Silk || hs

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Anyone who tells you that food doesn't help solve your problems is either a liar, uneducated, or in denial. That, or they're just eating the wrong food, because let me tell you, these beignets sure as hell make me feel less like shit. For those of you who don't know, a beignet is rectangular donut that is deep fried and dowsed in a mountain of powered sugar, and here at the world famous Cafe du Monde in New Orleans, Louisiana, they load these babies high with sugar to the point where you look at it and think, "Nah, fam. That's too much." But then once you get in there, you find yourself dipping the fried bread in the leftover sugar on the plate just to get a bit more. It's so incredible that you entirely forget how bad it is for you. At least, I find myself forgetting it, because right now, I'm on my fourth one and I'm still going strong.

"This is like cocaine," Alexa moans in pleasure as she takes another bite of the hot pastry. Oh, that's the other thing: they're hot too, so when you eat one it makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

"I know, right." I smile contently, licking the sugar from my fingers and picking up my ridiculously small water glass. "I want another, but I know I'll regret it."

Alexa giggles, "Will you, though?"

I shrug, "Probably not, but I have to say that to at least seem healthy."

"We're eating donuts at one in the morning," she states amusedly. "I don't think we have to hide the fact that we're unhealthy at this point."

"This is very true," I laugh, draining the rest of my water and setting the cup on the table. There is no more water and no more beignets... which means only one thing. Alexa and I are about talk about all the shit that just went down, and it's going to be a bit of a bumpy ride.

As my troubled thoughts begin to come back to me, I fall silent and absentmindedly stare off at the towering cathedral across the street. Its white facade is all lit up in the darkness, and the faint sound of people shouting and jazz music fills the still night with a bit of excitement. I like the quietness of where we are right now, though. It's enabling me to just think and clear my head. I'm really just trying to analyze the whole night as much as possible, just so I can ensure that I'm not overreacting. I left kind of abruptly, which I probably shouldn't have done, but I was just so thrown off guard by everything that I really needed to get out of there.

I don't think I overreacted though. First off, I really did need to get Alexa out of that bathroom, so if worse comes to worse and I end up being insane, at least I can lean on that motive for a rational reason for leaving. Now that I think about the rest of it though, I really don't know if I should have trusted John when it came to Harry and his little tryst with Gabrielle. Clearly, John's main goal was to get to me, so it wouldn't be insane for him to lie to get what he wants. But there is also the fact that Mark did see Gabrielle go off with Harry after I went to check on Alexa, so I'm really not sure what to believe anymore. I should have stayed and talked to Harry like a normal human; I know that. But alas, I was hurt and angry, and I acted rashly. It's too late to change it now, but I do wish I had handled things differently.

As I turn my attention back to Alexa, I'm suddenly overcome with a dominating sense of guilt and anxiety. She looks so small and so fragile right now, and I really don't know if now is the time to tell her that her asshat of a boyfriend cheated on her. Her night has been hard enough as it is, what with John leaving her and her little visitation to the other John where she puked her guts out. I don't want to add to her distress, but I also don't want to ever have to have the "you knew and didn't tell me???" conversation with her, because those annoy the shit out of me. If you know something that you are obligated to share, then share it, dammit. That whole "I was trying to protect you" spiel is bullshit, and I am not about to buy into it.