Twisted Thoughts

It was nearing two in the morning and Alaska Hayes found herself to be one of only three patrons in the open twenty-four-hour diner. The cold, slick vinyl of the chair she was sitting in made noise every time she moved due to her drenched jeans. There was a cup of steaming hot coffee cradled in between her hands, though she’d yet to take a single sip. Her chocolate eyes were fixed on the large window in front of her, watching as every rain drop that fell from the sky, drizzled down the glass; she couldn’t bring herself to concentrate on much else.

“Alaska?”

She turned in her seat, her eyes landing on Brian. He was dressed in a pair of black sweats and a grey hoodie that was a bit too big for him. His raven hair was more disheveled than normal, letting her know that he had probably rolled right out of bed after their phone call. “Bri,” she said, finally letting out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

He walked around the table, taking a seat in the chair across from her. His laced fingers rested on the tabletop and as a waitress came to serve him, he waved her off politely, before turning to face Alaska. His honey brown eyes scanned over every inch of her face. “’Laska, you look like shit,” he bluntly told her.

And she knew he was right. Her dark locks were wet from the rain and tangled in a matted mess. Her eyes had to have been rimmed red from crying and she didn’t have a speck of make-up on, leaving all of the blemishes and spots she’d normally tried so hard to cover, to be seen.

“I know,” she mumbled, her gaze dropping to his tattooed hands.

“Well … are you gonna talk? You woke me up to come out in this fucking rain,” he questioned after several moments, his tone holding slight annoyance.

“He broke up with me. Hunter broke up with me,” she told him. And even just saying the words out loud made a fresh set of tears spring to her eyes, and her body suddenly felt cold again – like she was standing back out in the pouring rain.

Brian’s mouth parted, but no words followed. He simply sat and stared at her for a moment before finally clearing his throat. “I … uh … I’m sorry, ‘Laska,” he said slowly, bringing one hand up to rub the back of his neck.

Alaska sniffled, shaking her head. “After three fucking years, he told me that his feelings for me had gone away.” Her shoulders were beginning to shake with sobs now, and she brought her hands to her face, crying into them.

She’d never been good with crying in front of anyone, and therefore, she kept the sight to a minimum. At the moment, however, she couldn’t be bothered with caring about how she looked or if she appeared weak. She felt broken and abandoned and for once, she was letting it all show.

“Ah, ‘Laska, c’mon … don’t cry,” Brian pleaded, wrapping one hand around her right wrist. “Alaska, it’s gonna be alright,” he tried.

His attempts failed, though, and Alaska continued to cry for another several moments, allowing her heartbreak to be seen to those in the diner. Brian sat quietly across from her, and when she was finally able to reign in her emotions, she brought her eyes to meet his.

“You’re still shit at trying to comfort someone,” she said, trying to make a joke out of the situation. Brian didn’t laugh, though.

“’Laska, why did you call me? I mean … we aren’t exactly friends,” he queried. “We haven’t gotten along in years and you know that as well as I do.”

She sniffled once more, wiping under her eyes. “Because seven years ago you told me the same thing,” she stated.

His head cocked to the side, his brows furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“When we broke up, you told me that your feelings for me had gone away, too,” she said, leaning forward on the table, the steam from her coffee warming her skin. “Why?” she asked, plead in her voice.

Brian sighed, shaking his head. “’Laska, that was a long time ago. It’s not the same thing.”

“But it is!” she protested, her tone rising slightly. “What I do keep doing wrong, Bri? I mean … it has to be me, right?”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat before rising to his feet, wringing his hands in a nervous manner. “I’ll call Annie for you, alright, Alaska? She’ll know what to do,” he told her, not waiting for her response before going toward the doors.

Alaska jumped from her seat, running after him. She cursed his legs for being able to take much longer strides than her own as she raced up the sidewalk, the puddles of water splashing right through her shoes and soaking her socks. “Brian!” she yelled, desperate for him to stop. His footsteps halted, but he didn’t turn around. When he was within reach, she grabbed his shoulder and spun him around, making him look at her. “Why?”

He ran his hands over his face, and she knew he was trying hard not to be aggravated with her. “Why, what, ‘Laska?”

She licked her lips, tasting her salty tears mixed with the rain. “I tried to fix us, you know? I tried to change – to be what you wanted – but you still let me go. Why?”

“Because I was nineteen, Alaska!” he groaned, throwing his hands in the air. “I wasn’t worried about having a girl back home waiting for me! I just wanted to make music with my best friends and that was it,” he explained, looking into her eyes. “At this point, does it even matter, ‘Laska? You and me – we hate each other.”

For the umpteenth time since she’d met him when she was ten years old, Alaska felt her heart being demolished by the man before her. It was a talent he had, she’d come to realize; he always knew just the right words to say that would shatter her already battered soul.

“I’ve never hated you, Brian,” she told him, her voice wavering. She watched as his facial expression softened and he tried to reach for her, but she took a step back, shaking her head. “No, it’s alright. I was stupid for calling you here tonight. I’m sorry.”

“Alaska, just-“

She choked out a cry, not able to help herself. “Forget it, Brian. Please, just forget about tonight.” She pulled her keys from her pocket and walked away, going back to the lot of the diner.

Her car was parked in one of the first spots and she was grateful for that as she took a seat behind the wheel, starting the engine. She sat idly for a moment, allowing the warmth to envelope her shaking body. She knew it wasn’t completely from the cold, but there was nothing she could do about that right now.

Alaska’s mind was far away as she drove home. The beaches, houses and buildings were nothing but blurs to her as she sped past them, her mind solely intent on getting back into bed and sleeping everything away.

When she had finally arrived, she wasted no time as she dashed through the front door of her town home. She ignored the fact that she had left the television, as well as the lamp on in the living room, as she made her way into her room. She peeled off the wet clothes from her body, save for her bra and underwear before crawling underneath her thick comforter. She curled into a tight ball, bringing her knees to her chest and allowed her tears to freely fall onto her sheets.

Alaska had loved Hunter. She may not have been in love with him, but she loved him nonetheless. He was a constant – someone she had been able to rely on. But he’d always told her that she was too needy. When she’d ask him to tell her that he loved her, he’d push her away and insist that she should already know that fact.

She’d tried so hard to be better. She’d tried at first with Brian, who still remained the only man she’d ever truly fallen in love with to this day. When she’d failed at that, she couldn’t bring herself to date for years. In fact, she didn’t do a whole lot for years; she just hadn’t been able to. And when Hunter came along, he was something like a saving grace for her. But, once more, she hadn’t been enough.

“Eventually, all there’s left to do is sleep,” she murmured quietly to herself as she closed her eyes, begging for slumber to overtake her; whether it was temporarily or permanently didn’t exactly matter to her.