Two Weeks With Chelsea

Chapter 17

Trevor made his way out of the restaurant with Chelsea following close behind. She followed him to a bar a few blocks away where a few shots and a beer finished him for the night. He stumbled as he made his way out of the bar. The loss of footing was partially to blame on intoxication and partially on loose stone in the step. He somehow managed to stay upright and continued walking as if the misstep was part of his normal stride.

"Not that way. Les Rambles is this way," Trevor said as Chelsea started off in the wrong direction.

Chelsea looked around and felt more confident in her navigation skills than his at that point. Trevor followed her lead but insisted she was heading them the wrong way. After a few blocks, she conceded that she had no idea which way to go as the street she had taken became a dead end.

"Okay, so now are you going to trust me? —s this way," Trevor said as he turned and headed down a dark street.

"Shouldn't we go back that way? This doesn't seem right."

"We could... or we could go this way."

She reluctantly followed him. Along the walk Trevor seemed to cycle between moods. For moments he seemed to be blissfully enjoying life and happy to share the excitement with everyone that passed by. Other times he was quiet and disconnected.

"Yeah!" he shouted, "Hang'n out in Barcelona with my new pal... Chelsea!"

Chelsea smiled as he draped his arm across her shoulder and pulled her close. She felt his weight baring down on her momentarily. She watched him through the corner of her eye as he seemed to be leaning forward. He suddenly righted himself but left his arm over her shoulder.

"Fuck them all! Nobody wants to go vacation'n with me, fuck it! I go myself." He belched.

She knew he was talking about his father and family. She reminded herself that he was drunk and thinking of other people when he said that nobody wanted to be with him. She was there, uninvited, but there none the less. She wanted to be there with him. Even in his current, drunken condition, she wanted to be there.

"Yer, here. With me, that's cool. I'm an ass... hole," he mumbled as he brought his mouth close to her ear. "Thank y—"

After a couple blocks and a few turns, they were back in the open. Chelsea couldn't believe he could wind his way through dark and narrow streets and find his way. She looked around with her jaw drooped open and shaking her head in disbelief.

"Les Rambles! Med—terranean that way, hotel that way," he said as he stood with his arms crossed in front of him, index fingers pointing in opposite directions.

"How?"

"I don't know, I just good with navigating 'n shit..." he said making his intoxication even more evident with slurred speech and unsteady legs. "Wait, let me get a selfie..."

Trevor fumbled with his phone then handed it to Chelsea to take the photo.

"No, not jus- me. You gotta get in it too," he said as he tucked in behind Chelsea and rested his chin on her left shoulder.

Trevor inspected the picture, "Perfect. I look drunk an you look f'kn hot."

"Okay, hotel that way... Let's go," Chelsea said as she took Trevor's arm.

"You hot! You know it, right? Them guys in that bar, they were checking you out," he said with his mouth inches from her ear.

Chelsea smiled and shook her head.

"It's true, they were. Don't shake your head, no... I know... I'm a guy... I know... I know..."

Trevor leaned on her more and more with each step. After a few blocks Chelsea stopped outside a grocery store.

"Do you want some water?" she asked.

"Sure, the beer flavoured kind," he replied.

"No, I think you should stick with water flavoured water. Just stay here, I'm going in there to buy some. Don't go anywhere," she said as she leaned him against the building.

Chelsea disappeared into the store for a couple minutes and returned with two large bottles of water in a bag. Trevor returned to her side and walked with her for a bit before he stopped dead and waited as she took a couple more steps.

"You— really not good at this. Hotel —s this way," he said with a drunken slur as he doubled back.

"Shit!" she said, surprised by her own language. "The guy in the store told me... And that stupid map you gave me..."

A turn and a couple blocks of walking later, she shook her head in embarrassment when they arrived at the entrance to the hotel.

"Okay, I don't get out much," Chelsea said in defense of her lack of navigation skills.

Trevor didn't attempt to hide his smug look as he stood in front of the hotel, his arms open wide as if presenting the building to the world.

"I'm good, aren' I? Ahhhh! Drop me in the desert, pissed drunk, I'd find my way to the nearest bar... Science, I suck at science, and math, so don't ask me how fast I can find it... acceler— velocity... all that sh— shit."

"Watch the step... don't trip, please," Chelsea said as Trevor negotiated the single step at the hotel entrance.

Trevor's cocky tone ended abruptly as they walked down the hall towards the room. "I'm gonna puke."

Chelsea hurried to the room with the key in hand and pushed the door open as soon as she had turned the lock. She stepped back to let him in then followed and turned on the lights. She dropped the water and her purse on the bed she had claimed nearest to the bathroom as Trevor stumbled towards the toilet. She rounded the corner into the bathroom as the heaving and sloshing sound of Trevor's diner making a return appearance filled the air. She streamed off a length of toilet paper and handed it to him.

As Trevor continued his porcelain prayer, Chelsea filled a glass with water from one of the bottles she purchased. He swilled a sip in his mouth then spit it out into the toilet bowl before he took another sip. She grabbed the glass from his hand as a few dry heaves took command of his body. She flushed the toilet then helped him out of his shirt. This was not the way she would have imagined helping Trevor undress. More water, more heaving, another flush. Chelsea then retrieved a bottle of mouthwash from her suitcase and poured a shot into another glass.

"Here, this will help get the yuk out of your mouth," she said. "You got some puke on your shirt. I'm going to clean it as much as I can."

"Shampoo... use some shampoo," Trevor suggested. "On the shirt."

Trevor sat shirtless on the bathroom floor leaning against the cool tiled wall for several minutes until Chelsea was done rinsing his shirt. She helped him to his feet and watched him stagger into the main room. He popped open his pants and dropped them to the floor then dropped face down across the bed with his pants still bunched around his ankles. She pulled her purse out from under him, removed his pants, then pulled back the covers and helped him turn lengthwise on the bed and then rolled him on his side.

"I'm going to change and brush my teeth. Are you sure you won't need the bathroom again in the next couple minutes?" she asked as she collected his jeans from the floor and folded them neatly.

Trevor's hand waved and she heard a mumbling sound from the pillow. She took it to mean he wasn't moving any time soon.

She changed into her pajamas, removed and cleaned her retainer, brushed her teeth, flossed, then filled a glass with water,checking on Trevor between each of her tasks. Before she slipped under the covers of the bed in the corner, she pulled the sheet and blanket over Trevor and whispered goodnight. For a few minutes, she looked across the dark space between the beds, then closed her eyes and started off to sleep.

The sound of Trevor getting up from bed a few hours later, startled Chelsea awake. She sat up and listened. He finished up in the bathroom and staggered back to the bed.

"Are you okay? Do you need some water? There's a glass on the night table," she said softly.

"Yeah... thanks," Trevor said as he reached for the glass.

"Do you need something? Something for your head?"

"I better not. I'll just end up puking again," he said." Thanks. You're the best."