The Destiny of Violet and Luke(32)

I get a text as I’m shutting the computer. I pick my phone up off the desk and swipe my finger over the screen. It’s from Seth, Callie’s best friend. I sometimes hang out with him and his boyfriend Greyson, since they both like to party as much as I do.


Seth: R u going out tonight?





Me: Aren’t I always?





Seth: Where u headed?





Me: Probably to the Red Ink up on 6th street. Why? You got something planned?





Seth. Not yet. Red Ink, huh? You must be looking for a skank tonight.





Me: Tonight? Don’t you mean always?





Seth: You know, rumor has it you’ve been hanging out with the biggest skank on campus.





Luke: What? Who?





Seth: A bitchy roommate with a dragon tattoo on her neck. Goes by the name of Violet.





I scratch at my head, wondering where the hell he heard that from, but then it clicks.


Luke: Did Callie tell you that?





Seth: Well, she didn’t use those words per se since Callie would never use those words, but she said she saw you helping Violet around campus… what’s that about?





Luke: Nothing. I was just being a nice guy.





Seth: Since when r u a nice guy.





He has a point. I’m not usually a nice guy, but for some reason Violet momentarily brought it out of me. I’m not feeling like a nice guy right now though. I feel pissed off about my living situation and all I want to do is get trashed out of my mind and go find a girl to f*ck so I can get rid of this feeling, like I’m falling into a bottomless pit.


Luke: I thought I’d try something different for a little bit.





Seth. How’s that going for you?





Luke: I think I’m deciding to quit it before it becomes a habit.





Seth: Good for u. U gonna do it cold turkey?





I shake my head. This could go on forever.


Luke: I’m headed out. R u and Greyson down or not?





Seth. Yeah, as long as we can get a cab. Neither one of us wants to be DD tonight and I’m doubting u do either, since u never offer.





Luke: Sounds good. Callie and Kayden coming?





Seth: They went out somewhere… I think up to that rock. They’re becoming obsessed with it and each other, lol.





Luke: Yeah… meet u out in front of my dorm in ten?





Seth: Sounds good :)





I check my insulin levels and grab my glucose tablets, just in case, then put my phone into my pocket and grab my key card and wallet. I toss my empty beer bottle into the trash and get another one out of the mini fridge, ready to get the hell out of here and start drinking even heavier. That’s what I love about spring and summer, when footballs not really going on and I’m free to get trashed as much as I like without having to worry about practice. It makes the noise and memories in my head just a little more bearable. It makes breathing bearable. Life bearable.

I started drinking when I was thirteen. I wasn’t with my friends or anything, just sitting at home after my mom had passed out on the sofa, not from heroin but from booze. She’d made me sit with her as she drank gulp after gulp, forcing me to hold her hand and coddle her like she was a sick person taking medication to numb the pain. As she started to doze off, she’d wrapped her arms around me and held me tightly against her, telling me that I would always be her little boy, and then sang a song to match her words. I hated when she did this, especially because I never felt like her little boy, even when I was seven. At that point in my life I knew our whole relationship was wrong, the things she made me do for her, like crush up her pills and the way she was always touching, but I was too ashamed to say anything and honestly I knew even then that nothing was ever going to change until I was old enough to get out of that damn house.

Finally, after holding me for way too long, she’d passed out into a deep sleep and I was able to slip out of her arms and be free for a moment. She’d left the bottle of whiskey out on the coffee table and I can remember sitting there, wondering what it tasted like, wondering why my mom needed to drink it all the time. So I picked it up and took a swig. The alcohol felt like it singed my throat and when it hit my belly it burned like fire. I was fascinated with the way it felt inside me, how the heat smothered out the wrong inside me, so I kept taking swigs until I passed out completely and for a moment, the wrong in me drifted asleep. After that, I’d always take a few drinks after she passed out and the more I did it, the more the rage and helpless feelings living in me became tolerable. And now I have a hard time functioning without it.