Another Sentimental Argument

The next few days go by quickly without much sadness. I go to my job as a waitress and laugh and enjoy my coworkers. We all hate our jobs at the restaurant so much that we've actually come to love it in a weird way.

"Shit, I can't believe I just did that!" Carson comes into the back of the kitchen shaking his head profusely. I furrow my eyebrows at him, asking him to explain further. "Logan! I fucking dropped this guy's steak right in front of him and then you know what I did!?" His smile grows wild. "I laughed! I just sat there and laughed! I mean, I wasn't actually sitting there because I was standing obviously..." He trails off and before he can recover for his jumbled up words, we are both in a fit of hysterics and forget about everything else except the image of a disgusted expression on an old, rich man's face and the careless one of Carson's. I am laughing so much that I lean into him and rest my forehead on his upper arm. He then wraps me into a sloppy hug and then I get a quick, dizzy flashback of two years ago.

I had never thought twice about when Carson had tried to sleep with me at that party two years ago. Because honestly, I didn't remember it. What I did remember was waking up in Billie Joe's truck right before the sun came up, wiping dry blood from his nose. A wound that was caused directly by Carson's fist, and indirectly by my stupidity. But Billie had looked so beautiful and I had acted so tough as if I were angry at him for taking me away from Carson and that party and taking me away from everything—but truthfully I had never been so grateful in my life. I was too scared to show him that I was grateful. Even too scared to mutter a "thanks." I think so many thoughts in my head at once, sometimes I just assume that people hear them too and I don't have to explain myself. A bad habit that seems to get worse. I want to be like Billie and do things that I want and say how I feel. But he is just a complete thunderstorm and I'm not even a raindrop.

"Hey, at least this shit's almost over!" Carson chimes happily, peering down at me.

I smile up at him. "Did you mean to say shift?"

He waves his hand at me before turning to grab another plate of steak that the chef has repaired while we were laughing at Carson's mishap from earlier. "It's all the same to me!" He flahses a reckless grin and exits through the swinging doors leading into the dining area.

I got off of work at seven—which is early for me. Taking advantage of the extra time, I decide to go the grocery store to pick up a few/probably more than a few items considering the only steady food and drink I've had in my apartment have been pizza and alcohol.

Upon walking into the Food World, I am suddenly hit with the realization that apparently everyone in town likes to do their grocery shopping at half past seven on Thursday nights. As I'm pushing my buggy down the chip aisle (one of my personal favorite aisles), I see a mess of blonde hair, and scuffed up green Chuck Taylors and I feel my mouth say "Mike!?"

He turns around immediately, his wide eyed expression melting into a smile that takes up his entire face as his comes toward me and wraps his arms around me, still keeping a steady hold on the sour cream and onion chips he had in his hands. I take in a deep, happy breath and he pulls away.

"Well, I was almost entirely sure that you had fallen off the face of the planet." He begins walking forward and I follow with my buggy. "Ever since I helped you move into your apartment, I haven't heard a single thing from you." He casts a look over his shoulder at me—feigning annoyance.

I laugh at his failed attempt—Mike only looks calm and serene all the time. "I'm sorry, Mike. I've been a little crazy mess lately, it seems." The words slip from my mouth easily because I know Mike just understands things.

He nods while he turns onto the next aisle. "Yeah..." The way his voice trails off makes me think he knows something I don't, or he's about to bring it up. I wait patiently until he does. "Beej has been talking about ya."

My stomach drops, but I catch it and say, "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah." Mike picks up a block of cheddar cheese and puts it into his basket. "Says he's been over there, to your apartment."

"Twice." I pick up the same brand of cheddar cheese and chunk it into the buggy.

"I know about the first time. I'm the one who told him where you were staying at." He offers up a little sheepish grin and I only shrug with a smile, letting him know it's okay, although I can feel my stomach performing acrobats by just talking about Billie.

"Why did he decide randomly after two years to see me?" I try to sound nonchalant, but that effort is shot to hell when my voice cracks at the end. I love Mike because he pretends not to notice.

"He wasn't too clear. But he's been acting a little more out of his mind than usual." Mike picks up some orange juice to put in his basket before turning his head to face me. "Guess he just wanted to see you."

"Yeah," I bite my lip as I duck to find some yogurt on the bottom shelf with the best expiration date. "That's all he said when I asked him. We didn't really say much." My voice sounds as if it's in a fuzzy daydream and I try to just focus on the expiration dates on these yogurts even though I can feel Mike's eyes boring into my back.

When Mike doesn't speak for the next few seconds, I decide it's time to stop hiding in the dairy section and look him in the eyes. He knows me too well because as soon as my eyes reaches his, he smiles sympathetically. "You two have an impeccable talent of making everything ten times more complicated than it actually is."

Mike's right.

"Look, I know there's some years between you guys," Mike starts as he gently places a loaf of bread in his basket before picking back up, me anxiously awaiting what he's going to say. As if it will be the best piece of advice I've ever heard and it will automatically change my ways and make everything between Billie and I happy like it was for maybe for those small thirty minutes when I first walked down into Billie's basement and he smiled up at me with the words "Hey, beauty queen" and I let him kiss me while I sat on his dryer and I didn't think about anything else but his lips. "But if you two will just give each other a chance to speak, I think you'll both figure things out."

Good thing Mike's back is to me because at his words, my mouth drops slightly because I am completely shocked by his response. "Just give each other a chance to speak?" What kind of vague and utterly useless advice is that! Mike is a guru for these types of situations and here he is giving me the ole "just talk it out" speech. I roll my eyes and try not to look angry when I walk beside him.

"Well, I've got to get going. Band practice." Mike says as he wraps his free arm around me. I nod into his chest. "You should come by our place soon. We've got a new drummer! His name's Tre. Don't think you've ever met him." I shake my head. "Yeah, well, he's already heard a lot about you. He'd love to meet you!" I feel my mouth give a crooked smile in response to Mike's whole one. "Call me up sometime, babe. You know I miss you." His words are soft and sincere and I forget about his lame advice for a second as he pulls me in for one last hug before heading to pay for his groceries.

Later that night, after putting my groceries away in my apartment, I travel out to the pier and sit on one of the benches over looking the water. I am not sure why I'm here—I don't come here often. But seeing the water in the moonlight makes me wish I did.

In my wild mind, I have a hope that maybe Billie will show up here while I'm sitting on this bench over looking the water. I hope that he will show up in his black jacket with the hood covering his dyed hair, with his hands jammed in the front pockets. He'll be looking thoughtful and gracefully somber as he walks the edge of the pier, only centimeters separating him from falling into the water. He will be thinking of fragments of song lyrics and seeing short films of memories in his head when he finally looks up and sees a girl sitting on the bench. Before he recognizes her face or recalls a name, his body will know before him because his stomach will turn upside down and that's how he will know that he knows that girl. He will realize that that girl is the girl.

But no one shows up tonight except a middle aged couple holding hands and not speaking to each other but looking in the same direction. And at the sight, I feel lonely and sort of upset and decide to go back to my apartment and watch reruns of Happy Days and maybe order some pizza.