Sinking Faster

“Oh, right, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Josh. I’m the guy throwing the party? I’m a friend of Pat and Garrett‘s.”

“Oh, right…” I replied, pointing at him. He was cute, I suppose. He had a soft face and untidy black hair. He had his eyebrow pierced and dressed in the way all the band guys did, in skinny jeans and a v-neck. He seemed friendly enough, so I took the drink from his hand, sipping it cautiously.

“Yeah. You know them right? They’re from The Maine,” he added, grinning profusely. I was surprised that he even thought to approach me, because I was sure as hell that I looked somewhere between upset and furious, which was not always a good mix.

“Oh, yeah. My friend Courtney’s dating John…” I answered, shifting my gaze around, subtly trying to ease my way out of the conversation. He did seem like a nice guy, but I was getting the impression that he would continue to pester me with millions of insignificant questions, and I was not in the mood to be subjected to answer them.

“Ah. That’s cool. So, do you go to -”

“I’m sorry, Jake,” I interrupted him, quickly hitting my forehead upon realizing that I had mixed up his name. “I mean Josh…um, can I possibly use your bathroom? I really have to piss.” I mustered up the best smile I could, crossing my legs.

“Yeah, sure…” He replied uncertainly, staring at me curiously. “It’s upstairs,” he said, pointing to the ceiling.

“Alright, thanks,” I replied flatly, setting the cup on the counter.

“Yeah, no problem. If you want to talk later, just -”

“Okay, I will,” I responded swiftly, walking down the hall toward the staircase. I knocked on the bathroom door just in case someone was in there, but it appeared to be unoccupied.

I closed the door and paced along back and forth, soon staring at myself in the mirror, my palms flat against the marble counter. I couldn’t believe that in the past few weeks, Garrett still refused to acknowledge the all time we spent together, which lately, seemed to be quite a lot.

And in that time, I barely went out at night, and the only time I got plastered was when we went to house parties. So to speak, I hadn’t slept with anyone in the time that I had met the guys of The Maine. I didn’t plan this at all, nor did I expect it. I didn’t know where Garrett was getting that particular piece of information from - I knew that I had never let anything slip that pertained to sleeping with anyone, and I knew that Courtney hadn‘t, either.

Sure, if anyone had asked me who the last person I slept with was, I would have answered Matt Willis -an attractive guy that I’d see at numerous parties from time to time. But that was weeks ago, before I had even met Garrett.

So where this was coming from, I had know idea. I finally came to terms with the idea that, yes, I did care what Garrett thought of me. And yes, it did bother me, despite the amount of times that I had told myself that I didn’t give two shits about the boy.

I didn’t know how much time I spent in the there, but I gradually began to feel the tenacious effects of the drink that Jake had given me. All I could feel was the horrible pounding that rang throughout my head; it felt as if it was crumbling down upon me. I leaned down, holding my head in my hands against the counter, panicking, unsure of what to do, also blaming myself for being so senseless for taking a drink from someone I wasn’t familiar with.

I turned the faucet on, soon splashing cold water on my face as if it would help in any way. Seconds later, I opened the bottom cabinets in hope of finding some Asprin, however, I felt the atrocious sensation of the corner of the door thrash into my forehead.

“For fuck’s sake!” I shouted crossly, backing up from the cabinet, my hand instinctively clutching my forehead. I scooted over to the wall, trying to support my head, but it was useless, since the blood was gushing already.

Now, of course, my head hurt ten times more, to the point where I couldn’t think straight. I felt numb, fading slowly in and out of consciousness.

I heard knocking at the door and someone’s voice calling my name. “Come in,” I moaned.

Courtney opened the door, soon gasping upon my, what I assume, horrifying appearance. “Nicole, what the hell happened?”

“I don’t know,” I replied dumbly, letting her look at the wound. “I hit my head.”

She sighed, shaking her head disapprovingly. “Is that vodka I smell? Nicole, I told you not to get trashed!” She walked over and grabbed some toilet paper off of the roll, applying it with increased pressure to my forehead in attempt to stop the bleeding.

“I’m not….” I answered slowly, pulling my knees to my chest. “I just…”

“Exactly,” she snapped, walking out of the bathroom, disappearing. She came back a few minutes later with Garrett trailing behind her, both not at all pleased.

Garrett then exclaimed “Holy shit!” when we saw me sitting on the tiled floor, clutching my head. “What the fuck did you do?”

“She hit her head,” Courtney answered warily for me, crossing her arms. “Can you clean her up or something? She’s so plastered right now. I have to go downstairs and make sure John isn’t passed out...”

Garrett grunted, obviously annoyed. “Alright, I will. Go downstairs.” Courtney sighed and walked out, closing the door behind her.

I attempted to get up from the floor with my hand against the wall, trying to steady myself. I stumbled back, grabbing the counter for support.

“You alright?” Garrett asked, brow lifted.

“No,” I winced, too woozy to form a comprehensive remark.

“I’m only doing this because I owe you for what happened earlier,” he stated, rolling his eyes. “Here, let’s prop you up on the counter.” He lifted me up from underneath my arms onto the counter - since my attempt to do so failed - and my head closely. “We might need some Neosporin. And some gauze tape.”

I felt myself drown back and forth into unconsciousness up until I heard him storm through the contents in the cabinet. “Ha! I found it,” he exclaimed, holding up a small tube of Neosporin and a roll of gauze tape. He unscrewed the cap from the tube, dabbing a tiny bit of the ointment onto his index finger. “This might sting a bit,” he told me, eyes fixated on my head.

He then unrolled the tape, tearing a small piece off to cover the cut, applying it to my head.

I was trying to stay still, I really was, but it didn’t seem possible that I could keep my eyes open for at least thirty seconds without falling into a deep trance.

“Whoa, don’t fall over, okay?” I grunted in response while he steadied me in place, back into sitting position. He rubbed his finger over the tape, sealing it down. He then put the stuff back into the cabinet, and then leaned against the wall, drumming his hands against his legs.

“What to do with you now…” I heard him mutter more to himself than to me.

I was too disorientated to pay attention to anything he was doing; I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the interminable sensation that pulsed throughout my skull. I made a mental note to punch that Jake guy once I was in a sober state.

“Nicole?”

“Hm….” I mumbled slowly, my head now positioned against the cold marble of the counter.

“Can you get up or something? Or stand?” he asked uncertainly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Um..” I tried to sit up, but the move was unsuccessful, as the muscle in my arms was shot to shit, and the fact that every move I made would result in it shaking uncontrollably.

“I’m guessing no,” he declared for the both of us, sighing. “Let me pick you up, then, alright?” He then put one arm on my waist, the other behind my leg, sliding me off the counter. “Hang on to my neck.”

“Okay, “ I replied, throwing my arms around his neck in a blur. He carried me gracefully down the hall to a bedroom. I felt my back hit the mattress as Garrett put me down, walking over to the wall to flip the light switch.

He put a hand on his hip, running the other through his hair. “I really don’t know how you managed to get this drunk this quickly.”

I covered my eyes with my hand, sighing. “He - that Jake kid - Josh? He gave me it.”

“He did? What did he give you?” he asked apprehensively, lifting his eyebrows, now standing in front of me.

“I-I don’t know,” I replied, turning over onto my side.

“Then why did you take it?” he asked, annoyed. “Are you retarded?”

“I don’t want to argue with you right now, Gar,” I replied weakly, putting a pillow over my head.

I heard him shrug, dropping his hands to his sides. “Well, do you want me to get you any Asprin or anything?”

“Yeah,” I replied, although it came out muffled from underneath the pillow. I heard him leave, closing the door quietly. He came back a few minutes later, carrying a bottle of Asprin and a paper cup.

“Hey, Nicole,” he said, tapping my shoulder lightly. “Here.” He held out two tablets and set the cup down on the table beside the bed.

I sat up slowly, brushing my bangs away from my eyes. “Thanks,” I said gratefully, taking the medicine from him, reaching over for the cup. I took a sip of the water, swallowing the tablets, gazing around the room aimlessly. It looked like a typical guest room, clad with a basic dresser, a small TV, a closet, a small bed - although in my peripheral sight I could see a small spec of black move in the corner of the room, along the wall.

I screamed. “Holy shit,” I froze, accidentally spilling the water all over the bed.

“What?” Garrett demanded, alarmed. “What’s wrong?”

I pointed to the wall, at the daddy longlegs that was now crawling on the ceiling. “There’s a fucking spider in here!”

“Jesus, Nicole. You gave me a fucking heart attack. Seriously,” he shouted, clutching his chest. “How did you even notice that in the state you‘re in>” He shook his head dramatically and then preceded to stare at me as if I were delusional.

“Can you kill it?” I asked timidly, holding the blankets up in front of my face, ignoring him.

He rolled his eyes, annoyed again. He took his shoe off and walked over to the corner where the spider was. He jumped up, attempting to whack it with the shoe, the third time being successful. “I killed it,” he declared monotonously, showing me the bottom of the shoe.

“Get it away from me!” I squealed, covering myself with the blankets. I heard him chuckle, putting the shoe down. “Who knew you were afraid of spiders?”

I rolled my eyes from underneath the covers. “Shut up.”

He laughed again. “You should thank me for killing it.”

I shook the blankets off of me and sneered at him. “Thank you, Garrett.”

“It was my pleasure,” he replied slyly, grinning, all too pleased with himself.

I rolled over onto my side, facing the other wall. For a few minutes he just stood there, until the silence was too strong for his liking. “I’m going to go back downstairs now, okay?”

“Alright,” I mumbled. He shuffled across the room to the door, stepping out.

“Wait, Garrett?” I called out, sitting up.

He walked back over to the door, poking his head in. “What now?”

I bit the inside of my mouth, fumbling with the coarse material of the blanket. “Could you - could you maybe stay with me?” I squeaked, turning my head to the side.

“I -” he replied slowly, albeit suspiciously. “Do you want me to make sure there’s no spiders lurking around?” he smirked, arching an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” I answered, giving him a small smile, laying back down. He kicked off his shoes and took off his jacket, throwing it on top of the dresser and walked around to the other side of the bed. I felt the mattress shift as he crawled next to me. I felt him distinctly move closer to me, my back was against his lean chest. He cautiously put his arms around my waist, as if it were a foreign territory he’d never encompassed before. I felt his breath on my shoulder, and an odd sense of tranquility passing through me, replacing the state of disarray in which I was in prior.

“Is this okay?” Garrett asked reluctantly, his hand tickling my side.

“Yeah,” I replied, biting my lip. “Thanks, Garrett.”

“Anything for the lovely lady,” he replied, chuckling.

What felt like a few seconds later, my eyes came to a close. And for once in my life, it felt like as if all was well with the world.