Blaze (boyxboy)

Chapter 10

☆Blaze☽

Chapter 10:

After a few moments of him driving and me staring out the window while humming Young Volcanoes, he thrust a bottle into my hand.

            “What is it?” I asked incredulously, eyeing the bottle of clear liquid. I tipped it back and forth a few times, listening to the slosh the liquid made, and the cold feeling of the plastic in my hands.

            “It’s water.” Beatle replied in a ‘duh’ tone.  My lips formed an ‘o’ and my eyebrows arched in realization. I guess it did look like water. But water and vodka kind of look the same, so how was I supposed to know?

            “Drink it.” He pushed it into my chest, my hands still clutching the sides. He gave me a look that meant he was serious, and I was starting to feel sick. I closed my eyes and fought internally with the overwhelming need to vomit all over his windshield.

            I unscrewed the cap and began to drink the water, after the first few sips I felt significantly worse, but I knew I needed to drink it to rehydrate myself. I watched enough MythBusters to know all the myths about drinking, like taking an aspirin before you drank to avoid hangovers. Obviously that wouldn’t work; it would wear off, unless you have some industrial strength aspirin that hasn’t been invented yet.

            I also tried to avoid acetylsalicylic acid and other analgesics since my science fair project. My hypothesis was that aspirin would increase the growth of plants in small doses. All my plants turned yellow and their leaves shrivelled, the ones getting the higher dosage died. Not to mention the fact that they were radishes and didn’t produce any during the trial period. There’s no way that could possibly be healthy in my books.

            The car came to an abrupt stop, which caused me to groan as I poured water down the front of my shirt. The thin, white material clung uncomfortably to my chest. I pulled at it and Beatle watched in amusement.

            “It’s not funny.” My words were slightly slurred, and the faint blurriness had me rubbing my eyes under my glasses.

            “Sure it’s not.” He sent me one of his breathtaking smiles, one that I almost appreciated more while intoxicated. He pushed the door open and stepped out, leaving me confused and slightly dazed.

            I peered out the window into the darkness of the night, only barely being able to make out the white brick outline of what I knew to be Beatle’s house. I struggled with the door handle, losing my grip on it multiple times before successfully opening it and slipping out of the car.

            Beatle was waiting by the side to grip my arm and pull me towards his house. I wasn’t that drunk, I could still walk.

            But then again, isn’t that what everyone says?

            My head felt light, almost like it was floating, as we trudged up his driveway and towards the door. The porch light was on, illuminating the front of the house in an eerie green colour. It must have been some sort of bylaw that you had to have your porch lights on at night.

            We climbed the few stairs to the door, I tripped on the top one and he had to catch me before my face met the black railing that encircled the porch.

            Beatle pulled back the screen door, and turned the knob on the wood door behind it tentatively. It made a noise and refused to turn any further. He swore and began to pat his pockets for keys.