Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
Southern Comfort is a bitch, but she’s a cheap bitch, so she’s my bitch. She and I have been making out since I got home, and I giggle to myself about how she’s the only girl I’ve ever made out with and enjoyed it.
My tooth hurt until I started drinking. Now, magically, it doesn’t anymore. I wonder why alcohol isn’t prescribed by doctors?
It’s hard to stand up, so I lie on my couch, staring at the ceiling.
A sad, flat ceiling, not even popcorn or butthole stamps, and that makes a wave of somber heaviness wash over me.
I’m alone in my unremarkable apartment, barely making a living, and now my car is broken down, so I probably won’t make it to Mr. Parker’s house anyway. Awesome.
I blow out a breath, eyes heating, then shake my head vigorously.
I won’t let this buzz go to waste on a fucking pity party.
After the shaking, my eyes feel heavy. I close them to rest them, just for a bit.
Then I’ll get back to feeling happy. I haven’t texted my siblings in a while.
I should check on them… right after this rest.
When I open my eyes again, the room is bright. It confuses me for a minute. What’s happening?
Squinting, I check my phone.
Fuck! It’s eight in the morning.
Bolting upright, a wave of dizziness overcomes me, and I groan, grabbing my head. What the hell? In that brief glance at my phone, I saw a bunch of missed calls, and I groan again.
Mr. Parker is gonna be furious. He’ll probably even fire me. I deserve to be fired.
I refuse to look at the phone, which starts vibrating with another call.
Cool. Awesome.
Slowly, I get myself up to brush my teeth.
How long has it been since I brushed my teeth?
I try to focus on the minty flavor instead of the pounding in my head and the nagging feeling that I should call a tow and make some excuse to Mr. Parker.
Instead, I brush harder, and it reminds me that my tooth still hurts.
Fuck. Throwing the toothbrush back in the container, I go back out to the living room to hear my phone buzzing again with vibrating energy. Answer me, answer me, answer, you’re gonna get fired, you’re gonna get fired–
I snatch the phone up and answer, “I’m sorry, Mr. Parker, I had a family emergency pop up. I’ll get there as soon as I can.”
There’s a beat of silence on the other end of the line, then a cheery voice comes down the line. “Hey, it’s Micah! You left your car here. Is everything okay?”
I suppress another groan. Right. Of course he’d notice. “It wouldn’t start.”
“Oh yeah, I figured. I took a look at it, and you needed a new battery. I swapped it out, no problem. But also, is everyone okay? Family emergency?”
He did what? Swapped it out?
I turn to examine my apartment as if that’ll give me answers. “You…it needed a new battery?”
“Yeah! Happens all the time. I just got it changed so you could drive it.”
He got it changed? My stomach flips. That’s expensive. Did he pay money for my car?
“Are you sure you’re okay? Where are you?”
“Home,” I answer automatically, then kick myself. Why the hell am I answering that? “Yeah, I’m fine. The emergency was…handled.” Still, I feel a tiny release in my chest at the concern in his voice. As soon as I feel it, I tense.
“Home? How did you get… It doesn’t matter. Do you want me to come give you a lift so you can get your car?”
My head is pounding, but I register he’s offering to help, and that tension increases.
“No, that’s okay.” My words come out a bit quicker, a bit harsher than I intended.
“It’s really not a big deal.” I hear keys jangling on the other end of the line. “What’s your address?”
I’m silent as a wave of dread drops over me, and I’m not even sure why. Why am I refusing a free ride? How the hell else am I going to get my car? It’s not like I can’t pay him back eventually. And yet, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being chased by a bunch of hornets. I grind my teeth.
“You still there?”
“Yeah.” Despite the fact that the buzz of the hornets is so strong, I can practically feel it in my bones, I rattle off my address because what choice do I have? Stung by the hornets or fired from my day job.
“Oh, hey, that’s just down the road! I’ll be there in a second, neighbor!”
I hang up the phone. I can’t drop that feeling of dread.
Still, I try to reason my way out of it.
It’s just a ride. Just a ride, and I’ll pay him back, and then I can get him to drop that note of concern.
And when that note of concern is dropped, I can relax for real.
Because concern is never really concern; it’s always a ball of hornets ready to make things hurt more than you’ve ever felt before.
I’ll pay him back, and then I’ll make sure to never be caught with my pants down again.