Bitter Pill

I feel like a pebble in the middle of the road. It’s going to get hit really soon. It knows it’s gonna hurt like Hell. I don’t exactly know what hurts the most yet, but I think I hurt all over right now. Head hurts from the continuous banging, arms are numb from the cuts I maintained after smashing a glass just a few minutes ago, throat hurts from screaming.

I feel like an idiot.

“Air…Just get some air Taryn. Go on, you can do it.” I coax myself into getting up. I stumble over a few times due to the bottle of whiskey I drained just before breaking the glass. “Oh, God…I look like Hell but I feel like shit.” I keep thinking to myself as I stagger out of the front door.
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Passing by the short path that leads to the lake, I take another sip of the coffee I bought a few blocks ago. It eases on down my throat and dances with my vocal chords. I’m so pissed right now I don’t even realize that the coffee keeps burning my sore throat. I just swallow hard and keep on walking.

Why am I so pissed in the first place? I should be happy. If he’s telling the truth, then this is his ticket out of my life…forever if I’m lucky enough. But then again there was always this weekend, which would definitely make things 20 times as complicated as the fact of the matter already is. So I guess the main objective would have to be to keep my parents from fucking.

Yeah, right. They’ve been inside each other’s heads for nearly 20 years. It’d never happen. I’d probably wind up going mad by 12pm Saturday and leave the house and that would be their chance. But even if I didn’t leave, they’d still go at it. If they could do it when I was 3, they can do it now.

Sighing to myself, I glare up the street at my crummy apartment. It’s one of the taller buildings and it’s near the end of the street. It’s so awkward looking it’s as if there was a gray cloud always above it, just waiting to pour down cold, bitter raindrops.

“What a stupid building.” I sigh once more, starting past an alley on my right. Before I completely pass it up, I hear something bang into the dumpster that resides inside there.

Scaring the shit out of me, I stop for a moment and look over. It’s a dark and filthy era, litter and cigarette butts all over the place. But it’s so dark that you actually have to squint to see it all. And the last time I saw a clock, it was nearly 7pm, so I could only imagine this place in the middle of the night.

About to resume walking, I hear a voice from within the filth of the alley. It’s quiet so I can’t tell if it be an animal or a person. “What?” I think, taking a step back. There’s another sound from the creature. I hope it’s not another drunk or high person. We have those around this area too. “White Trash” my aunt once called people who lived around like my mother and me. Biting down on my bottom lip, I squint my eyes to be sure. I want it to be a cat so bad and not another person getting a blowjob.

The first thing I make out is a pair of dirty green pants and dirty green sandals bent downwards onto the ground. Quickly glancing up, that’s when I get the whole idea now. His crazy long hair is what gives him away. I catch myself before any words come out. Just as I scoff, I realize he finally notices me too.

Stares dead at me, a nervous expression on his face; or maybe embarrassed.

“…Uh, Taryn…” Nash says helplessly.

“Taryn?!” an indistinct female voice responds quickly. I know just who she is.

“I uh, gotta go…” I say quickly on the verge of laughter.

Laughter.
Laughter and I don’t know why. I don’t know why I feel like screaming and yet here I am, laughing like the hysterical maniac that people make me out to be. But like I said, I don’t know a lot of things.

Passing up the alley quickly, I have a complete outburst of laughter. I laugh so hard I throw down my coffee but keep on laughing. “That costed me $1.30!” I think as I keep on, laughing and staggering.

“Alright, alright; that’s enough Taryn…That’s enough.” I murmur as the last remains of my laughing empty out, slower and more humble now. Walking into my building, I lag my way upstairs like always. Except this time when I get to my door, I don’t have anything to pick the lock with.

“Shit.” I remark, banging my head against the door. Feeling useless once again, I slump to floor and land hard on my ass.

“Damn it!” I whine, rolling my eyes. If I’m lucky, I have to wait a whole 2 hours for Mom to get home so she can let us both in. It seems the only thing she’s good at besides sex is keeping up with the one house key, leaving me to fend for myself.

Unbelievable. This Wednesday was like no other! Where’s all my good mood today? Where’s my annual once-a-week smile? Where did my excitement go? And more importantly, how the Hell can I get all that back?

I’m not upset. And I’m definitely not sad. I just want to know what exactly is going on TODAY. My day. My Wednesday. “Whatever. Hopefully she’ll just come home today.” I think cheerfully. I’m so unusually up-sided today despite the fact that I’m not used to my Wednesday’s turning out as fucking unbearable as this one.

A smile tugs at my face. Balling up with my arms wrapped around my knees, I rock back and forth against the door, waiting. And I smile, for no reason this time.
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“Wake up queridito.” A bleary voice soothes. He says it so softly; the words just waft right into my ear.

Lifting my head up weakly, I look right at Gio. He’s bent down next to me with one of his hands is rubbing up and down my back. “Hi Gio.”

“Taryn what’s going on? Why aren’t you inside?” he asks, glancing at my front door then back at me.

“Oh, that…I don’t have a key Gio. My mom has it. I’m tired.” I explain half-heartedly as my eyes began to droop again.

“I see. Would you like a pin to—“

“A pin? Oh, a pin would be great right now.” I sigh, opening my eyes back up and staring at the man anxiously.

Smiling then rummaging through his pants pocket, Gio pulls out a Bobbie pin and hands it to me.

“Gee, thanks.” I smile, sliding the pin in my hair, “…I’ll just put this up, and wait, for later…” Closing my eyes once again, I lean my head over on Gio’s shoulder.

“Hey, now-now queridito we can’t have you asleep outside…” he begins to lift me up from the floor.

“Why are you here..?” I crack my eyes open slightly, watching him pick the lock to my front door carefully.

“Alright mujercita, how about here…” Gio murmurs, opening my apartment door and walking me over to the living room couch, laying me down gently.

“Gio…What do those words mean..?” my eyes open wide, fighting to stay awake.

“Ah, I was afraid of when you’d ask that…In my parents’ country, Venezuela, they are terms of endearment.” he replies calmly, sitting down next to me.

“Oh. So like, do you have kids or do you stay by yourself?” I ask accidentally, then putting a hand on my mouth.

“No need to be embarrassed queridito, its fine. I do have a son but I don’t see him much. I suppose he thinks he’s too old to see his father.” Gio smiles warmly.

“Oh.” I nod, closing my eyes again.

Even though they’re closed, I can feel his eyes on me. He brushes a few strands of my hair over to the left side of my face and sighs.

“Are you sad Gio?” I moan, a smile forming once again.

“…Just a little queridito but it’s nothing to be concerned about.” Gio sighs, still stroking my hair.

“Do you miss him?” I question him innocently, peeking through my eyes this time.

There’s some grief, and then guilt, and then anticipation. “Aren’t you cute? My-my Taryn, you ask a lot of questions. Of course I do.” The man smiles and caresses my left ear.

“Sorry…” I glance away from him, embarrassedly.

“Oh, it’s fine. You’re just a child mujercita. Ask whatever you please.” Gio shakes his head.

“Well, just one more thing…How long have you lived in America?”

“Oh, of course.”

“You said ‘whatever’.”

“That’s true.”

“So tell me!”

“I’ve been in this country since I was ocho años de edad.” Gio sighs nervously, rubbing a hand through his brown shoulder-length hair.

“Wow…since you were 8?” I ask.

“Yes indeed queridito.” Gio laughs under his breath, “What seems to intrigue you about me?” he nods, little by little, backing away from me.

“Curious.” I lay my head on the arm rest of the couch.

“Ah, curiosity is always an enchanting trait to exhibit.” Gio sighs once again, his eyes full of hunger and desperation.

“Gio, what’s wrong?”

“Don’t mind me Taryn, I’m fine. I should probably get going. I don’t wanna give your mother a heart attack.”

“My mother…Mom. Damn it, that’s right. She’s…gonna be home, soon.” I remember quickly, watching Gio slide off the couch and head for the front door.
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“Wait!” I grab his hand before he’s out of reach.

“Taryn!” Gio exclaims, turning around quickly.

“Wait a minute. I want you to—“

“Want me to what?” Mom demands, walking into the living room.

“Mom…” my voice shakes.

“Taryn, who is this?” she stares at Gio quickly. I can’t read her facial expression but I’m pretty sure she’s pissed.

“Gio Anderson, I stay next door. I came by because I heard something fall and I got worried.” Gio springs up a lie quickly, extending his hand out to Mom as well. She looks at it in admiration and shakes.

“Taryn, what exactly did you break?” Mom glares over at me, trying to hold back her budding confusion.

“I…I tripped over my book bag and uh…Broke a bottle.” I nod, holding up my damaged arm for support.

“Well, I suppose that’s what you get for not putting your stuff away in your room. I tell her that everyday.” Mom rolls her eyes, smiling back at Gio, whose hand she still hasn’t released.

“Ah, I have a son who’s the same way.” Gio nods.

“So, um…Thank you so much for coming by to check on her Gio. She can be a real dud sometimes.” Mom beams, which gives me an insane idea.

“Oh don’t say that Miss…She seemed fine when I got here. I was just concerned is all.” Gio shakes his head.

“I appreciate it…Stacey, Stacey Hatcher. Come by whenever.” My mother gushes, finally releasing his hand.

“Oh I don’t wanna bother you two too much Miss.” Gio smiles at both of us.

“Please, call me Stacey, its fine really…Are you um, busy Friday night by any chance Gio?” Mom begins to work her magic.

“I don’t think so. Would you, like to go out then?”

“That would be great.”

“Yes, it will be. And I assume that Taryn will be okay with this?”

Gio and Mom both glance over at me now.

“Um, I guess its fine. I don’t really—“

“She’ll be fine with it, really Gio. How about I walk you to your door?” Mom suggests, linking arms with Gio and heading back for the front door.

Heading in the opposite direction, I slump into my room, slam the door, and flop in my bed, landing on my back.

“You are a fucking genius Taryn.” I say aloud.

In fact, if things go the way I expect them to, I probably won’t even tell Mom about Dad’s visit.