state. I nod, feeling Niall's lips peppering my neck with kisses.
I don't feel a thing when his lips press against my skin. Nothing.
He takes my hand, leading us out of the club. The cold air hits my skin as we walk towards his car, the whole time giggling like fools.
The carride is short and full of talk. About nothing, really. Stupid, small things.
The next thing I know, we're in his house. Niall's lips smash against mine, backing me against the front door as soon as it closes. I wrap my legs around his waist, my hands getting lost in his messy hair. The kiss is a bit messy, and our teeth accidentally clink against each other a few times, but otherwise I seem to get lost in it.
"Lets go to my room," He whispers against my lips, and I just give a small nod.
I jump down from my position, holding Niall's hands as he leads me up a pair of familiar stairs.
It's then that it hits me.
Shit.
Was I really this drunk to not remember who Niall actually was? How I even met him?
My legs slow down, our fast pace to his room becoming slower. Niall looks at me questioningly. "Chandler? What's wrong?"
Before I can reply, the front door opens behind us.
We both turn simultaneously to see non other then Zayn, stumbling in the small house.
His eyes immediately lock with mine, and I watch as they travel down my arm, to my hand that's intertwined with Niall's. I have an urge to pull away, but I don't. Instead I gulp, feeling guilty as hell.
"Sorry for interrupting." He says shortly, taking the stairs two at a time and passing us. I watch him go.
My mind starts to shut down. Go into overdrive. I go through the motions of having sex with Niall.
When we enter his room, I let him undress me. Kiss me everywhere. I let him open a silver condom package. I let him slide into me. I kiss him when it's over. He's sweating, lying next to me, his breathing ragged. I don't have the energy to sweat. To feel anything. I lie there half naked, looking at the ceiling. Wondering what Zayn is doing up there right now.
I listen as Niall's breathing evens out. I peer at him. See that he's fallen asleep. I wait a few minutes before standing, pulling on my jeans and white shirt.
I slip out of his room. Tie my hair back.
Before I can think about what I'm doing, I turn the opposite way of the front door. I end up in front of Zayn's instead. My mind reels. I try to bring myself back, but I can't. I knock on his door.
