Early Sunsets Over Newark

Minutes passed. Hours, it felt like. Eventually, I rolled over in the darkness and dressed swiftly, slipping on my shoes and grabbed my cigarettes on my way out the door, heading next door. I knocked softly, but I was persistent until Zack himself opened the door.

"I couldn't sleep." I lied.

He escorted me downstairs, into the midnight wind and down the block into the a twenty-four pub where we could get a night cap. I ordered a scotch, dry; and Zacky drank a regular beer. It was silent for the first three minutes, until he faced me completely, taking off his hat and clearing his throat.

"So, you really couldn't sleep, or was that just bull?"

I shrugged, pulling a cigarette out of the rigid box, my fingertips feeling at the paper and it's softness. Mother knows best... I always wrote on my cigarettes, thanks to both an addiction to black sharpies and cliches.

Zacky scanned over the lettering and then looked up at me as the bartender set our drinks down and heading down his left six feet.

"So then, what?"

I swallowed hard, placing the cigarette delicately between my lips and lighting it, inhaling as deep as possible.

"Samantha, she thinks she likes you..."

He scoffed at that, covering his mouth so that his beer wouldn't leak from his lips before he took another long swig.

"Cute." He mumbled. I turned, staring him down harshly and narrowed my eyes before he set his beer bottle down.

"I meant that it's nice. I appreciate the fact girls like me once they actually know me. It's just that, i don't feel the same way. Don't get me wrong, she's cute, and stuff. She's just not my type. I like rougher girls. Rebels. She's too good."

I nearly coughed, slamming down my cup.

"Do you even know Sam?"

He paused, and for a brief moment, he actually considered every obstacle in his way.

"Do I even know you/" He asked suddenly.

**********

I shuffled down the hallway and slid my hotel key-card (not so gracefully) through the beat-up robotic reader. It blinked back red and so I spit on the other side, rubbing it against my jeans and tried it again. The little light turned green and I turned the handle, not opening the door yet.

"Thank god." I mumbled, opening the door slowly. The room was pitch black. I quietly watched my step, setting my cigarettes back down beside the door and taking my shoes off. I started to pull my shirt up and off my body when the light suddenly turned on.

I put my shirt down to see Sam sitting in the cleaner of the stained chairs on the other side of the room, hugging her knees and pulling out one of her own Newport cigarettes. She looked really awake, and I looked really busted.

"Where have you been?"

I swallowed hard. After ten cups of scotch, it was hard to think. "I went out." I spoke slowly, trying not to slur my words.

"But it's late, and you smell like liquor." She hissed, her eyes narrowing while she puffed away, making little ringlets of smoke. She was started to look like a dragon. A blurry dragon, but a dragon none-the-less.

"Yeah, I got a nightcap."

"Where?" Damn, she was talking too fast.

"A nightcap..."

"I said where..."

I coughed a little. 'Oh... a pub, down the block. Nice place. They have wonderful peanuts..."

She nodded slowly, like she knew I was lying. I turned around and started to undressed until I heard her stand up.

"Why didn't you wake me up? or leave a note?"

I sighed, turning around to face her, to see where she was. I didn't like being sneaked up on like that.

"Sorry, dear wife." I mumbled, sarcastically.

I could hear her scoff, and then hear her walk back across the room, away from me. I was hoping that would keep her off my back for a little while.