Hard to Hold On

chapter Twenty



Nolan



“I better be seeing shit,” Mills grumbles from my bedroom door. Groaning, I flip on my stomach, allowing my back to face him as he flips the light switch on. “Nolan get your ass up now. Why are you not with Natalie?”

“Because she doesn’t want me,” I slur.

“Are you drunk?”

“Possibly,” I chuckle as he turns me onto my back again. He looks down at me and I watch as he spins above me. “Where’s Lorie?”

“In the living room so don’t bring your drunk ass out there.”

“Well I have to go out there if I wanna meet up with Natalie again, right? But this time I’m going to get her to listen to me. I’m not letting her run.”

“Yeah,” Mills scoffs. “You better do something. You know I’ll f*ck you up if we came back this fast for nothing.”

He turns around, making his way towards the door but before he can stop, he looks over his shoulder at me. “I . . . uh . . . I have something from Dad that you might wanna read. It’s a letter that he left with Mom. She told me to give it to you if she didn’t make the surgery.”

In an instant I straighten up and stare at him. My eyelids are heavy but I force them to stay open. “Well where is it?”

“I’m not giving it to you until you’re sober. Goodnight, fag.” He chuckles, stepping out, turning the light off, and shutting the door behind him.

Shaking my head, I stand from the bed and stumble onto my feet. A few boxes are kicked aside but I find my phone through the darkness and call Natalie. Of course it goes straight to voicemail. “Damn it,” I hiss. I swore I wasn’t going to talk to her again but I miss her. I want nothing more than to hear her voice, to be next to her.

Without thinking, I pull some jeans on, grab whatever T-shirt I can find through the darkness, and then clutch my house keys. I pull my door open and peep out towards the living room. Mills must be in his bedroom which is good. I don’t want him to see me going out in the stupor I’m in. But I’ve told myself this a million times. I’m not giving up on Natalie. I’m not giving up on the love I have for her. It’s real and I know it. I just need to fight to win it again.

Shutting the apartment door behind me, I rush down the stairs and hit the sidewalk. It feels good tonight. The breeze is just right and feels pleasant as it brushes against my flushed cheeks. My skin is hotter than hell and I feel like a million degrees but I won’t stop. I think I may have drunk a little too much and my body wants nothing but rest but I’m not stopping until I get to Natalie.

****

It takes me fifteen minutes by foot to get to Natalie’s condo. I spot her car parked in the parking lot and rush for the entrance. I push the button on the elevator and it opens immediately. Soft elevator music floods through my ears and pounds against my skull. I want to tap out but I’m too close to my cure. I’m too close to what I want most.

The doors slide open and I stagger towards her door. My fists pound louder than I expect and quick footsteps scuffle around on the other side of the door. “Who the hell is that?” I hear Harper ask from a distance. That’s not the voice I want to hear.

The door swings open and in front of me is my best friend Dawson. “Dude, what the f*ck are you doing out so late?” He lets me in but my legs give out and I fall against him. He catches me before I fall but he stumbles from holding my weight. “Holy shit, Nolan. What the hell is wrong with you?” He drags me with him and not long after my back lands on something deeply cushioned.

“Oh my God, is he okay?” Harper asks, panic behind her voice.

A door creaks open and light footsteps come in my direction before a heavy gasp lets out. “Nolan?” the voice I want to hear most calls. I dare my eyes to open and I spot my Bunny looking down at me. Her eyes are drowned with worry. Her hair is down and swimming around her small face.

“Natalie,” I croak.

“Dawson, bring him to my room,” she says as she looks at him.

With a grunt, Dawson lifts me up and drapes my arm around his shoulder. “How much did you have to drink, man?”

“Uh . . .” I hesitate as he drags me to Natalie’s room. My vision doubles as he drags me towards the bed and I land on my back. “Let’s see. Mills had some Tequila. I downed that. He had one case of beer . . . downed that, too . . . maybe two shots of vodka—”

“What?!” Natalie squeals. She pushes past Dawson and places a hand against my forehead. “Oh my God, Nolan. You’re cold.” She sits on the edge of the bed, lifting me upright and I rest my head against her chest.

“Might be alcohol poisoning,” Harper says. Dawson turns to look at her with a raised eyebrow and she shrugs. “What? I know the signs.”

“Of course you do,” he sighs. “Look, I’ll go grab a bucket or something. Don’t need my man throwing up all over your bedroom. Just know it’s coming. Stick with him.”

“I will.” Natalie’s voice sounds like heaven in my ear. I love hearing it.

“Natalie, I’m so sorry,” I slur.

She shushes me as she rocks me in her arms. My eyes begin to shut but she pushes me back by my shoulders. “No, Nolan. You have to stick with me. If you fall asleep I might not get you back,” she says, her voice cracking. “This is my fault. Why would you drink so much?”

“It’s what Mills does to get rid of the pain. It seems to always work for him.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t drink this much, Nolan. You look terrible.”

“Are you not attracted to me anymore?” I tease, admiring her worry. Worry means she still cares.

“Nolan—” She breaks off as my head falls. A tightness creeps up to my throat and not long after there’s burning. My stomach boils and I rush away from her quickly to get to the bathroom. I pull the toilet seat up and the vomit splurges from deep down. It hurts like hell. I hate throwing up—especially when it feels like I’m throwing up my insides. I haven’t eaten shit all day. There’s nothing but alcohol on my stomach.

A hand touches my back and rubs up and down. “Get it out, Nolan,” Natalie coos to me. “I’m sorry.”

I hate that I can’t respond. I should be the one apologizing to her. Her hand continues to rub across my back and soon the night drifts but with each hour is more vomit. A time comes when the vomit ceases and I fall into Natalie’s arms. My heavy eyelids manage to peek open and look up at her. She’s already looking at me in the same way she used to. In the way that lets me know she has no choice but to love me.

“I love you, Bunny. I swear I do. You mean a lot to me.”

She presses her lips together, looking me over while continuing to rock me in her arms. “Did you cheat on me, Nolan?”

I stare up at her and try to shake my head but for some reason I can’t manage. Weariness takes over me and I try to fight against it but I’m losing. I’m weak, vulnerable. I’m at my weakest state and I know I’m not going to remember any of this tomorrow but I don’t care. I’m just glad to be with her. I’m glad I can actually be in her arms and have her near me. It may not last long—this moment may not last long—but I’m cherishing this night, no matter how many times I may throw my guts up.

A response never shows up for her. Instead she continues to rock me in her arms until I drift into an abysmal sleep. I’ve never been more relieved to be in her arms than now. I’m glad her face is the last face I see before drifting off. Her lips press against my clammy forehead and it gives me hope that we can still make this work. It’s not over.