Words I Might Have Ate

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“Billie man,” Mike appears at my elbow and I reluctantly pass off the bong before I exhale and look up at my best friend through bloodshot eyes. “It’s going on two in the morning.”

“Are you ready to go then?” I cough into my fist as I rise with some assistance from the sofa I was leaning on. “Where is everyone else?”

What had started out as the six of us prowling around Berkeley in search of something to do had ended with us crashing a kid’s party in the suburbs and abusing the kitchen full of liquor. Tré had claimed that he knew the kid, but I knew it was more likely that he knew someone who knew someone who knew the kid who was throwing the massive party.

It was a lame party and that bothered me. It wasn’t until nearly midnight when some kids I recognize from Gilman’s showed up and things really began to move along. Someone pulled out an intricate glass bong and a fresh bag and I knew where I was going to spend my night.

Rilla had stuck with me throughout the first half of the night, but she left when Tré needed a partner for a drinking game that was taking place in the kitchen. Her disappearance put a damper on my already foul mood. There were several times when I could have sworn that I heard her high-pitched, clear laugh floating out from the next room but I couldn’t be sure. All I could think about was who was amusing her so much and when was she going to be joining me once again.

I knew I wasn’t much company tonight. I had started off in a good enough mood, but the more I brooded over Abigail and what went down between us, the darker my attitude became. The likelihood of us ever running into each other on the streets of Berkeley was slim to none; we really only ever saw each other at Gilman’s and now that I was banned, how was I ever going to see her again?

And so I had spent my night smoking and drinking by my lonesome. It wasn’t until Mike appeared in the doorway and caught my eye that I remembered I had come with five other people.

“Tré is outside with the girls,” Mike replies easily, steadying me out as I waver on my feet. “They’ve had quite a bit to drink, so I said they could all stay at the apartment with us.”

“Where?” I ask blearily as he begins to steer me towards the front door. “We only have two beds and a couch.”

Mike shrugs, his hand warm and reassuring on my shoulder. “We’ll work something out. I’m okay to drive, so I’m going to drive Ali’s car. Do you want to ride with me or Tré?”

“You,” I answer immediately as we step outside into the cool night air. “Tré scares me when he’s behind the wheel.”

Mike laughs just as a familiar group of four materializes a few yards away. Tré is holding up a swaying Louisa and Rilla has her arm wrapped around Ali’s waist tightly. Both of the twins look a little worse for wear and I squint down at the smaller girl in confusion.

“How much has she had to drink?” I question, an amused smirk bubbling to my lips.

Rilla laughs, a strand of her dark red hair falling out of her ponytail and tumbling into her eyes. “Too much, she’ll be feeling it in the morning.”

“Tré, you have Ali and Louisa,” Mike takes charge of the situation and I wonder briefly if he’d planned on being the designated driver all along or if he sobered up long enough to realize that none of us had thought that through properly. “I’m driving Ali’s car, so I’ll meet you back at the apartment, okay? Billie and Rilla can come with me.”

Tré nods and he slowly begins to walk Louisa towards the Pinto. She stumbles on the driveway and begins to laugh loudly, her blonde hair sticking to her flushed skin. “Did you see that?” She giggles, clinging tightly to the drummer. “I nearly fell.”

I’m distracted from Tré’s response by the sight of Rilla awkwardly maneuvering Ali after her sister. Immediately I step forward and drape her arm around my neck. “Here,” I murmur softly. “Let me help you with that.”

Rilla sighs and our pace picks up now that her weight is more evenly distributed. “Thank you,” She breathes as Mike opens the back door and we carefully guide Ali into the backseat.

Tré is busy strapping Louisa’s seatbelt on in the front seat and by the time both girls are safe in their seats, Mike has already pulled up in a worn little silver car. Rilla waves goodbye to her friends before she makes her way over to the running car and easily swings herself down into the backseat.

I hesitate for the briefest of seconds before I join her in the backseat, opting against sitting next to my best friend. As I slam the door behind me, Mike pulls away from the curb and we begin the short drive home. The silence is overwhelming and I take this opportunity to rest my eyes. All of the alcohol and drugs floating around in my blood made it very difficult to keep myself awake.

I’m painfully aware of Rilla sitting beside me. How could I not be? The sweet scent that always seemed to linger about her invades my nose and makes it difficult to concentrate on much else.

By the time Mike kills the engine, I’m on the verge of unconsciousness. The seat is so comfortable and I’m sorely tempted to just fall asleep in the backseat. But then a soft touch on my arm reminds me that I’m not alone.

“Billie,” She whispers softly, leaning in close to me. She hesitates and then I feel her light touch brush my hair back from my sweaty forehead. “We’re at your house. It’s time to go inside.”

“I don’t want to,” I admit, cracking open one eye and meeting her gaze evenly. I even worked up the effort to arch an eyebrow up at her in an attempt to get her to smile at me.

It works and her entire face lights up before she pushes away from me and opens her car door. “Don’t you want to be the one to show me around your house?”

I follow her lead and climb out of the car before I stretch towards the moon, my shirt rising up attractively. “It’s just an apartment,” I mumble, scratching my rough cheek absentmindedly. “But I suppose I’ll do the honors.”

Mike is lighting up a cigarette and I notice that he’s parked in the visitor’s lot rather then by the garage where we would normally park. He takes one look at how close Rilla is standing next to me before he shakes his head and turns back to the street. “I’ll wait for Tré and the girls; he’s going to need help bringing them in. Take Rilla on up, we’ll be up in a few minutes.”

I nod and then glance at the girl next to me. “Well then, let’s go.”

She smiles at me and it’s a secret, shy sort of smile—one that makes my heart skip a few beats in my chest before I turn on my heel and begin to walk towards the poorly lit apartment entrance. Normally I don’t have a problem talking to girls, but for some reason, I was quite content to be in silence with Rilla. And it seemed like she didn’t have a problem either.

In fact, she was too busy looking all around her in wonder as we climbed the stairs to home. She only looks at me once I jingle the keys as I start to unlock the door.

I offer her a small grin before I push open the door and motion for her to follow me. “Home sweet home. Sorry about the mess,” I begin, rubbing at my neck awkwardly. “We weren’t expecting company.” I don’t bother to add that even if we had known we were having girls over, we most likely wouldn’t have cleaned up much regardless.

Rilla steps into the living room and cranes her head all about as she takes in the room with those big green eyes that constantly seem to amaze me. Finally she nods and a crooked smile lights up her face. “So all three of you live here?”

I shake my head as I toss the keys onto the coffee table. “Just Mike and me, but Tré spends so much time here that his name might as well be on the lease too. Do you want a tour?”

“Absolutely,” She nods, following my example and kicking off her shoes. She lines them up neatly by the door before she looks at me expectantly, her hands clasped innocently in front of her.

I resist the urge to make a smartass comment about cherubs and college freshman before I clear my throat importantly and wave my hand lazily at the room. “This is the living room obviously and this is the kitchen,” I walk into the next room and immediately my eyes land on the pile of dishes that were dumped unceremoniously into the sink.

Maybe we should start cleaning a little more often.

But Rilla doesn’t say a word about the dishes, instead she nods, looking genuinely interested by my halfassed tour.

“Okay so,” I cast a critical eye around the room, searching for the next thing to introduce. “This is Mike’s bedroom,” I open the first door on the right and I am taken aback at how clean his room looks. Since when has my best friend ever picked up his clothes? “It’s almost like he knew we were having guests over tonight,” I muse thoughtfully and Rilla laughs from beside me.

“I don’t think any of us exactly planned this,” She shrugs her shoulders lightly. “Maybe he’s just a neat person?”

I consider this for a moment before my face dissolves into laughter. “Yeah right, not Mike. Anyway, this is the bathroom,” I throw open the middle door and roll my hand with a flourish before I open the last door on the left. “And saving the best for last, this is my room.” The door squeaks a bit on its hinges as I push it open and step into the room.

I’m immediately aware of how much of a pigsty my room seems to be and I briefly wonder how it must look to the girl standing next to me. Just as I’m about to apologize or make a joke about the mountains of clothes and miscellaneous odds and ends, Rilla inhales sharply.

I turn quickly, concerned by the sudden gasp when I realize that she’s moving quickly towards Zero, who is sleeping contentedly on my pillow. Rilla sits down on my bed and pauses before she leans forward and runs her hand down Zero’s spine gently.

The cat purrs contentedly, moving under her touch lazily. I smirk as I lean up against the doorframe and just watch her. “Zero,” I say into the still room suddenly, taking a few steps forward. “Her name is Zero.”

Rilla looks up at the sound of my voice and she nods, looking pleased. “It fits you.”

“Me?” I question bewilderedly. “Don’t you mean her? It fits her.”

She shakes her head, a wide grin lighting up her face brilliantly. “No, it fits you. Zero seems like the sort of name you’d give your cat. I like it,” She finishes up shyly, clasping her hands in her lap. “It shows off her character.”

“Thank you, I think,” I laugh, shoving my hands deep into my pockets. I look all around my room, as if a conversation topic would present itself. But she speaks first and breaks the tension.

“Have you gotten any further with Holden?” Her head tips to one side as she speaks and I watch as she pushes some of her hair back behind her one ear and it drips back out almost immediately.

I shrug noncommittally and glance at my desk where the worn novel is lying innocently. “I’ve kindof given up on him, I guess. I don’t have a lot of free time—well, at least I didn’t but now I guess I have my weekends back again.” There is some bitterness in my tone of voice and she catches on easily.

“You didn’t deserve what happened tonight,” She whispers lightly. “And it’s such a shame that it had to happen to you. They shouldn’t have turned their backs on you so easily.”

I sink down onto my mattress and cup my tired face in my hands. “It’s stupid that I’m this angry over it.”

“It’s understandable,” She answers and then I feel her light touch on my back, rubbing at my spine comfortingly. “That was your home and they threw you out like that. Maybe,” She hesitates before she carries on. “Maybe you should show them that you don’t need them—like the more successful you are, the bigger ‘fuck you’ it would be to them.” My head comes up out of my palms and I gape openly at her. She flushes uncomfortably at my gaze, rubbing her shoulder awkwardly. “What?” She questions, her cheeks pink.

I shake my head, not even bothering to conceal my amazed smile. “I’ve never heard you swear before.”

“Yes well,” She rises up from the bed. “There’s a lot that you don’t know about me.”

“I’d like to know,” I find myself saying as she moves towards the door. “You should tell me.”

She comes to a stop in the doorway before she peeks back over her shoulder, her eyes dancing wickedly. “Someday.” And then she steps out into the kitchen where I can hear Mike and Tré bringing in the twins.

I wait for a few seconds before I too struggle to my feet and follow the sound of their voices to the living room. It takes us nearly half-hour to settle Louisa and Ali in Mike’s room; he had the bigger bed, so it made sense for the sisters to share. I graciously give Rilla the use of my bed, which means that Mike, Tré and I were left to find a sleeping spot in the living room.

Mike stretches out in the armchair, using the ottoman to prop up his feet, while Tré makes a bit of a nest out of blankets on the floor by the coffee table. I make myself comfortable on the sofa and for the longest time, I stay awake and listen to the building breathe all around me. I am very aware of the fact that the mysterious green-eyed girl slept only yards away from me, wrapped up in my blankets and curled up on my mattress.

The last thing I remember is the clock chiming four thirty in the morning before my eyelids drift shut and sleep finally claims me for the night. I sleep the sleep of the dead and I don’t stir until nearly noon when Mike wakes me as he moves around in the kitchen, most likely getting together the things to make himself a pot of coffee.

I manage to bring myself off of the sofa and after a short detour to the bathroom, I walk into my bedroom where there should be a girl waiting for me. But my bed is neatly made and Zero is sleeping on the sunny windowsill contentedly.

A huge part of me is disappointed as I walk further into my room. I wanted her to still be here when I woke up, because we were supposed to talk. She was going to tell me about herself—I genuinely wanted to know more about her.

Instead all I found was an empty, cold bed and a single sheet of looseleaf paper lying on the duvet. I sit down on the bed, wrinkling the blankets horridly as I grab for the paper, realizing that her sweet scent lingers in my room already.

’Billy,
Thank you for lending me both your bed and your apartment for the night. I appreciate your kindness more than words can express. I meant what I said last night (I don’t know how much you remember). I’d like to see you again—I still have to see your band play, right? Also, you should give Holden another chance. I don’t think he’ll disappoint you.
-R’