Chapter Seven
I didn’t get any sleep at all last night. Every single noise I heard would bolt me right off the couch in hopes that it was Lake. It never was.
I put on a pot of coffee and walk to the window. Her house is quiet-the shades are all drawn. Her car is still in the driveway, so I know she’s home. I’m so used to seeing the gnomes line the driveway next to her car. They aren’t there anymore, though. After her mother died, Lake gathered all the gnomes and threw them in the trash. She doesn’t know it, but I dug one out and kept it. The one with the broken red hat.
I remember walking out of my house the morning after they moved here and seeing her dart out the front door with no jacket…in house shoes. I knew as soon as those shoes hit the pavement, she was going to bust her butt. Sure enough, she did. I couldn’t help but laugh. Southerners seem to underestimate the power of cold weather.
I hated that she had cut herself when she landed on the gnome, but was so happy I had the excuse to spend those few minutes with her that morning. After I put the bandage on her and she left, I spent the entire day at work in a daze. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I was so nervous my life and the responsibilities I had would scare her off before I got the chance to know her. I didn’t want to tell her about it right away, but the night of our first date I knew I had to tell her. There was something about her that was so much more than all the other girls I’ve known. She had this resiliency and confidence about her.
I wanted to be sure that Lake knew what my life was about that night. I wanted her to know about my parents, about Caulder, about my passion. I needed her to know the real me, and understand who I was before we took it any further. When she watched her first performance that night, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. I saw the passion and depth in her eyes as she watched the stage, and I fell in love with her. I’ve loved her every second since.
Which is why I refuse to let her give up.
***
I’m on my fourth cup of coffee when Kiersten walks in. She doesn’t check to see if Caulder’s here, she just walks straight to the couch and plops down beside me.
“Hey,” she says flatly.
“Hey.”
“What’s going on with you and Layken?” she asks. She looks at me like she deserves an answer.
“Kiersten? Hasn’t your mother ever told you it’s rude to be nosey?”
She shakes her head. “No, she says the only way to get the facts is to ask the questions.”
“Well, you can ask as many questions as you want. That doesn’t mean I have to answer them.”
“Fine,” she says, standing up. “I’ll go ask Layken.”
“Good luck getting her to open the door.”
Kiersten leaves and I jump up and go to the window. She gets halfway down my driveway and turns around and heads back to my front door. When she passes my window, she looks at me with pity and slowly shakes her head. She opens the front door and comes back inside. “Is there anything in particular you want me to ask her? I can report back to you.”
I love this kid. “Yeah, good idea Kiersten.” I think for a second. “I don’t know, just gauge her mood. Is she crying? Is she mad? Act like you don’t know we’re fighting and ask her about me…see what she says.”
Kiersten nods and starts to shut the front door.
“Wait, one more thing. I want to know what she’s wearing, too.”
Kiersten eyes me curiously.
“Just her shirt. I want to know what shirt she has on.”
I wait by the window and watch as Kiersten walks across the street and knocks on her door. Why does she knock on Lake’s door and not mine? The door opens almost immediately. Kiersten walks inside and the door shuts behind her.
I pace the living room and drink another cup of coffee, watching out the window, waiting for Kiersten to emerge from Lake's house. A half hour goes by and the front door finally opens. Kiersten walks outside and turns left and heads to her house rather than walking back across the street.
I give her a while. Maybe she had to go home to eat lunch or something. After an hour passes, I can’t wait any longer. I make a beeline to Kiersten’s house and knock on the door.
“Hey Will, come on in,” Sherry says. She steps aside and I make my way into the living room. Kiersten’s watching T.V. Before I bombard Kiersten, I turn to Sherry.
“Last night…I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be rude.”
“Oh, stop it. I was just being nosey,” she says. “You want something to drink?”
“No, I’m good. I just need to talk to Kiersten.”
Kiersten looks over at me from the couch and gives me a dirty look. “You’re a jerk, Will.” she says.
I guess Lake’s not over it. I sit down beside her on the couch and put my hands between my knees. “Will you at least tell me what she said?” This is so pathetic. I’m entrusting my relationship to an eleven-year-old.
“Are you sure you want to know? I should probably warn you, I have an excellent memory. Mom says I’ve been able to quote entire conversations verbatim since I was three years old.”
“Positive. I want to know everything she said.”
Kiersten sighs and pulls her legs up on the couch and turns toward me. “She thinks you’re a jerk. She said you were an a*shole, a dickhead, a bas-”
“A bastard. I know, I get it. What else did she say?”
“She didn’t tell me why she was mad at you…but she’s really mad at you. I don’t know what you did, but she’s at her house right now cleaning like a psycho! When she opened the door, she had hundreds of index cards all over the living room floor. It looked like recipes or something.”
“Oh god, she’s alphabetizing,” I say. This is worse than I thought. “Kiersten, she won’t answer the door if I go over there. Will you knock so she’ll open the door? I really need to talk to her.”
Kiersten presses her lips together as she thinks about my question. “You’re asking me to trick her? To basically lie to her?”
I shrug my shoulders and nod.
“Let me get my coat.”
I stand up and Sherry comes from the kitchen and holds out her hand. I hold open my palm and she puts something in it and folds my fingers over it. “If it doesn’t go the way you’re hoping, take these with some water. You look like shit.”
She can see the hesitation in my face and she smiles. “Don’t worry, I made them. They’re completely legal.”
***
I don’t really have a plan of attack. I’m hiding against the wall in front of Lake's house when Kiersten knocks. My heart is beating so fast, I feel like I’m about to commit a robbery or something. I take a deep breath when I hear the door open. Kiersten steps aside and I brush past her and slip inside Lake’s house faster than she can realize what happened.
“Get out, Will,” she says as she holds the door open and points outside.
“I’m not leaving until you talk to me,” I say. I back further into the living room.
“Get out! Get out, get out, get out!”
I do what any sane male would do in this situation; I run down the hallway and lock myself in her bedroom. I realize I still don’t have a plan. I don’t know how I can talk to her if I’m locked up in her bedroom. But at least she can’t kick me out of her house now. I’ll stay here all day if I have to.
I hear the front door slam and within seconds she’s standing outside the bedroom door. I wait for her to say something or to yell at me, but she doesn’t. I watch the shadow of her feet disappear as she walks away.
What now? If I open the door, she’ll just try to kick me out again. Why didn’t I formulate a better plan? I’m an idiot. I’m a freaking idiot! Think, Will. Think.
I see the shadow of her feet reappear and she pauses in front of her bedroom door again.
“Will? Open the door. I’ll talk to you.”
She doesn’t sound angry. My idiotic plan actually worked? I unlock the door to her bedroom and as soon as I open it all the way, I’m completely drenched in water. She just threw water on me! She threw an entire pitcher of water in my face!
“Oh,” she says. “You look a little wet, Will. You better go home and change before you get sick.” She calmly turns and walks away.
I’m an idiot, and she’s not ready to give in. I make the walk of shame down her hallway, out the front door and across the street to my house. It’s freezing. She didn’t even bother warming the water before she threw it at me. I take off my clothes and get in the shower. A hot shower this time.
***
The shower didn’t help at all. I feel like complete crap. Five cups of coffee and no sleep on an empty stomach doesn’t make for a great start to the day. It’s almost two o’clock in the afternoon. If I wasn’t such an idiot, I wonder what Lake and I would be doing right now? Who am I kidding? I know what we’d be doing right now. My reflection on our turn of events over the past twenty-four hours causes my head to hurt. I pick my pants up off the bedroom floor and reach inside the pocket, pulling out whatever it is that Sherry gave me. I walk to the kitchen and down the medicine with an entire glass of water before going to the couch.
***
It’s dark when I wake up. I don’t even remember lying down. I sit up on the couch and spot a note on the coffee table. I reach over and snatch it up and begin to read it. My heart sinks when I realize it’s not from Lake.
Will,
I was going to warn you not to drive after you take the medicine…but I see you already took it. So, never mind.
~Sherry
P.S. I had a talk with Layken today. You really should apologize, you know. That was kind of a dick move on your part. If you need any more medicine, you know where I live. ?
I toss the letter back onto the table. Was the smiley face really necessary? I wince as the cramps in my stomach intensify. When was the last time I ate something? I honestly can’t remember. I open the refrigerator and see the basagna from the night before. Unfortunately, it’s now the perfect night for basagna. I cut a section out and throw it on a plate and toss it in the microwave. As I’m filling a glass with soda, the front door swings open.
She’s walking across the room, heading for the bookshelf. I dart into the living room just when she reaches it. She’s still ignoring me. Rather than reaching in for a single star this time, she grabs the entire vase off the bookshelf.
She is not taking this vase with her. If she takes the vase with her, she won’t have a reason to come back. I grab the vase out of her hands, but she won’t let go. We tug back and forth, but I’m not letting go. I’m not letting her take it. She finally releases her grasp and crosses her arms across her chest as she glares at me.
“Give it to me, Will. My mother made it and I want to take it home with me.”
I walk back to the kitchen with the vase…she follows me. I set it in the corner of the countertop against the wall and I turn around and place my arms on either side of it so she can’t reach it.
“Your mother made it for both of us. I know you, Lake. If you take this home you’ll open every single one of them tonight. You’ll be opening stars all night just like you carve pumpkins.”
She throws her hands up in the air and groans. “Stop saying that! Please! I don’t carve pumpkins anymore!”
I can’t believe she thinks she doesn’t carve pumpkins anymore. “You don’t? Really? You’re carving them right now, Lake. It’s been twenty-four hours and you still won’t let me talk to you about it.”
She wads her hands into fists and stomps her feet in frustration. “Ugh!” she yells. She looks like she wants to hit something. Or someone. God, she’s so beautiful.
“Stop looking at me like that!” she snaps.
“Like what?”
“You’ve got that look in your eyes again. Just stop!”
I have absolutely no idea what look she’s talking about, but I divert my attention away from her. I don’t want to do anything to piss her off even more.
“Have you eaten anything today?” I ask. I take my plate out of the microwave but she doesn’t answer me. She just stands in the kitchen with her arms folded across her chest. I pull the pan of basagna out of the refrigerator and fold back the tinfoil.
“You’re eating basagna? How appropriate,” she says.
It’s not the conversation I was hoping we would have, but it’s conversation nonetheless. I cut another square of basagna and put it in the microwave. Neither of us says anything while it cooks. She just stands there, staring at the floor. I just stand here, staring at the microwave. When it’s finished cooking, I put our plates on the bar and make another drink. We both sit down and eat in silence. Very uncomfortable silence.
When we’re finished, I clear off the bar and sit across from her so I can see her better. I wait for her to speak first. She has her elbows resting on the bar while she stares down at her nails, picking at them, attempting to look uninterested.
“So, talk,” she says evenly, without looking up at me.
I reach my hands across the bar to touch hers, but she pulls them away and leans back in her chair. I don’t like the barrier of the bar between us so I get up and walk to the living room.
“Come sit,” I say to her. She walks to the living room and sits on the same couch as me, but at the opposite end. I rub my face with my hands, trying to sort out just how I’m going to make her forgive me. I pull my leg up on the couch and turn to face her.
“Lake, I love you. The last thing in the world I want to do is hurt you. You know that.”
“Well, congratulations," she says. "You just succeeded with accomplishing the last thing in the world you wanted to do.”
I lean my head back into the couch. This is going to be harder than I thought. She’s tough to crack.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you she was in my class. I didn’t want you to worry.”
“Worry about what, Will? Is her being in class with you something I should worry about? Because if it’s nothing like you say it is, why would I need to worry?”
Jesus! Am I picking the worst ways in the world to apologize or is she just that good? If she ever stops being mad at me, I’ll tell her I think she’s finally figured out her major; pre-law.
“Lake, I don’t feel that way about Vaughn anymore. I was planning to tell you about her being in my class next week…I just didn’t want to bring it up before our getaway.”
“Oh. So you wanted to make sure you got laid before you pissed me off. Good plan,” she says sarcastically.
I slap my forehead with my hand and close my eyes. There isn’t a fight this girl couldn’t win.
“Think about it, Will. Put yourself in my shoes. Let’s say I had sex with a guy before I met you. Then right when you and I were about to have sex, you walk into my bedroom and I’m hugging this guy. Then you see me kiss him…on the neck; your favorite place to be kissed by me. Then you find out I’ve been seeing this guy every other day for weeks and I’ve kept it a secret. What would you do? Huh?”
She's not picking at her nails anymore. She's glaring right at me, waiting on my response.
"Well," I say. “I would allow you the chance to explain without interrupting you every five seconds.”
She flips me off and jerks herself off the couch and starts toward the front door. I grab her arm when she passes me and I pull her back down onto the couch. When she falls into the spot next to me, I wrap my arms around her and press her head into my chest. I try not to let her go. I don’t want her to go. “Lake, please. Just give me a chance, I’ll tell you everything. Don’t leave again.”
She doesn’t struggle to pull away. She doesn’t fight me, either. She relaxes into my chest and lets me hold her while I talk.
“I didn’t know if you even knew about Vaughn. I know how much you hate talking about past relationships, so I thought it would be worse if I brought it up than if I didn’t. That’s why I didn’t bring it up. Seeing her again meant nothing to me. I didn’t want it to mean anything to you, either.”
I run my fingers through her hair and she sighs, then starts crying into my shirt.
“I want to believe you, Will. I want to believe you so bad. But why was she here last night? If she doesn’t still mean something to you, why were you holding her?”
I kiss her on top of the head. “Lake, I was asking her to leave. She was crying so I hugged her.”
She pulls her face away from my chest and looks up at me, frightened. “She was crying? Why was she crying? Will, does she still love you?”
I sigh. How do I answer that without coming off like a jerk again? Nothing I’m saying right now is helping my cause. Nothing at all.
She sits up and scoots away from me so she can turn towards me as she speaks. “Will, you’re the one that wanted to talk. I want you to tell me everything. I want to know why she was here, what you were doing in your bedroom with her, why you were hugging her, why she was crying…everything.”
I reach over and take her hand but she pulls it back again. “Tell me,” she says.
I try to think of where to begin. I inhale a deep breath and exhale slowly, preparing to be interrupted a million more times.
“She wrote me a note in class the other day and asked if we could talk. I told her no, that there was nothing to say. She just showed up last night out of the blue. I didn’t let her in, Lake. I was in my bedroom when she got here. I would have never let her in.” I look her in the eyes when I say that, because it’s the truth.
“My grandmother wanted her to eat with us and I told her no and said I needed to talk to her. I just wanted her to leave. She started crying and told me she hated how she ended things with me. She said she knew about you and our whole situation with our parents and us raising our brothers. She said I ‘owed it to you’ to find out where my heart really lies, and that maybe I was with you because I felt sorry for you, since I've been in your shoes before. She wanted me to give her another chance, to see if I was with you for the right reasons. I told her no. I told her I loved you, Lake. I asked her to leave and she started crying again so I hugged her. I felt like I was being a jerk, that’s the only reason why I hugged her.”
I watch for some sort of reaction to my confession, but she just looks down at her lap so that I'm unable to see her face. “Why did you kiss her on the forehead?” she asks softly.
I sigh and stroke her cheek with the back of my hand, pulling her focus back in my direction. “Lake, I don’t know. You’ve got to understand that I dated her for over two years. There are some things that, no matter how long it’s been, it’s just habit. It didn’t mean anything, it was just habit. I was just consoling her.”
Lake lies back onto the arm of the couch and stares up at the ceiling while she thinks. All I can do is just let her think. I’ve told her everything. I watch her as she lies there, not saying a word. I want so bad to lie down beside her and hold her. It’s killing me that I can’t.
“Do you think there’s a chance that she’s right?” she asks, still staring at the ceiling.
“Right about what? That she loves me? Maybe, I don’t know. I don’t care. It doesn’t change anything.”
“I don’t mean about that. It’s obvious she still wants to be with you, she said it herself. I mean do you think there’s a chance she could be right about the other thing? About the possibility of you being with me because of our situation? Because you feel sorry for me.”
I spring forward on the couch and climb on top of her and grasp her jaw, pulling her face to mine. “Don’t, Lake. Don’t you dare think that for a second!”
She squeezes her eyes shut and tears slide down over her temples, into her hair. I kiss them. I kiss her face and her tears and her eyes and her cheeks and her lips. I need her to know that it’s not true. I need her to know how much I love her.
“Will, stop,” she says weakly. I can hear her cry being suppressed in her throat; I can see it in her face. She doubts me.
“Baby, no. Don’t believe that. Please don’t believe that.” I press my head into the crevice between her shoulder and her neck. “I love you because of you.”
I’ve never needed anyone to believe anything more in my entire life. I need her to believe me. When she starts to resist and push against me, I slip my arm underneath her neck and pull her closer. “Lake, stop this. Please don’t go,” I beg. I realize as I’m speaking that my voice is shaking. I’ve never been so scared I was about to lose something in my entire life, that I completely lose control. I start to cry.
“Will, don’t you see it?” she says. “How do you know? How do you really know? You couldn’t leave me now if you wanted to. Your heart is too good for that, you would never do that to me. So how do I know if you would really be here if our circumstances were different? If our parents were alive and we didn’t have Kel and Caulder, how do you know you would even love me?”
I clasp my hand over her mouth. “No! Stop saying that, Lake. Please.” She closes her eyes and her tears start flowing even faster. I kiss them again. I kiss her cheek and I kiss her forehead and I kiss her lips. I grasp the back of her head and I kiss her with more desperation than I’ve ever kissed her before. She puts her hands on my neck and kisses me back.
She’s kissing me back.
We’re both still crying, frantically trying to hold on to the last bit of sanity between us. She pushes against me. She’s still kissing me, but she wants me to sit up, so I do. I lean back into the couch and she slides onto my lap and strokes my face with her hands. We stop kissing for a brief moment and look at each other. I wipe tears away from her face and she does the same for me. I can still see the heartache in her eyes but she squeezes them shut and brings her lips back to mine. I pull her into me so close that it makes it hard to breathe. We’re both gasping for air as we try to find a constant rhythm amidst our frantic struggle. I have never needed her with more intensity than I need her right now. She pulls at my shirt so I lean forward, allowing her to slip it off over my head. When her lips separate from mine, she crosses her arms and grasps the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head. I help her. When her shirt is on top of mine in the floor, I wrap my arms around her, placing my hands on the bare skin of her back, and I pull her into me.
“I love you, Lake. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I love you so much.”
She pulls back and looks me in the eyes. "I want you to make love to me, Will."
I wrap my arms tightly around her back and stand up as she clings to my neck. She wraps her legs around my waist and I carry her to my bedroom and we collapse onto the bed. Her hands find the button of my jeans and she unbuttons them as my mouth slowly moves from her lips to her chin and down her neck. I can't believe this is actually happening. I don't allow myself time to second guess my own actions. I slide my fingers under the straps of her bra and pull them down off of her shoulders. She slides her arms out of the straps and I move my lips along the edge of her bra when she begins to struggle with the button on her own jeans. I lift up to assist her, then I guide her hands as we slide them off and toss them behind me onto the floor. She scoots further up onto the bed until her head meets the pillows. I pull the covers out from beneath her and slide on top of her, then pull the covers back on top of us. When our eyes meet, I see the heartache behind her expression and the tears still streaming down her face. She grasps at the waist of my jeans and begins to slide them down when I pull her hands away. She’s hurting so much. She’s still heartbroken. I can't let her do this. She still doesn't trust me.
“Lake, I can’t.” I roll off of her and try to catch my breath. “Not like this. You’re upset. It shouldn’t be like this.”
She doesn’t say anything…she just continues to cry. We both lie next to one another for several minutes without saying a single word. I reach over to put my hand on top of hers but she pulls it away and slides off the bed. She picks her jeans up off the floor and walks back into the living room. I follow her and watch while she puts her shirt and pants back on. She sucks in a couple of breaths in an attempt to hold back her tears.
“Are you leaving?” I ask hesitantly. "I don’t want you to go. Stay with me.”
She doesn’t respond. She goes to the door and slips her shoes on, then her jacket. I walk over to her and wrap my arms around her. “You can’t be mad at me for this. You aren’t thinking clearly, Lake. If we do this while you're angry, you’ll regret it tomorrow. Then you’ll be mad at yourself, too. You understand that, don’t you?”
She wipes tears from her eyes and steps away from me. “You’ve had sex with her, Will. How do I get past that? How do I get past the fact that you’ve made love to Vaughn, but you won’t make love to me? You don’t know how it feels to be rejected. It feels like shit. You just made me feel like shit.”
“Lake, that’s absurd! I’m not rejecting you. I love you too much for it not to be perfect for you. I’m not about to have sex with you for the first time while you’re crying. If we do this now, we’ll both feel like shit.”
She rubs her hands across her eyes again and looks down at the floor, attempting not to cry. We stand quietly in the living room, neither of us sure what happens next. I’ve said all I can say. I just need her to believe me, so I give her time to think.
“Will?” She slowly brings her eyes back up to meet mine. It looks almost like it hurts her to even look at me. “I’m not sure I can do this," she says.
The look in her eyes makes my heart feel like it's come to a literal stop. I've seen this look in a girl before. She's about to break up with me.
"I mean…I’m not sure I can do us," she says. "I’m trying so hard, but I don’t know how to get past this. How do I know this life is what you want? How do you know this is what you want? You need time, Will. We need time to think about it. We have to question everything.”
I don’t respond. I can’t. Everything I say comes out wrong.
She’s not crying anymore. “I’m going home now. I need you to let me go. Just let me go, okay?”
It’s the clear headedness behind her voice and the calm, reasonable expression in her eyes that rips the heart right out of my chest. She turns to leave, and all I can do is let her go. I just let her go.
***
After an hour of punching everything I can find to punch, cleaning everything I can find to clean and screaming every cussword I can think to scream, I knock on Sherry’s door. When she opens it, she looks at me and doesn’t say a word. She turns back inside and comes back a moment later and holds out her fist. I open my palm and she drops the pills in my hand and looks at me with pity. I hate pity.
When I’m back inside my house, I swallow the pills and lay on the couch, wishing it all away.
***
“Will.”
I try to open my eyes, to make sense of the voice I’m hearing. I try to move, but my entire body feels like concrete.
“Dude, wake up.”
I'm discombobulated. I sit up on the couch and rub my eyes, attempting to open them…scared of the sunlight. When I finally do open them, it’s not bright at all, it’s still dark. I look around the room and see Gavin sitting on the couch across from me.
“What time is it? What day is it?” I ask him.
“It’s still today. Saturday. It’s after ten I think. How long have you been out?”
I think about that question. It was after seven when Lake and I had basagna. After eight when I let her go. When I just let her go. I lie back on the couch and don’t answer Gavin as the scene from just two hours ago replays in my head.
“You want to talk about it?” Gavin asks.
I shake my head again. I really don’t want to talk about it.
“Eddie’s over at Layken’s house. She seemed pretty upset. It was a little awkward so I thought I’d come hide out here. You want me to leave?”
I shake my head again. “There’s basagna in the fridge if you’re hungry.”
“I am, actually,” he says. He gets off the couch and walks to the kitchen. “You need something to drink?”
I do. I do need a drink. I walk to the kitchen and press my hand against my forehead. My head is pounding. I reach above the refrigerator and move the boxes of cereal out of the way to get to the cabinet behind it. I pull out the bottle of tequila and grab a shot glass and pour myself a drink.
“I was thinking more along the lines of a soda,” Gavin says as he sits down at the bar and watches me down a shot.
“Good idea.” I open the refrigerator and pull out a soda. I grab an even bigger glass and mix the soda with the tequila. Not the best mix, but it helps it go down smoother.
“Will? I’ve never seen you like this. You sure you’re okay?”
I tilt my head back and finish the entire drink, then put the glass in the sink. I choose not to answer him. If I say yes, he’ll know I’m lying. If I say no, he’ll ask me why. So I just sit down next to him while he eats, and I don’t say a thing.
“Eddie and I wanted to talk to you and Layken together. I guess right now that’s not going to happen, so…” Gavin’s voice trails off and he takes another bite of basagna.
“Talk to us about what?”
He wipes his mouth with a napkin and sighs. He brings his right arm down to the table, gripping his fork with his hand so tight that his knuckles turn white. “Eddie’s pregnant.”
I don’t trust my own ears at this point. My head is still pounding and the alcohol mixed with the homemade concoction Sherry gave me is causing me to see two of Gavin.
“Pregnant? How pregnant?” I ask.
“Pretty damn pregnant,” he says.
“Shit.” I stand up and grab the tequila off the counter and re-fill the shot glass. I normally don’t promote underage drinking, but there are occasionally times when even I push my boundaries. I place the shot in front of him and he downs it.
“What’s the plan?” I ask.
He walks to the living room and sits back down on the third couch. When did I get a third couch? I swipe the bottle of tequila off the counter and rub my eyes as I make my way into the living room. When I open them, there are only two couches again. I hurry up and sit down before I fall.
“We don’t have a plan. The same plan, anyway. Eddie wants to keep it. It scares the shit out of me, Will. We're only nineteen. We’re not prepared for this at all. ”
Unfortunately, I know exactly how he feels.
“Do you want to keep it?” I ask.
Sunday, January 21st…I think. It might still be Saturday night. Whatever. WTF ever.
Lake...Lake, Lake, Lake, Lake. I’d take a mountain and then I need another drink. But I love you so much. Yeah I think I need more tequila…and more cowbell. I love you I’m so sorry. I’m not thirsty. But I’m not hungry, just thirsty. But I’m never drinking another cheeseburger again I love you so much.