Apology Accepted

I shoved another mini snickers in my mouth and discarded the wrapper in the trashcan sitting next to the couch as I flipped through yet another shitty horror movie that just so happened to be playing tonight.

I looked down at the bowl of candy rested in my lap and mumbled to myself. I had probably eaten more candy than I had given out. I looked across the kitchen at the clock and realized it was almost midnight. The trick or treaters had stopped coming in about an hour ago, so I just contented myself with sitting on the couch and eating until I couldn’t move.

I glanced in the direction of the kitchen table once more and saw a white piece of paper rested on it. No doubt my job application. Which I had yet to return, in fear of not being able to speak clearly in front of the kid who’d given it to me. I sighed loudly, set the bowl of candy on the couch cushion next to me and stood up, stretching.

I looked down at my attire. An old sweat shirt with a hole in the front pocket and a pair of jeans with the bottoms cut off. I quickly stuffed my feet into the slippers underneath the coffee table and pulled my hair up into a pony tail. I walked into the kitchen, picked up the application and stared at the letters that were scrawled on it. The letters that would be the determining factor of me ultimately ending up with a job. I rolled my eyes at the dramatic thoughts in my head and stuffed it into my pocket, grabbed my keys and headed for the front door.

Once I was in my car, I rubbed my hands together roughly and realized just how badly I wanted to smoke. For some reason, they always kept my mouth warm, which in turn, would keep my face warm and would leave alone the fact that the rest of my body was completely frozen. I started the car and pulled away from the curb, headed in the direction of the Jackson’s. I parked in the vacant parking lot and stepped out of my car, locking it quickly. A huge gust of wind almost knocked me on my feet and I heard leaves scatter across the ground, paper following it.

I held onto my keys and walked into the warm shelter of the gas station, the same boy behind the counter, only this time he was counting the money in the register.

“Oi,” He mumbled without looking up upon the noise of my entry, “’M tellin’ yeh, get the fuck outta ‘ere yeh drunk twat.”

“Excuse me?” I laughed, slightly nervous.

He looked up at me, his blue eyes uncovered by his dark hair and he grinned, “Oi, ‘m sorry ‘bout that. I thought yeh were this drunk arse. ‘E’s come in ‘ere like five fuckin’ times tonigh’ tryin’ the bum a whole pack of smokes off meh. Bloke.”

I nodded and reached into my pocket for my job application. My hand went through the hole in the sweatshirt and I closed my eyes, knowing I’d lost the fucking thing, “God damn it.” I groaned.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“I lost my fucking application,” I sighed, “Fuck my life.”

He laughed loudly, “Fuck meh life, I ain’t ‘eard that one before.”

I just nodded slightly, still pissed at the fact that I was going to get stuck filing out another one. I watched as he pulled a pack of smokes out of his pocket and a lighter. He held them out towards me and motioned towards the door. I followed suit and we walked around the other side of the building to be protected from the wind. He lit one smoke and handed me one, tossing the lighter in my direction.

I quickly lit mine and puffed on it, looking up at the sky which had turned a deep purple color now.

“So what the ‘ell are yeh doin’ turning’ in yeh application at midnight on ‘alloween?”

I shrugged, “Had nothing better to do.”

“What?” He grinned, “Yeh ain’t out gettin’ drunk er smokin’ some dope?”

I smiled softly, ashing my cigarette, “Naw. I quit doing that a few years ago.”

“A few years ago, eh? Are yeh even old enough the be drinkin’ ‘ere?”

“No,” I smiled, “But I bet you aren’t either.”

“Not ‘ere. But, back in Yorkshire, yeh can drink all yeh want as long as yer eighteen.”

I pulled in another drag on my cigarette as I gazed up at the boy, who was a striking resemblance of Oli. The only thing that happened to be different was distinguishing sound to their accents; which would go unnoticed unless you had heard Oli talk as much as I did.

“Well, I’m more of a smoker than a drinker.” I said, putting out my cigarette, “Drinking makes me really sick.”

“It makes most people sick.” He smiled.

I shifted onto another foot as I waited for him to take the last couple of drags of his cigarette. He did it quickly, realizing I was getting colder and colder waiting for him.

Finally, he dropped his butt on the ground and we walked back into the store. He went behind the counter again and I mumbled, “Can you give me another application?”

He tossed a pack of Camel Wides at me and grinned, “Why don’t yeh just come in tomorrow aroun’ noon and yeh can start workin’ off that pack of smokes?”

I grinned widely and took the cigarettes in the same hand that held my keys and said, “Thanks.”

He nodded in my direction and I turned around, heading towards the exit. Once I let the little bell jingle, I felt a small grin take over my face as I unlocked my car and got into the driver’s seat. I started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. I looked left, then right and decided to take a right instead of heading home. I wanted to drive around and check out some Halloween decorations.

I turned down a street and looked down the sidewalk, disappointed that there weren’t anymore trick or treaters strolling down the street with the pillow cases overflowing with candy. I drove past one house, flashing lights on the inside, empty beer cans littering the front yard, and I rolled my eyes, knowing that inside that house, there were probably way too many drunk teenagers having sex on a bed they’d never even seen until tonight.

I came across a familiar house, Lynn’s house to be exact. There were two cars in the driveway, neither one of them Oli’s. The front yard was decorated with small gravestones and their front door was lit up by seven carved pumpkins. A small grin darted across my face as I thought about Lynn.

I turned around another corner, suddenly wondering why that boy, who’s name I had yet to figure out was working on Halloween night. He looked like the type that would be getting drunk as drunk could be tonight, only to find some girl who was at least as drunk as he was, if not more and then sleep with her until they passed out on top of each other.

He’d wake up before her and tip toe out of the room, and she’d wake up later, wondering if she was raped or just had drunk sex.

I laughed bitterly as my memories from my first years in high school came flooding back and I pulled up beside the house in my little parking space on the side of the road. I hid my smokes underneath the seat for a time when I would actually really need them and I stepped out my car, making sure to lock it.

I walked across the grass, still wet from the sprinklers waking it up at about six this morning. I stepped through the front door quietly. Not sure why.

Even if Marsha and Marilyn were home, they would still be awake.

And if they were still awake, they could care less that I just walked in the door.

But, I’m glad I was quiet because I was able to catch small snippets of a conversation that left my mind whirling for that entire night.

“I don’t know Matt. I’m not entirely sure if we should mention it to her-” She paused, and I could hear another voice on the other end of the phone, loud, but I couldn’t make out his words, “She’s still pretty upset about the whole thing I hope you know that… I know it’s not his fault, I know that but she doesn’t know that.”

I leaned over the wall to listen harder, trying to find out who the other voice on the phone was, not to mention what the hell Marilyn was talking about, and with all my wonderful, graceful ability, I managed to step on Marsha’s stupid cat’s tail. It yowled loudly I nudged my foot at it to quiet it, which only managed to send it into a pissed off frenzy. It darted across the kitchen floor, dived onto the kitchen island and knocked over a vase full of orange and black flowers that Marsha’s sister had sent for her.

“Oh, Matt,” Marilyn sighed, “My cat’s freaking out. Can you try calling back again tomorrow? I’m really sorry.”

I bit my cheek and made a mental note to throw that stupid cat in a bag and light it on fire as I heard the phone click off. I listened as Marilyn’s footsteps faded into the pantry and I was as quick as lightning, dashing up the stairs.

Once I found myself in my room, I pulled off the old ratty sweatshirt I’d been wearing to reveal my black tank top. I then dropped my torn up jeans to the floor and looked at myself in the mirror. I placed my fingers on my hips, tracing the warm metal that adorned my skin and grinned.

I jumped in bed and pulled the covers up to my chin, closing my eyes.

The first thing that crept into my mind was Oli. And I wasn’t sure if it was because I had thought about the boy from Jackson’s only seconds before, or if it was because I was wondering what Oli would say if he knew I had gotten my hips pierced.

I tried my hardest to ignore thoughts about Oliver, and devote myself to not giving a shit what he thought about anything, but anytime I ever did something that was worth my while, I would always think, I wonder if Oli… You would think I’d be over him by now.

Which I was… Until I met that kid at Jackson’s. He played such a huge part in my life already, and I hardly knew him. For some reason, I thought of him as Oli number two. I could have Oli near me, within my grasp without all the pain and the heartbreak.

And as much I want to tell people that I really do hate Oliver and I can’t stand him, I wouldn’t want to lie to anyone. I hate myself just as much as I hate him.

I hate myself for being such a pussy when it comes to following something that I love. I give up on literally everything. One person tells me a drawing sucks, I quit drawing. I get told that my English paper sucked, I don’t even try hard on the next one.

A boy tells me he loves me with his whole heart, leaves for England and I don’t follow. I’ve never felt such strong feelings like I have for Oli. I’ve never felt loved the way he makes me feel. I’ve never been cared about so much that someone was willing to annoy me until they found out what was wrong.

You would think after being taught so much by one person; how to trust, how to love, how to be at ease with someone and let them see you really are.. I would be more content with losing Oliver.

But I’m not. All I have are these cute little memories of things he said or did to make me smile, much like the CD that hasn’t left my player since I put it in there.

And even though I want to smile at all these memories, I can’t. Because stupidity sends me to the realization that I let everything fall between my fingers and I can’t smile about anything, because I lost what mattered most to me.