Текст книги "Triangle: The Complete Series"

Автор книги: Susann Julieva

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the show, what it could do for us, and every person on this stage wants it as much as the next one.

And why do I want it? Shit, that should be obvious… This is the one thing I have that I’m good at.

And it has nothing to do with either one of my parents. It’s the one thing where I can get up in front of

people and make them watch me. I can say “screw you” to my parents and people love me for it. It’s the

best job I can imagine.

If I can only convince Jeff to give me the role. I wish I knew what he’s looking for – what he’s

expecting of us and of the part. It would make this audition a whole lot easier.

Of course, that’s why he hasn’t dropped any hints at all. He wants to see what we come up with.

Brilliant asshole.

At least my hands are steady, though. I had to tear my entire room apart this morning before my

shower, but I managed to find a tiny emergency stash I’d hidden who knows how long ago. Lucky

thing, because I seriously doubt that Horatio is supposed to be as twitchy as I was earlier.

Now though, now I’m loose and relaxed, except for that pit of nerves in my stomach that comes with

every audition. Everything I talked about and practiced with Rizzo is right there in my brain…

* * *

“It’s not there yet. You’ve got the lines but it doesn’t sound right.” I can feel the bed almost moving,

so I tip my head back and follow the long line of his body up and see that he’s shaking his head at me. I

just blink at him and relax again, looking at the wall across the room.

We’re lying on his bed, completely naked, talking about Shakespeare and auditions. He’s still

propped up against the headboard, my audition piece held loosely in one hand. I’m using his thigh as a

pillow, lying with one foot hanging off the end of the bed.

“Come on, Keller, do you want this part or not?”

I don’t look up at him, but I frown at the question. “Of course I do.”

“Then show me. Your Horatio’s boring. And I’m not going to let a boring Horatio on my stage.” He

sits up more, and I shift over to let him, turning myself so that I can watch him.

He takes just a second to look at me, then he’s moving and suddenly on top of me, propped up on

those amazing arms, and I’ve barely had time to blink. He grins.

“You need more passion. Intensity.”

“I need more passion? Right. And what does the ‘master actor’ suggest I do to get this intensity?”

He laughs at me and shifts his hips, and I’m gasping and arching like the whore he makes me into.

His voice is suddenly in my head and running along my body, all at the same time.

“Say the lines again, Nick.”

And I do, while he keeps moving against me. I finish them with my fingers digging into Rizzo’s

shoulders, and I don’t care that he’s laughing, because the lines have feeling, and passion, and Rizzo’s a

goddamn genius.

…And now if I can only remember exactly how that felt, I can’t go wrong with this audition.

I see Jeff raising his eyebrows at me, and apparently it’s my turn. I grin at him and step forward, and

he nods at me.

Here we go…

Chapter 9

Halloween Son

JAMES: I hate Halloween. With a passion. Not because it’s a Celtic holiday turned into a ridiculous

marketing gag for candy companies, but because the day where everyone gets to dress up as cowboys,

monsters, and fairytale princesses happens to be my birthday.

We had an unwritten law back home, and that law said that October 31 had to be made the most

miserable day of the year for me. Something really shitty always happened, and I’m not talking about

everyday oh I just spilled my milk shitty. Really shitty. Can someone just put me out of my misery shitty.

Even with Simon gone, this year looks quite promising for shitty things to happen. I can almost feel

it, lurking in the background and snickering in a creepy, manic way. Next week I’m gonna be told

whether I get to go to Berlin or not. Next week my entire life is gonna get changed around – or not. And

like I need even more pressure, Casey has been acting weird lately.

I don’t know, sometimes I miss the old times when we were “just friends”. Everything seemed so

much easier then. But then I remember how unbearable it was, not being able to have him. I’d prefer

getting my toenails ripped out one by one to that torture.

And then I sometimes feel like I’m such a disappointment to him. It’s not like I’m not trying to

change and be more open. And with the new position as editor, improved social skills are much needed.

I’ll never get why they picked me. I’m crap at team work. And I’m even more crap at running this show

without having everyone in tears by the end of the day. I’m the critic from hell that everybody fears. I

tell people when their writing sucks. Unfortunately, it usually does. And when the writing doesn’t suck,

the research is an insult to journalism itself. Rhea told me that the freshmen are absolutely terrified of

me. And they’re not even allowed to write for the paper yet. Go figure.

There are days when I just feel so old. Like I’ve lived all of this twisted shit at least twice, and it’s on

endless loop. Don’t dream. Don’t hope. Reality will turn out to be a hell of a lot worse than you’d ever

be able to imagine. Every good thing has its flaw. Nothing in this world is perfect or lasts forever.

What’s happening to us? Why does it feel like Casey is slipping away? Every so often, it doesn’t

even feel like he’s with me when he’s with me anymore. And I wonder where he is, or with whom.

* * *

There’s a full moon outside my window, looking in. Mountains of heavy black clouds are drifting past it

like monsters from another dimension. In the pale light, most of the trees are standing bare like

skeletons against the bitter sky. If it weren’t way too early in the year, I’d say it looks like snow.

Happy birthday, Foley. The powerful bell of the old campus clock tower just struck twelve. I close

my book to call it a night. The small reading lamp on my desk leaves everything but the desk itself in

utter darkness. Witching hour. Witching hour on my birthday. That’s like Friday the thirteenth squared.

My stomach clenches like a nervous fist and my skin covers with goosebumps instantly.

There’s someone in my room, some kind of presence, hidden in the shadows. Someone is watching

me. I can almost feel the ghost of Simon hovering in the air behind my back, his breath pure ice on the

naked skin of my neck. It’s making all my hair stand on end.

“What did you expect, James?” a voice like metal scraping over glass whispers through the darkness

behind me. “Do you think you deserve more than this?”

There’s a knock on the door and I nearly jump out of my seat. Ripped out of my daze, my heart is

beating like crazy. Adrenaline’s pulsing through my veins when I get up from my chair and cross the

room to answer. It’s Casey. Oh god, I’m so relieved. So happy to see his face right now! He falls into

the room and flings his arms around my neck.

“Happy birthday, James!”

I swing him around and laugh when he starts to cover my face with kisses, until our mouths meet

and we come to a halt. I close my eyes and press myself up against him, and he kisses me deeply and

pulls me close with such devotion that I feel like jumping for joy. I feel like I’ve just gotten back what

I’ve been missing, without even knowing what it was.

When we part, we grin at each other and I tousle his hair. “I thought you were tired and had an early

morning coming up!”

He laughs mischievously. “Well, I lied. I wanted to surprise you!”

“I daresay it worked.”

“Here.” He pulls something out of the back pocket of his jeans and hands it to me. “This is for you.”

I glance at the present, then back at him, a warm feeling spreading through my body. “You know

there’s no need to…”

“There is need. I know we said it wasn’t necessary, but I wanted to give you something. I hope it’ll

come in handy.”

He’s beaming at me, and I can’t help but smile. The small, flat box is wrapped in pretty paper, and

it’s unexpectedly heavy for its size.

“Go on, open it!”

So I do, and I blink when I hold his present in my hand. It’s a silver dictating machine. Damn! That’s

just way too cool.

“Thank you! That’s… wow. That’s just what I need.”

“I’d hoped it would be.” He’s beaming even more now, and I pull him close for a kiss. He looks into

my eyes with warmth when we part.

“Mr. Editor in Chief. I’m so proud of you, do you know that?”

I swallow, and pull him into a hug. His body is warm and solid against mine, and it feels so good. I

could stay like this for a long time, but he pulls back and smiles at me.

“There was another present leaning outside your door, I wasn’t sure if I should bring it in. Should I

go get?”

“Sure.” I can’t hide a frown. Another present? What’s this all about?

When Casey returns a minute later, he’s carrying a relatively large, flat, heavy-looking thing inside

and presents it to me. It’s wrapped in elegant glossy paper. Astounded, I stand and stare at it without

taking the thing, half-expecting it to explode any second. Since there’s no suspicious ticking sound, I

finally accept it, and it really is heavy. Could be a book, a huge one. Who’d get me something like this?

Who’d get me anything at all? How bizarre.

“There’s no card,” Casey says, and curiously looks at me.

No card. Damn. I think I have a hunch who this is from, after all.

“Aren’t you gonna open it?”

“Sure. I’ll do it later.” I quickly put it aside, as if it really were that unimportant. In actuality, I’m

nearly dying from suspense. What is it? Is it really from whom I think it is? And why? Why would he

get me anything for my birthday? Why would he even know that it’s my birthday today?

“I’d rather celebrate with you right now.”

Casey smiles knowingly, and crosses the short distance between us to kiss me. Something raw and

hungry springs to life inside, and mingles with the love I’m feeling. I ache to feel him, want him, need

him now. Hands fumbling, our tongues playing, we stumble towards the bed.

* * *

Afterwards, I lie awake and listen to the sound of his even breathing for a long time. I’m cold on the

inside, frozen. Everything I’ve been suspecting, fearing for a while now has been proven true tonight.

He doesn’t belong to me anymore.

There was no real feeling in the sex, not from his side. I was making love to him, and he was

allowing it. Without giving much back. Nothing true, nothing real. Nothing like real passion. Nothing

like what it used to be. It was routine. It was quick like a hurried rush, and sobering as it passed. And

the bitter aftertaste is still in my mouth.

I feel so wounded right now. The tears that I can’t cry are almost choking me. What’s happening,

Casey? Where are you? Who are you with? Who are you thinking of when we’re together? Can’t you

either hide it better, or finally talk to me?

This isn’t working. For the first time, I feel that it’s the cold and bitter truth. I’m not finding what I

need here. That’s why I’m secretly seeking it with somebody else, even though I couldn’t admit it until

now. And you are too, Case. I know that now. And it hurts, because I love you still. I may never be able

to say it, but I do.

Things will look brighter again in the morning. And I’ll tell myself, it’s not that bad. We can work it

out. And I’ll know that it’s nonsense, but I’ll cling to it. And so will you.

I can’t lose you, Casey. I can’t lose your kindness, and your friendship. I can’t lose your belief that

I’m a better person than I am. I can’t lose your love. I can’t lose you. I can’t.

I swallow hard and carefully slip out of bed. The mystery present is still lying on my desk,

shimmering in the bright moonlight. I stare at it for a long moment, feeling defeated. I will have to push

these feelings back, suppress them, like I’ve learned to do. I will have to before the morning comes.

And the new night, with that stupid Halloween party I’ve foolishly agreed to come along to with Casey.

But it’s not morning yet.

My fingers are trembling when I tear the expensive paper apart. I was right. There’s only one person

on this planet that this could be from. No card needed. I get a lump in my throat when I tenderly run my

fingers over the glossy cover. It’s an awesome, expensive illustrated book about Berlin.

* * *

It’s still my birthday, and will be for two more hours. Just two hours, and how much worse can things

get in so little time? Well, knowing me and my life, pretty much anything could happen.

We’re at the big Halloween bash, and there’s something here that makes me remember why I didn’t

want to come: People. There’s people here. Tons of ‘em. People in the most ridiculous costumes, just

dancing, partying, shouting. I couldn’t be forced to wear a costume when threatened with electroshock

treatment, but Casey looks mighty fine in his Grease outfit, with the borrowed black leather jacket, the

tight black denim, and a cigarette tugged behind his ear. He’s doing an alright job with the attitude too, I

think. I can’t stop staring at him, but it hurts.

I got through most of my birthday okay, although it did start with me running into Anna wearing a

wig and a dress that made her look like someone’s aunt, barking at me that she was gonna be Simone de

Beauvoir today. Scarred for life, I tell you.

Then my dear school paper colleagues thought I would enjoy having a surprise party bestowed upon

me, and forced me to eat cake so disgustingly sweet my stomach’s still recovering. But now, after

having just spent a rather draining hour in Casey’s room, deliberately not talking about the things we

probably should be talking about, it’s almost not completely bad being at the party. The punch really

sucks, though.

Invisible fanfares announce the arrival of His Majesty the King, and everybody seems to stop talking

for a few seconds. And sure enough, a minute later, Rizzo casually enters the room with his date. I only

get a glimpse before they’re immediately surrounded – like he’s some kind of rock star.

I exchange a look with Casey, and his smile seems to carry a trace of sadness somehow.

“That’s just the way he is, I guess,” he says quietly, and I nod.

“Yeah, that’s the way he is.”

I let my gaze wander through the room, and frown when I notice someone staring at me darkly.

Great. Look who’s here: Danny’s little “friend” from the cafe, aka the Tall Pale Nuisance that just

doesn’t seem to know his place. And wow, in such a brilliant disguise too, wearing a dark red shirt

instead of the usual black one. Nearly unrecognizable, if it weren’t for that familiar murderous look he’s

giving me. I’m not even gonna dignify this by staring back. I don’t get a chance to anyway, because

suddenly Danny steps to Casey and me, and I turn around to face him.

Tonight he‘s dressed all in black, with a head scarf that gives him the air of a bandit. His ruffled shirt

is unbuttoned all the way down to the last two, showing that amazing, perfectly tanned chest that just

makes me want to whimper. I don’t even dare to take a closer look at his costume. He has a sword, and

a pistol too.

“Who’re you supposed to be? Zorro?”

“Me? I’m a pirate, mate,” Rizzo grins roguishly. Dude. He’s got a fake gold tooth! And a golden

earring, I notice now. Looks awesome. And he’s sizzling as ever, maybe even more so tonight with that

sparkle in his eyes. Casey’s positively drooling, and I can’t even blame him. Who wouldn’t?

“And your date?” Casey asks with a glance at the girl in the pretentious period dress across the

room.

“She’s Scarlett. I was supposed to be Rhett, but the man has no sword, and I had to have a sword. So

now she’s that lass from Pirates of the Caribbean.”

“Elizabeth,” Casey helps quickly.

“Bless you, laddie, that’s the name.” Danny grins, doing a fine pirate accent, and nonchalantly leans

on his shoulder. Casey seems to tense at the touch, and Danny’s grin broadens when he leans in close to

his face. “Where’s the rum, boy?”

“Uh. They have punch over there.”

“Punch.” Rizzo arches his eyebrow only slightly, but there’s something truly menacing to it, and

once again I know exactly why he’s the reigning star of the drama department. Then that irresistible

roguish grin is on his lips again. “I think we can do better than that!”

He gives Casey a little push in my direction, winks at me, and disappears in the crowd. A minute

later, I get a brief glance of a funny looking King Kong handing our pirate a small bottle with dark

liquor, then the two of them are gone.

* * *

Okay, I’ve really had it now. With this messed up birthday, and this hellhole of a party. Everybody just

keeps disappearing! Where the hell did he go? I can’t see Casey anymore as I’m fighting my way back

through the swaying masses with two brimful paper cups occupying my hands. Punch for him, mineral

water for me, and I’m mincing like a ballerina, trying to avoid elbows and people abruptly stepping

backwards for no apparent reason. It’s all moving bodies and absolutely no air, and a wave of

claustrophobia is just about ready to hit me. I manage to dodge an enthusiastically outstretched arm,

when suddenly someone bumps into me really hard from behind. I get pushed into the next guy’s back

like it’s a goddamned game of dominos, beautifully emptying the entire content of my cups on him.

“Hey, what the hell?!” the involuntarily showered one snaps angrily.

“Ah, for god’s sake!” First I turn the other way and stare right into the yellow eyes of Dracula, who

was apparently waltzing with a chick who’s either supposed to be a mermaid or a really bizarre looking

dragonfly.

“Forry,” his fanged mouth opens to a wry smile. Before I even get a chance to inform this jerk that

this is not the dance floor, I get an unexpected push from my other side. Irritated, I spin back around to

stare into a pair of really pissed off eyes.

“Back off, asshole!” someone spits at me.

I push back automatically, before I even recognize Goth Boy. “What’s your problem, man?”

With the black eyeliner smeared, his blue eyes seem all the more intense, virtually turning into fiery

daggers as he gets even more worked up. “My problem is that I’ve got an arrogant little fucker spilling

punch all over me!”

And it keeps getting better and better. Out of all of campus assembled, of course it had to be him

Dracula pushed me into. Why am I even surprised? Trust good ol’ Foley to find the most strained and

worst possible moment to have his first face to face encounter with this son of a bitch. “Do I look like I

did it on purpose?”

“Well, why else would you be spilling your crap all over me?”

Oh boy. This doesn’t bode well for either one of us getting out of this little heart-to-heart without a

couple of bruises. I take a deep breath and try to stay calm, and I say to him like I would to a little child:

“Room full of people. Carrying punch does not seem to go with that.” I guess I should also apologize,

but then again, that jerk shoved me. And so I just glare at him instead.

“Right. And I’m supposed to believe that it’s some huge coincidence that you spill it on me? I’m not

buying it.”

I roll my eyes. From the gigantic size of his widened pupils, I’m prepared to encounter a bit of

paranoia. “Well then, don’t. Whatever.”

“Don’t give me your damn ‘whatever’. Not when you’re coming over here, ruining my shirt and

pissing me off.”

“Right, that’s my purpose in life, pissing you off. All I do every day is wonder how to best piss off

Rizzo’s little lap dog.”

Bingo. For this, I immediately earn another hard push, and my being impressed with his eloquent

ways is growing by the minute. Real smooth. God, I really, really want to shove that bastard’s pushing

hands right down his throat. It’s not like I’d be missing much of a conversation.

“Screw you! I don’t even know what he sees in you!”

I don’t blink when I stare into his eyes, and he’s staring right back at me. “Someone not as messed

up as you are, I’d say, you sad little punk.”

The reaction to my calm words is unexpectedly rapid, and even more unexpectedly painful, because

this time, the push is so damn hard, it rams me right into a table, loudly knocking all kinds of things off

it; glass scatters on the floor. Oh hell! Everyone around us stops dead and gapes mindlessly.

“That’s not too difficult, is it?” His thoughtless reply is pure hatred, and it takes him at least three

seconds to realize what a clever thing he just said.

I smirk. “No, not really.” Slowly I stand up straight again and stare into the pale boy’s eyes.

“What’re you gonna do next, sophisticated? Hit me?”

Our audience starts to laugh, and I think I even hear some cheers, but I pay no attention to them.

Right now, I’m locked in his gaze, as he is in mine. And I swear, I can tell that he wants to beat the

living shit out of me, so much. But now he can’t, and even in his current state, he gets it, and it

infuriates him even more. I seriously doubt he’d manage to land a hit without tripping over his own feet

if he tried. My fist is practically twitching to be sent straight into his face, but I will not start a fight on

October 31. Never again. Not a chance in hell.

He’s standing so close to me that I can feel his hot breath on my face. I’m trying to force myself to

calm down, but I can’t keep from glaring at him loathingly. All muscles underneath his white skin are

alert with tension. His eyes drop to my lips, for a split second only. But that moment is very clear, and

somewhat sobering. Then he frowns, and I frown with him.

Suddenly there’s a strong hand on my arm, shoving me back a little, and him into the opposite

direction.

“Hey you idiots, knock it off!”

Anna de Beauvoir hooks her arms under Goth Boy’s from behind, and mercilessly pulls him the first

few steps away from me. And you better believe that militant dyke has the strength to do it. She

mumbles something about cavemen and there being no evolution for our sex, but I’m too busy

continuing to stare at Goth through narrow eyes to really listen to her. He manages to free himself and

angrily shakes off her hands. But he just throws me another dark look before he pushes through the

crowd and disappears.

What the hell was that all about?

* * *

It’s no use. I’m never gonna be able to find Casey in this insane crowd. God, I really hate my birthday.

With a deep sigh I lean against a wall and immediately wince. Damn! My back hurts from my previous

encounter with the edge of a table. What a miserable, completely messed up night this is. But what was

I expecting?

The feeling of loss and of loneliness that I’ve been carrying around all day deepens. Standing still,

all alone in the crowd, I’m watching the blur of happy faces passing me by. A nice strong drink would

be a fine thing now, and I long for that familiar hot sting in my throat. But history has shown that it’s

never a good idea for me to get drunk and lose control on this particular day of the year.

“I thought you hated parties,” Captain Danny Sparrow grins when he magically appears at my side,

out of nowhere it seems. How does he always seem to be able to find me anywhere?

“I do.” Hell, I can’t even begin to say how good it feels to see his face right now. Forget the drink,

this is way better. I even manage a very vague half-smile.

He tilts his head slightly, thoughtfully studying my face as though trying to read my mind. His small

smile is teasing, but there’s a warm sparkle in his eyes. “Then what are you doing here?”

“Well, it’s Halloween. And Casey wanted to come.” I have to almost shout to make myself heard

over the noise. Danny steps closer to me, and if I weren’t propped up against a wall already, I’d move

backwards instinctively to keep the minimum safety distance.

“Yes, but what are you doing here?”

I get what he’s trying to tell me with this, and it irritates me, because he’s right. Yes, I’m only here

because of Casey, because he really wanted to come. And Danny’s also wrong, because there’s nothing I

wouldn’t do to keep things with Casey working for just one more day. Always for one more day, for as

long as I can.

“You’d never change for anyone, would you?”

“People don’t change, Jimmy. You know that.”

“All the same. Would you?”

The pirate smiles before he takes a sip of his beer, and I’d love to be that dark and bitter fluid right

now, just to be swallowed like that. If he knew… if I could only talk about it all. To someone. To him. I

wish he’d simply grab me and take me away, to a place where this freak show called my life is nothing

but a bad dream.

Danny’s expression becomes an interesting mixture of mischievous and pensive while he ponders

my question. “Someone once told me: the most important thing in a relationship is the ability to accept

the other’s flaws without wanting to change them.”

“Would you call sleeping around a flaw?” I ask ironically.

“Are we talking about you or me now?” he grins.

I laugh dryly, but the truth of it stings. “You seduced me.”

“I could do it again. If it weren’t for that flaw you got. That Mills guy, you know.”

“Does that mean you could accept that he and I are together?”

“Have I done anything to make you think otherwise? Have I even touched you since summer?”

Well, true. He hasn’t. “But then again, we’re not in a relationship, you and I. Ergo you don’t need to

accept my flaws.”

Danny laughs, and it sounds like velvet and freedom. “You just reduced your own chastity to

absurdity, Einstein!”

Hell, if not mine, then certainly his. If you can even make a connection between Rizzo and chastity

without annihilating the entire existence of life on this planet. It’s like bringing antimatter together with

matter.

I’m still wrapped up in the poetry of this thought when he suddenly grabs my arm and just snatches

me away from all the noise. Effortlessly he steers me through the crowd, out of the room and out the

backdoor. I step into complete and utter darkness. It takes my pupils a long moment to adjust. It’s

freezing out here.

The night vibrates with screams and laughter from the distance, where bizarre masks and costumes

are roaming and playing tricks on anyone so unlucky to cross their path. Garlands of toilet paper are

decorating the trees of Shriner’s Park.

Danny’s hands are on me and he’s pressed up against me in a moment, like a heat wave hitting me in

the chill of the night. God, it’s been so long, and is that why it’s all it takes to make me so hard? I can’t

breathe when he slides his tongue inside my mouth, and my body goes completely rigid with desire so

intense it causes physical pain. He whispers, breathes my name into my ear, and my fingers sharply

claw into his back to bring him even closer to me. I want his hands on me, tighter, harder, I don’t give a

shit about the sharp pain shooting through my back at the touch. And suddenly there’s clarity. There’s

another reason why things with Casey aren’t working, one that I didn’t want to see: He’s that reason.

“Danny,” I whisper his name. And he responds, with such heated passion it makes me feel dizzy and

drunk.

His hands are all over me, my hands are all over him, and we’re panting into the ecstasy of the kiss.

It’s like a hard drug being injected into my veins, pulsing through my body and completely blowing my

mind. His scent alone is driving me over the edge.

This very moment is all that matters. There’s nothing else. There’s no past, no future, there’s only

right now. And this is the real thing. This is the real thing, and I realize that it’s true. There’s nothing

else comes close.

Virtually unable to hold it back like a school boy, I violently come with such sweet, painful pleasure,

and limply sink against him. And he catches me, and holds me.

He’s so warm against me, and his arms feel good around my body. His cheek is soft against mine as

he calmly breathes the rest of the tension away. His breath flutters like wings over my skin when he

bends down to tenderly kiss my neck, and he seems to tremble a little. I’d completely lost all awareness

of how freezing it was out here.

Something icy and wet gently touches my face. Slowly I lean back and look up at the sky, and a

snowflake elegantly sails through the air and lands directly on the tip of my nose.

I don’t believe it. The first snow this year, and the ground all around us is already covered with a

thin layer of white fluff. Flakes are whirling through the air, and deep silence falls over campus, the

kind of ethereal silence only snowfall can cause.

And we just stand there, in each other’s arms, and watch in amazement. My heart is beating like it’s

gonna burst. I don’t believe in signs, but this is one is so high-profile, it could make even me a believer.

Danny smiles at me, and with the head scarf gone and fallen to the ground, snowflakes in his dark

hair, his skin seeming to glow somehow, he’s the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in my life.

“Happy birthday,” he whispers.

Chapter 10

Outside

NICK: I wake up to the sound of my next-door neighbor screwing his girlfriend. No, I take that back.

Not screwing her. Making love to her. At 7:30 in the morning. Now, I’m all for getting some in the

morning, but it’s usually wake up, do your thing, find your clothes, and run.

But not them. No, they’ve been at this for almost half an hour now. All “oh baby, I love you,” and

“yes, perfect, oooh,” and “sweetheart,” and so many other things. She lives out of state, so when they

get together, they spend all their time declaring their undying love for each other. It makes me want to

vomit.

So I do. Into my garbage can.

Okay, that might actually be from the hangover I have right now. Lately I haven’t been getting them,

and let’s just pretend it’s not because I haven’t gotten sober enough to even have a hangover.

This morning though, it’s there, and just as painful as ever. Like it’s trying to make up for those

mornings I was still drunk enough to not have one. Like I cheated it out of making me feel like shit, and

this is its revenge.

And the greatest part is that there’s absolutely nothing in my room to help me out. Unless you count

aspirin and water. Which I don’t. Obviously.

At this point I figure my day will get better. It has to, right?

It doesn’t.

* * *

I skipped classes today, figuring that getting my head to stop pounding was more important. I’ve eaten,