Benevolence

Chapter 27: Relapse

Like the insides of a lava lamp, the walls boarding this room appear to be liquidating. Circling the peripherals of my vision, clouding the surface of my irises, it reminds me that I'm out of it. Gassed, plastered, inebriated-- out of it.

Run like it's not what got us here in the first place!

"How could she say that?" I ask myself, circling the rim of my glass with my index finger.

I'm at the local pub, secluded to the far end of the bar and it's only because David kicked me out. He let me use his bathroom, so I left his place feeling much more refreshed than how I came in. But we must've shared two fat blunts of Gorilla Glue before he got worried. He realized I was nearing another blackout and admitted he didn't want to bear witness to episode two of what happened over Spring break. "Dude, you scared the fuck outta me," he said. He didn't even want me driving alone. But after convincing him that I'm a far more focused driver when high, he sent me on my way. I lied, by the way. I'm surprised I even made it to the bar.

As for Drew, he hasn't answered any of my calls since I left my house. "Hey," I slur, trying my best to cover the despair in my voice. "We were supposed to meet today...Where are you?" I hold the phone away from my face as if he'll magically appear on the screen with that stupid grin that I love. "I know I should've called sooner, but I--I'm at this pub...I--I don't know if you know about it. It's not too far from Jim's, sorry, Curbed Brewed." You'll never catch him at a coffee shop. I giggle. "You should uh, you should stop by. Maybe we can share a drink." Even though I already drank for the two of us. I gnaw at my lips calling him again and again, only to meet his voicemail.

I look across the bar. There are people here with their friends, others out with their lovers, a select few who look to be in search of one...I look at the entrance just in time to see a group of girls walk in, and have to do a double-take at who comes in last: Yazmine.

I roll my eyes, turning back towards the bar. "Another round please," I say to the bartender. My only hope is that she stays far away from me.

"You sure?" He asks, quirking a brow.

I cock my head to the side. "It's your job to serve, not to ask questions," I snap. I came here around ten, it's going on twelve. It'll make my stay much more enjoyable if he keeps the comments and the interrogations to a minimum.

"...You good, Sis?"

The bartender looks behind me and I inhale deeply as not to do anything stupid. "Well, look who it is," I say, turning in my stool. "Aren't you happy to...to see me?" I slur, not hiding my sarcasm. "You can go run and tell all your friends that you saw me for yourself, drunk off my ass." I drain the old glass and pick up the new one. "What the fuck do you want Yazmine?"

She looks down at all the shot glasses, then up at my face which has a very noticeable bruise. An unrecognizable look enters her eyes: Fear. Funny how a little taste of reality can get a stone-cold bitch to show a little sentiment. Maybe if it were then, I would've accepted her pity. But not now.

"Are you tone deaf?" I ask.

"Yo, throw all this shit out. Can't you see she's fucked up?" She says to the bartender.

"You're literally the last person I want to be dictating my rights from wrongs right now," I say slowly.

"Look, I know we don't fuck with each other like that, anymore, but—

--You're right. So leave me the fuck alone," I say.

"Alaina--

--What?!" I yell, growing impatient. "Is it that the clock struck 12 and you're suddenly invested in my well being. Whatever happened to the Yazmine that wanted me to 'figure it out alone'... that didn't want to get dragged into my mess. Get the fuck. Out of my face," I say.