You're Flying

The last box is placed into the new apartment and I sigh in relief before falling back on the couch. Quince joins me soon afterwards and laughs, “What the hell do you have that’s so damn heavy?”

I smile and reply, “Clothes.”

“Damn! Do you really need that many?” He ruffles my hair affectionately and I give him a toothy grin in response. He rolls his eyes and after I finally regain some energy I get up to cook him some dinner. It’s the least I could do since he helped me move to auntie’s place and then into my new apartment.

I’m lucky to have such a great brother.

As I’m stirring the mashed potatoes I can’t help but wonder where Dom’s at. I haven’t seen or heard from him in over a week…then again I did leave him, I did break up with him so it’d probably be weird…but still I’d like to know how he is, how he’s doing.

I sigh and glance back at Quince who is chugging down a bottle of pop. Quince would know. He does live with him after all.

“How’s….How’s Dom doing?” I whisper, making me think that I really don’t want to know. I kind of do but I kind of don’t. I don’t want to hear Quince say ‘the same as usual,’ because that would mean he chose alcohol over me and…I don’t want him to do that. I want him all to myself…

I feel Quince’s eyes on my back. I wait for an answer, but it takes him a while. “He’s fine.”

“Fine as in…the same as usual or fine as in he’s doing better?” I ask and toss some potatoes, corn, and a pork chop on Quince’s plate. I turn and head into the living room and place the plates on the table where Quince quickly digs in.

“Fine as in doing better,” he replies, munching on his food like he hasn’t eaten in year. It causes me to giggle to myself and take a bite of my food with a smile on my face.

“That’s good…”

“Do you miss him?”

I squirm under Quince’s gaze and stare at my food. I never realized how yellow corn is. It’s just so…yellow, like really yellow. Why is that?

“Angel…it’s not bad for you to still like him or to miss him. It’s only natural considering that…”

“Considering what?” I question him with a curious gaze. Quince shrugs in response and continues eating like our short conversation never happened.

~

“I got it!”

“Got what?”

“The job!” I scream, throwing both my arms around Tina and twirling her around in a circle. She giggles and hugs me back.

“Congratulations, but what’s so awesome about working at a book store?” She teases, flicking my nose. I wrinkle it up and groan.

“It has a coffee shop inside…it smells really good.”

Tina howls with laughter. “Only you would look for a job that smelled good.”

“Hey…don’t be hatin’,” I laugh and elbow her in the side. She elbows me back and we walk together to McDonalds. We both felt like being fat asses and pigging out on delicious fattening McDonalds food. Yum!

The two of us sit in a booth. Tina’s talking to me about a party, about some boys she met, but her words sound like nothing to me. They sound slurred because I’m focusing my thoughts on one thing, one very important thing that has been in my life for such a long time, but now it’s gone.

Dom.

Why is it that I’m the one who broke up with him and now I regret doing it? Maybe I should have stayed, continued to try and help him. Would it have worked though? Or would I have been in an abusive relationship like I feared?

I just can’t imagine Dom hitting me…but that night he almost had. What if he did? What if he did hit me? Would I hate him? No, I could never hate Dom, not matter what he did.

Maybe I should go see him? Maybe I should just go…make sure he’s ok?

No…I can’t do that. I left. I’m giving him a challenge, to chose me or the alcohol, and until he chooses I’m not going near him and that’s that…even if I want so badly to see him.

“Angel, are you even listening to me?”

I jump out of my thoughts and smile at Tina. “S-Sorry…no.”

She shakes her head and rubs my hand with her own. With a sympathetic smile she asks, “Have you talked to him?”

“No,” I answer with a scowl. “I can’t…not until he chooses.”

“What if he doesn’t choose you?” She asks and I know she didn’t mean for it to hurt me, but it did. What if the alcohol is more important? What if he doesn’t actually care about me? What if he leaves me behind like garbage?

What if he doesn’t choose me?

What will I do?I don’t have an answer.