All Downhill From Here

“Carson?” I hollered as I heard the front door open and slam shut. After I heard no response, I walked down the stairs and looked into the living room, seeing Carson standing by the front door, setting her keys on the table. She looked over at me and stared for a second before taking her jacket off and throwing it over onto the futon and crossing the living room to go into the kitchen.
I had not seen, or heard, from Carson in at least two or three days. The last time I had seen her was the day of her interview. Er, I guess it was Sunday, now. I guess I had been spending so much time worrying over where Carson was that I lost track of how many days she had actually been gone... Ever since she disappeared, the days seemed to have gotten quite stressful and also run together. I can’t even remember what I had for breakfast yesterday.
It bothered the hell out of me that she went and disappeared for three days and didn’t even bother to tell me that she was going to be gone or who she’d be stay with or where she was. It was annoying and for all I knew, she could’ve been out doing drugs and getting trashed with some of her so called “friends” who only found her entertaining because they could get her to usually take any sort of drug they wanted. How in the world was I supposed to look out for her if she wasn’t even going to tell me where she was going? Not like she had a chance to tell me, considering she had stormed out of the car, but she could’ve shot me a text or something.
I stomped into the kitchen and walked over to Carson as she pulled out a beer from the refrigerator. I ripped the unopened beer from her hand and gave her a look, in which she responded by widening her eyes and raising her brows at me. “What the hell?” I barked, slamming the beer can on the counter, causing a loud clank. She stared at me for a few seconds before outstretching her arm to reach for the beer. I took my hand from the can and smacked her hand away, aggravated. “What the fuck is your problem?” She erupted with anger filling her voice.
“My problem? What’s your problem?” I snapped at her, causing her to scoff and roll her eyes dramatically. “I don’t have a problem,” she mentioned, crossing her arms over her chest. I sarcastically chuckled at her and rolled my eyes. “You call disappearing for three days not having a problem, Carson?” I inquired, arching my brow at her. “You’re the one classifying it as a problem, I just call it taking a break,” she simply stated, shrugging her shoulders. “You do realize that you’d only have to “take a break” if there was problem, right?” I mentioned.
Carson scoffed and put her hands on the hips, glaring at me darkly. “Alright, there was a fucking problem. Happy now, asshole?” she snapped. “Where the hell were you? Who were you with?” I questioned, giving her the same attitude that she was giving me. “Does it matter?” she pushed passed me and headed to the living room, “Don’t be a hypocrite and get involved in my life.” “Hey!” I spun around and grabbed her upper arm, jerking her back around to face me. Just as I jerked her arm back, her hand came flying towards me and she smacked me right across the face with force that almost knocked me off my feet.
I felt the immediate sting come across my cheek from the contact of her hand to my cheek. “Don’t you dare touch me, you prick,” she snapped, taking a step away from me as soon as I released my hand from her arm. “What the fuck was that for!?” I shouted at her, putting my hand against my cheek where she slapped me. “That’s fucking unfair, Jesse,” she barked, “If you’re going to jump my ass about getting on your case and getting involved in your life, then I’m going to jump your ass about getting involved in mine.” She spun around and raced out of the room and up the stairs, slamming her door as hard as she could once she got into her room.
I stood there, frozen by what just happened. She made a point and I immediately felt like shit for what I did. I totally jumped her ass about getting involved in my life and then turned around and tried to do the same to her. She was completely right and I was being unfair by doing that to her. I was acting like a hypocrite. I groaned and rubbed my cheek with my fingertips, wishing that she stinging sensation would go away. I leaned over the counter and sighed, shaking my head. I eyed the beer can before quickly snatching it and pressing the cold can against my hot cheek, feeling a slight relief.
How could I have just fucked that up more than I already did? I mean, anyone else would’ve handled this better, but, oh no, not me. I just had to fuck shit up with Carson once again. My stomach was knotting and I felt like vomiting. I cracked opened the top of the beer and guzzled it down, hoping that if I got a buzz it would take the edge off of how I was feeling and I could get my mind set straight enough to think of a worthy enough apology to her.



I had gone to bed early the night before due to how shitty I felt about getting into another fight with Carson. Unfortunately, I didn’t get any sleep because of the fight and how awful I felt about how I was talking towards and treating her. I had tried talking to her in the morning when I saw her, but she gave me the cold shoulder and didn’t say a word to me. I didn’t dare lay a finger on her after what she did to me last night, so I figured that I’d try talking to her when I got back home tonight, if she was even there when I returned.
I had just arrived at the Laundromat and was about to walk in when I saw Mr. White walking out. I pulled my brows together and stopped in my tracks, “Yo, Mr White.” He looked up at me and nodded his shiny bald head, acknowledging my presence before walking over to his green car. “Where’re you going?” I questioned, wondering why the hell he was leaving when we were supposed to cook a batch, or even a couple, today. He stopped and looked back over his shoulder at me, staring for a minute.
He fully turned to look at me and shook his head, “I’m going home, Jesse.” I tilted my head and stared at him, even more confused than I was just a minute ago. “What? Why?” I asked. He sighed and walked closer to me, standing only a few feet away from me now, “Because we’re ahead of schedule and I am tired. I cooked all weekend long because you weren’t there.” I scoffed and threw my hands up in frustrating, “Well, I was a little occupied, bitch.” “Look, if you want to cook, then you be my guest. Go ahead and go cook, but I am going home,” he stated before turning around.
“I will!” I stated, turning and heading into the building before stopping dead in my tracks and thinking for a second about what he had told me. I turned, “Yo, wait, Mr. White. How’re we ahea- Mr. White!” I stopped and jogged over to his car just as it began to pull out of his parking space. “Mr. White!” I shouted, hoping that he’d hear me and stop the car, but he didn’t and continued driving away.
I chewed on my bottom lip before groaning loudly and heading over to my car, climbing in and slamming the door as soon as I got in. What the hell did he mean we were “ahead of schedule”? We couldn’t have been. Last I heard, we were behind or barely even on schedule. I mean, it is Mr. White and I guess that he could’ve gotten caught us up and gotten ahead of the schedule if he really did work all weekend, like he said he did, but it was hard for me to believe. Whatever. At this point, I really didn’t care but I was curious as to what I was going to do for the rest of the day considering that I didn’t have to work and also considering Carson wasn’t going to hang out with me today, since she was ignoring me. I figured that I'd go home and try to get some sleep, or just watch some TV for a while.