Speechless: REWRITTEN

17. Calla Lily

Roscoe

I spend the New Year's drinking champagne and eating chocolate chip cookies alone.

I don't usually drink a lot, maybe a glass or two. Maybe even three if I'm with friends, but by the time I put down the bottle, I was able to see the bottom of it clearly, a reflection of a dumbass staring back at me within the remaining liquid.

I called her a dozen times before her phone just started going straight to voicemail. I must've left double the texts. Once I knew getting through to her wasn't going to happen, I called Mordecai to bitch about the situation. He, like the best friend he is, informed me that I'm a dumbass and I need to fix things. I mean, no shit. We live together and I just kissed her like my lips would erase all those months of animosity between us. How could I be so fucking stupid?

About two hours before midnight, I decide to go out and grab some aspirin and ginger ale for the wicked hangover I'm going to inevitably have tomorrow morning. Knowing I can't drive, I call an Uber to pick me up and take me there. Before leaving the house, I throw on some cologne so I don't smell like my life is falling apart.

Once I get to the convenience store, I tell the driver to sit tight. Then I rush inside the building, trying to make my time out as short as possible. In the back, I hear the quiet hum of a TV, people announcing the new year of 2022 approaching fast. There's people in cheering in the background while the hosts are speaking, and I let out a tired sigh.

My brain fights through the jumbled labels, but I find the brand I'm looking for and turn the corner to the drinks aisle, only to run into someone, making both of us drop our items.

"Shit, I'm sorry," I throw out, bending down to help.

"No, it's okay."

I stop, and my eyes drift upward to a most familiar face.

"Whoa...Cheyenne?"

She looks up and meets my eyes. "Roscoe..."

"Hey...um..."

"Hi..."

We both just shut up because nothing intelligible is leaving either of our mouths. I gather my cloudy thoughts together to form something. "I...Gianna told me you were back, but I didn't think you were back yet."

"Yeah! Um, I got back two weeks ago. I've just been moving into my new apartment and everything."

"You have an apartment?" My eyes widen. I resume picking her things up, which consists of cans of soup and ramen and a box of tampons.

"AMDA is paying for it. It's technically a dorm, if anything," she chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. I also notice that she's cut her long hair into a shoulder-length bob, still curly as ever. Round glasses frame her face, bright eyes staring back at me.

"Oh..." How am I supposed to talk to her? Hey, I'm glad you're doing fantastic, girl-who-used-to-date-my-best-friend!

"How are you?" she offers.

I shut my eyes, wincing at my fuzzy mind, and then look back at her. "Not great, but I'll manage." Stupidly, I add, "I've been drinking."

"Oh. Not driving, hopefully."

"No, I have an Uber outside. Although, he's probably charging me per minute he waits," I chuckle painfully.

"I can take you home if you want," she offers. "Wait, I thought you were living with Gianna now?"

"I am, but..." I can't talk about it. I can barely think about it. "You have a car?"

"It's my dad's car, but yeah. So, do you need a ride?"