The Quiet of Compazine

“Is there something on my face?” I asked once I chewed and swallowed another bite of my burger.

“No…it’s just… I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat before,” John admitted with a laugh, helping himself to some more French fries. “It’s quite fascinating.”

“Fascinating,” I repeated him with a scoff, eating to my heart’s content. I can’t remember the last time I’d eaten anything. I guess I was really hungry, especially considering that fact that I had my stomach pumped before I went into my short lived coma.

“I’d better get back to the hospital,” I mumbled, wiping my mouth with a napkin.

“We’ve got somewhere to be first,” John told me as he grabbed my hand and we walked back to his car together. “Oh, don’t worry, Porter, your dad’s fine with it,” John assured me as he opened my door when he noticed my discomfort. “He kind of wants you where your mom can’t find you right now…”

“That makes sense,” I mumbled, gnawing on the straw of my drink as I got into my seat. John scrolled through his iPod for a bit before he settled on some Tears for Fears. I smiled as I softly sang along to “Head Over Heels.” The drive was quiet save for the music and I couldn’t figure out where he was taking me. “You’re not asking me about my mom?” I asked John, viewing him from my peripherals.

John shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road. “I’ll wait until you want to tell me about her,” John said simply, turning into someone’s driveway. “I’m not like that psychiatrist lady. You tell me what you want to tell me when you want to tell me. I want you to be comfortable with me. I want you to trust me. And, as a patient man, I don’t mind waiting for the things that I want…especially since what I want is you.”

“Stop it,” I laughed softly in an attempt not to cry, lightly slapping his face. I couldn’t decide if he was being cheesy or sweet, but he rarely talked to me like this, so I decided he was being sweet. And, damn, could John be sweet when he wanted to.

“You know you like it,” John chuckled, leaning over the console to kiss me. It had been too long since I’d felt his lips on mine. I forgot what an amazing kisser John was. “As much as I’m enjoying this,” John sighed when I started kissing along his jaw and working my way down to his neck. “I think we ought to stop now, Porter… we have an audience, after all.”

At the word “audience,” I snapped back into my seat and as far away from John as possible. “What?” I asked nervously, looking at the house John had parked in front of. I could make out four heads in the window, which all quickly moved to make way for the drapes. “Who…”

“Well, I met your parents…the least you can do is meet my friends,” John teased, exiting the car so he could get my door, as usual.

“They’re all, uh, your age?” I asked nervously as he helped me out of the car, refusing to let go of his hand as we walked up the steps.

“Oh, you know Pat and Garrett already. Then there’s Jared, my roommate, you remember? Kennedy’s a year younger than me. Oh, and there’s Rex, Moose, Tim, Halvo…” John went on and on. I forgot he was such an extrovert and tried not to sigh. This whole “meeting” would be quite taxing on me, I could already tell…

John introduced me to everyone, keeping my hand in his throughout the ordeal. The phrase “Hey, (insert name of friend here), this is my girlfriend, Porter” was repeated at least fifteen times, if not more. Everyone was so touchy, too – they all greeted me with hugs. That, and there were red solo cups everywhere.

I was happy to find Pat and Garrett and hugged the both of them tightly, despite my body aching in protest. John was chatting with the one named… Halvo, I think. “You scared us,” Patt muttered, still hugging me.

“You know, I’m kind of glad we didn’t go to the hospital to see you… I don’t think I could’ve handled it,” Garrett admitted, offering me one of the infamous red solo cups. “You want? It’s just Fanta.”

“I’m good,” I told him as I gestured to my drink from In-N-Out. “How have you guys been? Talk to me. I hate missing school.” The three of us crammed onto the loveseat in the living room and talked for a bit. John was in the kitchen, and I was a little displeased to see him also imbibing copious quantities of alcohol, but I wasn’t going to be the controlling kind of girlfriend. He was of drinking age, as were his friends, so…

After a nice half hour of talking with Pat and Garrett – they had the attention spans of five year olds – I glanced back at the kitchen, but John was gone. I swallowed hard and hesitantly walked around the house in search of him. I wanted to go home. Not the hospital – home. This was Pat’s house, and although he said I was more than welcome to spend the night, I really needed some alone time and some quality reading.

“Hey… Kennedy, right?” I asked the young man who was just watching the beer pong game on the dining table. He was one of the boys in John’s band. I remembered him from the Barnes and Noble. He nodded and smiled warmly at me, putting his cup down. “Have you seen John anywhere?”

“Oh, he’s, uh,” Kennedy said vaguely, laughing a bit. “Oh, he’s around. What’s wrong? Do you need anything?”

“Oh, I’m just kind of not feeling awesome right now and I kind of wanna go home,” I said plainly.

Kennedy nodded and was starting to offer to take me home, but John stumbled out of the bathroom, looking more than mildly intoxicated. “Oh, hey, girl,” he said with a smile when he saw me.

“Ok, yeah, could you take me home?” I sighed a bit dejectedly to Kennedy. He nodded and put down his cup, motioning for me to follow him.

“Wait, wait, wait. Porter, where are you going?” John asked with the whiniest voice ever as he hugged me from behind.

I turned around and kissed his cheek, because I suspected he had just been vomiting in the bathroom. “I’ll call you tomorrow, alright, John?” I said slowly, ruffling his hair when he nodded.

“You’re not mad, are you?” John asked blearily, still refusing to let me go.

You showed me to your friends like I’m some pet of yours and then you abandoned me to get shitfaced. What do you think? “What makes you think that?” I asked with a laugh, breaking his grip on me. “Look, John, I’m just kind of tired, and I wanna go home,” I said with a frustrated sigh. “I said I’ll call you tomorrow. Bye.” I may have said that a bit too brusquely, but I wanted to get out of the fucking house. Being around lots of people seriously drained me.

And seeing what John was like around lots of people was all the more draining.