The Other Side(30)
“You should go home,” I volley back. That brings his eyes, underscored with weariness, to mine, and I lift my eyebrows in response and hold him in a stare. It’s not something I usually do. Eye contact like this makes me squirm, but I’m pissed and if he’s going to call me out then I’m going to call him out too. “You were blackout drunk; you could’ve died the other night.”
When the dark truth hits, the connection severs and his eyes drop to his lap. I think it’s because he’s mad, but when he asks, “Did you get me into bed?” I know it’s subdued humiliation.
I nod. “Taber came home late and found you downstairs by the front door. He knocked on our door and told me and we carried you up together.”
His big, calloused hands scrub over his face like he’s trying to erase the past…or maybe he’s trying to erase the present. “Did Cliff see any of it?”
I flick ash into the ashtray in front of me and take another drag before I answer. “No. He was sleeping.”
Running his hands through his hair, he rests his head against the wall behind him and shakes it in disgust. “I figured he didn’t, he would’ve rubbed it in my face until the irony was tattooed. Hypocrites make horrible disciplinarians. I’m not cut out for this,” he mutters, scolding himself.
I finish my cigarette and as soon as I snub it out, I want another one. I throw Dan a look to make sure Johnny wasn’t bluffing about snitching on me, but when he gives his head a single, irrefutable, hard shake, I know he wasn’t. I sigh, because tonight of all nights I need this. I need to dive headfirst into diversion. To feint reality. To forget reality.
Which Johnny brings front and center when he asks, “Any calls today?”
I huff, and it almost sounds like a humorless laugh. Except I don’t laugh. “That son of a bitch Taber needs a new flapper for his toilet.”
“Son of a bitch? Those are fighting words.” Johnny sounds mildly intrigued.
I give him nothing but a shrug and swivel on my stool. Crossing my arms, I wait out tonight’s redemption.
Ten minutes later, a group of three women walks in. When they immediately stop and a trio of discerning eyes travel a loop around the room, I know they’ve stumbled in here by mistake and they’re two seconds away from deciding this was a bad idea. Or maybe not such a bad idea, when they take a seat at the nearest table and order a round of beers. They look out of place, like a full color rainbow in a sepia photo. They’re dressed for a night out and it makes me wonder if they’re tourists who ended up in the wrong part of town, or maybe they’re waiting on the music venue a few blocks away to open and are having a drink or two beforehand.
I’m watching the two guys playing pool and replaying the sounds of Taber cheating on Alice in my mind, until it turns into an insane, tortuous soundtrack that’s competing for my attention with The Rolling Stone’s “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” playing on the jukebox. The song wins because it’s an accurate synopsis of the past, near and far, as well as prophetic of the future. That, and it’s less depressing than Taber’s betrayal.
I’m lost in thought, my anger, and the song, when Johnny’s voice brings me back to the present. He’s leaning forward on his stool and he’s talking low. “Don’t do it. You need to go home.”
I turn my head, but not my body, to look at him. He’s leaning back into the wall, and I’m about to ask him what that’s supposed to mean when his eyes jump pointedly over my shoulder. When my head swivels back around, the blonde from the pack of three is standing in front of me. Her smile is a striptease. “We’re getting out of here, do you wanna come party with us?”
The offer of escape.
It’s like she’s answered my prayers.
An uncharacteristic, Yes, is on the tip of my tongue.
Until the blonde morphs into another blonde.
The only blonde who matters.
I shake my head and mutter, “No,” before I turn to face Johnny and mutter, “I need to go. There’s something I need to do,” while shaking two cigarettes from his pack. Stuffing one in my sweatshirt pocket and lighting the other. “These are illegal for minors too, you know?” I say, holding up the lit cigarette in my hand.
Johnny’s eyes slide to the side to meet mine. “I’m choosing to ignore that one for now, don’t make me change my mind.”
When I hop off the stool, the girls are gone. Dan tips his chin to me on my way out. I do the same in return. I’ll be back soon, you can drink in Colorado when you’re eighteen and I have a birthday coming up.
When I walk outside, the sun is low in the sky, setting over the mountains in the distance. The Victorian on Clarkson is only down the street from Dan’s so I haven’t even finished the cigarette by the time I get there. Each stair passing underfoot amplifies my anxiety. She’s going to be heartbroken. I don’t want to deliver the news that breaks her heart.
And by the time I’m standing in front of 2A’s door, hand raised and poised to knock, my courage plummets and I can’t do it.
I can’t break Alice’s heart. I can’t watch the revelation dissolve her.
My Friday nights are spent dealing with the aftermath of situations like this. I don’t think I can be the agent who provokes the disclosure of it.
Blissfully unaware is still blissful.