all american | lance tucker

ch. 20 • partying in your 20s

"Lance. I'm moving to LA." I repeated, staring up at him. His face contorted in confusion.

"What do you mean you're moving? Are you drunk?"
Just a little bit.

"What-" I sat up. "No! I got that job I applied for. The personal trainer. It's for Olympic athletes and I'd be paid a lot more than one I'm paid now. Easily in the six figures."

"So what, you just expect me to move across the world too?" He scoffed. He was still sitting on top of me.

"No, Lance. I really don't." I said quietly, avoiding his eyes. He was angry.

"So let me get this straight." He slid off me, standing up in between my legs and crossing his arms. "You want to move across the country, which you have never done, you don't plan on bringing me with you, and, the best part, we have four kids together." He looked betrayed.

"Lance, this ain't an offer I can take lightly. This is the chance of a lifetime." I argued, begging him to understand where I was coming from. He shook his head exasperatedly.

"So? You have kids, a life, family! You can't just leave that all in the dust!" He shouted. He was getting more aggravated by the second. I pulled at the ends of my hair.

"Lance, I fucking hate it here. I've done the same thing everyday for almost five years now. I hate it. I just want to be happy." I cried. Tears were starting to blur my vision.

"You could change things. I'll give you my goddamn job if it keeps you from moving across the country." He snapped. He raised his hand to my face angrily, and I flinched, scared he was going to hit me. But no, he just furiously wiped the tears off my face. "I can't even look at you right now."

"Well you're gonna have to, because I'm not just going to let you control me."

"I'm not trying to control you. I'm trying to get you to see my side of this. You're being crazy." He pinched the bridge of his nose again. I shook my head.

"Fine. Have it your way. I'll just stay here and go home." I muttered. "Your haircut is ugly." I pushed past him, into the living room before grabbing my keys, and walking out. I stomped down the hallway to my apartment, unlocking it and slamming the door behind me.

Over the past few days, I had been building a collection of empty bottles on and around the coffee table and couch, all of which were alcohol. I went to the fridge, pulling out a half full bottle of tequila and Canada Dry for a chaser. I sat down on the couch, moving bottles out of the way with my feet so that I could put them up on the coffee table.

I was becoming increasingly dependent on alcohol to make me feel okay, and I knew in the back of my head that probably wasn't very good, but I usually thought with the front of my head so it didn't really affect me. I opened the bottle, inhaling the sharp scent of straight alcohol. I took the longest drink I could, following it with the Canada Dry soon after. It burned, but I didn't care. I considered leaving, but partying alone was a buzz kill. Verity. She had a house. We could have a party. She picked up immediately.

"Hey! Haven't heard from you in a while!" She said cheerily. There was noise in the background.

"Yeah, missed you. What're you doing?"

"Asia and Kiera are over. We're watching the bachelor." She explained. I could hear liquid pouring. I bit my lip.

"So, what if we had a party? We haven't had one for a long time." I asked, hoping she would accept.

"Like, at the house? Jesus, I don't even have any alcohol." She seemed thoughtful.

"Ask people to bring some. I can pick some up. And solo cups."