I've Hoped For Change, It Gets Better Everyday

“So, Abigail, what do you say?”

I looked down at our feet. They were ignoring the sound of music was going on in the background, but I could barely hear it. This truly was insane. What did I want? Jack. I know that’s wrong, but it’s true. Even though I couldn’t bear to let this chance go, I couldn’t bring myself to accept either. It wouldn’t be fair to Zack.

“I’m sorry, Zack, I can’t. It just wouldn’t be right.” I looked up at his face, hoping that I didn’t hurt him in any way.

He let out a long sigh. “Why? It’s because of Jack isn’t it?”

I nodded. “I know that seems stupid, and I admit that it’s not healthy for me to keep hoping, but I can’t just forget about him and switch to you. It wouldn’t be fair, to either of us. Zack, I love you like a friend, not as anything more. You’re an amazing guy and any girl would be lucky to have you, but I’m just not the right girl for you. I’m really sorry. I’d love to say yes, but I’d only hurt you and our friendship,” I explained.

Zack smiled slightly. “Fine, you kind of have a point. I guess I can live with that. Can I at least kiss you? Just once, and I promise to leave you alone about it, I just want to at least have that much.”

I thought for a moment. It couldn’t hurt right? “Just once, and we’re back to being best friends, and we leave this conversation between us.”

“Deal,” Zack leaned in as I stood there waiting. His lips pressed gently into mine, warm and sweet. He wrapped his arms around my waist and mine found their way around his neck. Then his tongue traced along the edge of my mouth, asking my permission to be let in. I opened my mouth slightly; if this was a onetime deal, I’d give him what he wanted.

Zack was an amazing kisser. Such a shame that I didn’t get the complete chance to enjoy it because halfway through I was ripped away from him.

“What the fuck is this?” Jack was staring at the two of us with furious eyes. I hadn’t seen him this mad in a while, not since he’d been worried when I’d run off back when we first met.

“It’s nothing,” I defended. “It’s just a kiss, what’s it to you anyway?” I snapped at him. Jack didn’t say anything; he only stared stupidly at me.

“That’s what I thought.” I shoved past him on my way to the bar. Someone grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

“What the hell is going on?” Jack demanded.

“Why do you care so much? I thought I told you to leave me alone?” I spat, my blood boiling. “You have no right to pretend to care. You lost that a long time ago.”

“You have no right to say that!” Jack accused. “We’re best friends!”

“No, we were best friends, until I found out exactly what you thought of me!” I interrupted. “You were using me for your little ego boost!”

“That’s not true, Abby! I liked you as a friend. I never told you any differently.”

I didn’t answer him, because what he said was true. He never did tell me that he liked me as anything more that a friend and that hurt. I looked away; I didn’t want to cry in front of him, not again. I remembered my conversation with Lisa.

“Did you know that I liked you as more than a friend?” I finally asked quietly. He nodded slowly. “Then you shouldn’t have gotten so close. You shouldn’t have held my hand, or called me beautiful or anything of the sort if you knew that I cared for you in a different way from how you cared about me.”

“You’re an amazing person, Abby, you know that.” Jack started. “But-”

“But nothing, just leave me alone, please,” I begged sincerely, my vision was blurry thanks to the tears that were brimming in my eyes. “Because I can’t just turn my feelings off like a light switch and seeing you with Linda hurts more than you could ever know. So just please, if you care about me at all, even as just a friend; then leave me alone.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack whispered, he was useless when girls cried. He didn’t like it. “I’ll – I’ll leave you alone.”

He made a move to hug me, probably hoping to stop my crying and comfort me, but I backed away. “I have to go.”

I didn’t wait for an answer and simply began walking. God, at this moment, a shot of vodka would be amazing. The thought surprised me; I’d never once thought about drinking and never had before, but I’d seen enough movies and TV shows to know that it was sometimes enjoyable. In fact, it could very well be exactly what I needed.

I deviated from my path and made my way to the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror and wiped my eyes, smudging eyeliner around them with my fingers. Then I got to work on the stamp on my hand, scrubbing diligently. I was surprised to see the ink disappear after a while; I’d thought the owners would have invested more money into something more permanent. It was barely noticeable. I dried my hands and went toward the bar.

I sat down at a stool and studied the surrounding area. I couldn’t see any of my friends, and for that I was actually thankful. I couldn’t be bothered to think about what was going through their minds.

“Hey there, can I buy you a drink?” A male voice asked me. I smiled, perfect.

“Sure, strongest thing they’ve got please,” I answered and hoped that I wouldn’t get busted yet. The guy who’d talked to me ordered and sat down. The bartender slid two drinks to us. I could smell the alcohol without being too close to it; it reminded me of the stuff my parents kept in the cabinets at home. I could only imagine how it tasted.

“Thanks,” I told him as I picked up the glass hesitantly. I took a small sip and almost choked.

“Are you okay?” he asked me.

I nodded. “Yeah, I just didn’t realize the strongest thing they had was acid.” I made a face.

He chuckled. “I’m Darren.”

“Abigail,” I replied. I eyed my glass again and decided that if I wanted my situation to be out of my head, then I needed to suck it up and chug it. I lifted the glass and brought it to my lips. I shut my eyes and threw back as much of the liquid as I could. It burned my throat and I sputtered, but managed to keep it down.

“Well someone’s trying to forget about something unpleasant,” Darren mused.

“I’ve had a horrible night, you’re right, I am.” I drank the rest of it and called over the bartender.

“Another one please,” I pointed to the empty cup. He nodded hesitantly, studying my face. I looked away, hoping he would ignore the fact that I did look young. He handed me another drink anyway. I muttered a thank you and kicked back the drink. This time it didn’t burn quite as much, which made me happy.

Darren kept smiling at me. “What?” I asked.

“Nothing, you’re just quite interesting. Would you like another one of those?” he pointed to my now empty cup.

I could barely feel the effects of the liquor at this point, so I nodded. I wanted to forget everything about tonight. The cup was brought and placed in front of me. It only took two minutes to empty that one too. Before long, things were blurring and Darren was leading me to the dance floor. I almost tripped, but he caught me easily.

“Thanks!” I slurred. The alcohol was starting to take effect. Everything Darren was saying was hilarious and I was laughing like an idiot. Then Darren started getting a little more hands on than I wanted. His hands traveled down to my butt then made their way back up towards my chest.

“Stop,” I mumbled. I tried futilely to push him off, but instead he brought me closer to him and started kissing my neck. I started squirming around. “Stop it.”

“Just hush,” he told me. “Stop squirming.” He lifted me slightly and pushed me to walk off the floor. I couldn’t tell where we were going, and this made me panic. My body felt sluggish and I couldn’t make myself move correctly; I was depending on Darren to keep me steady.

We entered a room; that much I could tell, but it was dimly lit. I could make out darker shapes, but anything too detailed went unnoticed. Darren kept kissing and touching me, something I tried to protest to, but he didn’t stop. I was pushed back onto a couch and Darren’s hands pulled at the hem of my shirt. I was too drunk by now to really do anything. I was tired suddenly, too tired to fight him off; alcohol had depleted any strength I had. I faintly realized that my jeans were being pulled off.

“No, stop, I don’t want this,” I feebly attempted to speak, but I’d underestimated how drunk I was. My words came out as a mumbled mess instead of what I’d intended. Then fear sobered me up enough to comprehend one thing:

This was happening, and I couldn’t do anything about it.