Chapter 8
Lying back on the bed, I stare up at the ceiling. A thin layer of smoke swirls around me from the cigarette dangling between my fingers. My mind wanders as I watch the tendrils move and dissipate. Their existence feeling about as meaningful as my own.
Drowning in the melancholy feelings, I can’t keep my mind off of them. Off of my once best friend. No matter how hard I’ve tried, I can’t stop. Like a man possessed. My every waking moment is spent thinking of all the ways to win them back into my life, no matter how detrimental that promises to be.
I need them.
My eyes drift toward the small dresser tucked in the corner of my room. I cringe at the sight of the box sitting atop it, a stupid plan I’m sure.
They probably don’t even like them anymore.
Groaning, I fling my arm over my eyes, ignoring the stabbing pain the movement causes. I might have gone a little hard on the booze last night, but I needed something to numb this increasingly painful ache I feel at knowing Nova is so close yet too far all at once.
My phone buzzes beside me, the sound thundering loud in my hungover brain. Squeezing my eyes shut, I lift my arm from my face and slap it around the bed until my fingers brush against the cell phone. Slowly pushing upright, I blink my eyes open and try to focus on the text.
Rex
Go time jailbait
My teeth grind, the need to punch the bastard in his smug face consumes me in my hungover state.
Me
You got it boss
I’ll just do this sell and then figure out a way to find Nova.
Easy peasy.
Climbing off the bed, I groan as I stretch my arms up, feeling my back muscles pull from the movement.
You’d think I’m eighty-four rather than twenty-four from the pops my body is making. That’s what happens when you’re forced to sleep on the streets and then a hard as fuck cot with little regard to how your body will fare.
My eyes look at my bed longingly. One of the few nice things I have in my tiny ass apartment. It was one of the only big purchases I’ve made since I was in a place again that I could make one. I don’t have much to my name, but I cherish what little I do have, because life has taught me that everything can be ripped away in a moment.
With one last forlorn look at my bed, I turn to exit.
I’ll be back for you later.
My mind can’t help but wander, thoughts of impossibilities filling me. Because, while all I want to do is crash back down on my ultra-cushy mattress, I can’t help but think about if I weren’t alone when I did.