Status: Work in progress
Shake
Chapter 3
-Harper-
I call bullshit on that “time heals all wounds” thing. It’s been two months and it hurts more, not less. I have a new found tolerance for Jack Daniels, which is annoying ‘cause shit’s $10 a shot. Everything hurts a tiny bit less when I'm drunk though, even if I have to drink more. Garret won’t even look at me anymore, let alone talk to me. He just... shut down after the hotel room and a selfish part of me wonders how he could go from big gesture to… nothing so quickly. Then I start wondering if he really loved me as much as I thought he did, and that leads to the shots and basically living at the local bar so I don’t have to think about that anymore. In true band dad fashion, Lake’s been getting on me for it, and I’ve told him he needs to shove it.
My stomach rumbled insistently and I rolled my hung over ass off the couch, nearly tripping on the blanket I was using while doing it. I looked through the shelves Lake had cleared out for me: nothing. I opened the refrigerator. Also nothing. Apparently I forgot to buy groceries. How did I forget to buy groceries? I dragged my hands over my face, annoyed with myself. I called up my lock screen for the time: 11 a.m. The only bad thing about living with Lake is that he lives in the boonies and everything is 45 minutes away. I sighed. Guess I should go get changed so I don’t starve. I grabbed my car keys off the coffee table and, as they clinked against each other, I winced. I felt like a teenager slinking in hours after curfew as Lake poked his head out of his room and looked at me with the sternest dad expression on his face.
“Relax, dad, I’m just going to get groceries.” I rolled my eyes as I looked for my wallet, which was on top of the TV speakers for some reason.
He glared at me and said, “you know how much I hate that.” before disappearing back behind the wooden door.
Garret and me used to jokingly call him that to mess with him until we found out he really actually did hate it.
***
I was really getting into “Synthetic Sympathy”, one of my new favorite songs, when I noticed a black car tailgating me. I hate when people do this and it always pisses me off ‘cause seriously, what do they hope to accomplish? I’m doing well over the speed limit myself. I flipped him off, trying to get him to move his impatient ass over. Nothing doing. An exit sign flashed by me and he was still bearing down on my bumper. He finally changed lanes but only to speed up and stay just a nose ahead of me, like we were in some sort of poor man’s Fast and the Furious.
Whenever I’m feeling as messed up as I am right now, I have the urge to “race” people like this and right now this is too tempting. I turned “Synthetic Sympathy” up more to try and distract myself.
Ten minutes passed. Another tailgater. What is it, asshole day? Enough of this. I flipped him off and we did the same poor man’s Fast and Furious dance as I had with the first car. This time, however, I pressed the accelerator and veered into his lane to cut him off, as I’d done many times before to show asshole drivers who’s boss. I must have miscalculated the distance he was in front of me, though, because I heard a thunk! and suddenly my car was spinning across the four lane highway. Shit. Instinct must have taken over because another minute later, my car had stopped under an exit sign. When I looked around, I realized I was alone and that the guy whose car I hit must have sped off. My car somehow only had minimal damage and I thanked Hermes for that. I also seemed fine, miraculously, other than my heart beating a million miles a minute. That was too close. I need to splash water on my face or something. I looked up at the exit sign for gas stations, of which there were two. I picked the first one my eyes landed on and tried to prepare myself to get back in the car and drive there.
***
I walked quickly to the bathroom when I got to the gas station, not bothering to look at the cashier and hoping the bathroom didn’t require a key. I splashed the freezing water on my face, dried it, and leaned against the wall, closing my eyes. I wrapped my arms around my waist and found myself wishing Garret was there to hold me and tell me everything would be OK. I took deep breaths in through my nose and out through my mouth, trying not to break down. I didn’t need to be thinking about him, especially right now, and I was just so. tired. of crying over him and what happened.
When I was satisfied that that wouldn’t happen, I came out of the bathroom. I wandered around the snack aisle, hungrier and hangrier, really, than ever. I picked up one of those .50 cent packages of honey-roasted peanuts and a canned double shot espresso drink, put the two things down on the counter, and reached for my wallet. When I looked up to pay the cashier, I had to take another deep breath. I would have had to have been blind not to notice how gorgeous she was: long, straight black hair, dark green eyes, fit, seemed 19, like me, if not 20, and had the warmest smile I’d seen in months.
“You OK, hun?” she asked, concerned.
I shook my head, realizing I must have been staring like a creep, mouth hanging open and all.
“Sorry. Long day.” I said, sticking my debit card in the machine.
She looked at me sympathetically, “I know the feeling.”
I looked at the clock behind her head: noon.
“How long you been on shift?” I said.
“Since 5. I can’t wait to go home. I keep telling myself I only have another hour.”
I took my debit card out and put it back in my wallet.
“Oof. Just thinking of waking up at that time hurts.”
She laughed a melodic laugh that I could listen to for hours. I’m in trouble.
“What do you do?” she asked, the warm smile on her face.
I hoped she didn’t see me wince as Garret’s stupid guitar playing self flashed across my brain.
“I’m in a band called Rare Tuna Cheerleaders.”
She laughed that gorgeous laugh again, “great name.” she paused and said, “wanna get lunch and commiserate about our miserable existences when I get off?” she said half-jokingly.
“Hell yeah. What’s your number?” I said, getting out my phone.
Maybe today won’t be so bad after all.
***
I clicked my cell phone display on, saw that I was 15 minutes early, and, for once, cursed my early-is-on-time-on-time-is-late nature. Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I’d forgotten I was wearing my faded red laundry day shirt and panicked. I hit the button that opened my trunk, praying I had even one clean extra shirt in there. Nothing. Damn. I went back around to search through my front and back seats. Nothing seems to be the theme of the day. No food, no clothes other than this ugly-ass stretched out thing. I did find a small bottle of wrinkle releaser under the driver’s seat. Probably got it as a sample or something last time I went shopping and I just hoped it smelled better than this shirt, which wouldn’t be hard. I closed my eyes, sprayed it, and was relieved that it actually did smell good. I glanced in the mirror and saw that my curls were frizzier than I liked but it wasn’t like I could do anything about that now. I threw the now unnecessary peanuts in the passenger seat and chugged the double shot espresso.
***
“So what’s your sad story?” she said, sticking her spoon into the whipped cream on the chocolate custard milkshake she’d ordered.
I laughed, again, surprised by her bluntness, “you get right to the point, don’t you?”
“Well yeah. Don’t see the point in wasting time.” she smiled, “I’ll go first if you want, though I guess it’s not that sad.”
I nodded and smiled encouragingly for her to go ahead.
“So… my parents didn’t take me not wanting to go into the family grocery business too well and definitely don’t approve of me wanting to go to nursing school… which I’m really hoping financial aid or some miracle scholarship pays for. Which is also why the gas station. It sucks, but it pays the bills and it’s pretty much the only job that’ll work around a full time class schedule.”
She had one of those welcoming faces you want to tell everything to and I found myself desperately wanting to. Wanting to be understood by such a beautiful creature… even if it meant talking about him. So I started the long story. When I finished, she had a look of genuine concern, not pity, on her face which only made me like her more.
“No wonder you looked like such a zombie when you came in. That’s really rough.”
I was relieved her tone matched her face. She put her hand over mine and I started to pull it away until I realized two things: 1) I liked how small and warm her hands were compared to mine. 2) I’d been single for two months now and it wasn’t like Garret was trying to get me back anymore, as much as that hurt. I wish I knew why he just… stopped but OK, you know what, I need to focus.
“Was it OK that I did that?” she asked, concerned.
Dammit, I was hoping she didn’t notice. I really hope I didn’t just screw this up.
“Definitely. It’s just new… in a good way.” I said quickly.
I breathed a sigh of relief when she smiled, left her hand where it was, and asked, “what’s your favorite thing to do outside of music?”
“Don’t laugh, but I really love doing crosswords.”
“All-important question: does Google help you with your crossword answers?” she teased, smirking.
“Are you trying to impugn my honor by saying that I cheat?” I said, fake offended.
She raised an eyebrow.
“Of course not! That takes all the fun out of it.” I said, indignant.
Her smirk broke to an amused smile.
“What do you like to do?” I asked, leaning forward and cupping my chin with my hand.
Her eyes lit up as she said, “Origami. It really chills me out when work and classes get to be too much. I finally got through the swan, which is supposed to be one of the hardest designs, so I’m looking into starting the dragon, which is supposed to be even harder. I’m also obsessed with all things caffeinated, so I make it my mission to find the best coffee and tea around me.”
“What would you recommend around here?” I said, looking into those sparkling dark green eyes.
“Maddie’s. Best cappuccinos and boba tea, which is a feat. Fresh boba tea is so hard to find. If you’re into it, maybe we could go next Friday?”
“I have no idea what boba tea is, but I’d definitely be interested in finding out.”
“Awesome.” she said, smiling as she stuck a French fry in her mouth.
I matched her smile as I sucked up some of my own custard milkshake. Is this what moving on feels like? Or the beginnings of it anyway?
***
Sloane and me were relaxing after our five-month anniversary dinner by watching one of her favorite movies, “Zoolander”. I watched her face as she quoted the next line of the scene and I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much happiness radiating from one person’s face. I smiled as she giggled after doing it on one of the punch lines.
I leaned in and kissed her cheek and when she turned, I said, “you’re adorable when you quote movies.”
She put a finger under my chin and kissed me on the lips, which evolved into us making out on her tiny couch.
“God, I love you.” I heard myself say.
Shit. Didn’t mean to say it like that. She stopped kissing me and looked into my eyes, hers serious. She didn’t say anything for a full second. I said it too soon, didn’t I?
“I love you, too.” she finally said, a small smile on her face as she went in to kiss me again.
When we finally came up for air, she dug her cell phone from her back pocket and took a picture of the two of us. Taking pictures is one of her things and I love it.
I call bullshit on that “time heals all wounds” thing. It’s been two months and it hurts more, not less. I have a new found tolerance for Jack Daniels, which is annoying ‘cause shit’s $10 a shot. Everything hurts a tiny bit less when I'm drunk though, even if I have to drink more. Garret won’t even look at me anymore, let alone talk to me. He just... shut down after the hotel room and a selfish part of me wonders how he could go from big gesture to… nothing so quickly. Then I start wondering if he really loved me as much as I thought he did, and that leads to the shots and basically living at the local bar so I don’t have to think about that anymore. In true band dad fashion, Lake’s been getting on me for it, and I’ve told him he needs to shove it.
My stomach rumbled insistently and I rolled my hung over ass off the couch, nearly tripping on the blanket I was using while doing it. I looked through the shelves Lake had cleared out for me: nothing. I opened the refrigerator. Also nothing. Apparently I forgot to buy groceries. How did I forget to buy groceries? I dragged my hands over my face, annoyed with myself. I called up my lock screen for the time: 11 a.m. The only bad thing about living with Lake is that he lives in the boonies and everything is 45 minutes away. I sighed. Guess I should go get changed so I don’t starve. I grabbed my car keys off the coffee table and, as they clinked against each other, I winced. I felt like a teenager slinking in hours after curfew as Lake poked his head out of his room and looked at me with the sternest dad expression on his face.
“Relax, dad, I’m just going to get groceries.” I rolled my eyes as I looked for my wallet, which was on top of the TV speakers for some reason.
He glared at me and said, “you know how much I hate that.” before disappearing back behind the wooden door.
Garret and me used to jokingly call him that to mess with him until we found out he really actually did hate it.
***
I was really getting into “Synthetic Sympathy”, one of my new favorite songs, when I noticed a black car tailgating me. I hate when people do this and it always pisses me off ‘cause seriously, what do they hope to accomplish? I’m doing well over the speed limit myself. I flipped him off, trying to get him to move his impatient ass over. Nothing doing. An exit sign flashed by me and he was still bearing down on my bumper. He finally changed lanes but only to speed up and stay just a nose ahead of me, like we were in some sort of poor man’s Fast and the Furious.
Whenever I’m feeling as messed up as I am right now, I have the urge to “race” people like this and right now this is too tempting. I turned “Synthetic Sympathy” up more to try and distract myself.
Ten minutes passed. Another tailgater. What is it, asshole day? Enough of this. I flipped him off and we did the same poor man’s Fast and Furious dance as I had with the first car. This time, however, I pressed the accelerator and veered into his lane to cut him off, as I’d done many times before to show asshole drivers who’s boss. I must have miscalculated the distance he was in front of me, though, because I heard a thunk! and suddenly my car was spinning across the four lane highway. Shit. Instinct must have taken over because another minute later, my car had stopped under an exit sign. When I looked around, I realized I was alone and that the guy whose car I hit must have sped off. My car somehow only had minimal damage and I thanked Hermes for that. I also seemed fine, miraculously, other than my heart beating a million miles a minute. That was too close. I need to splash water on my face or something. I looked up at the exit sign for gas stations, of which there were two. I picked the first one my eyes landed on and tried to prepare myself to get back in the car and drive there.
***
I walked quickly to the bathroom when I got to the gas station, not bothering to look at the cashier and hoping the bathroom didn’t require a key. I splashed the freezing water on my face, dried it, and leaned against the wall, closing my eyes. I wrapped my arms around my waist and found myself wishing Garret was there to hold me and tell me everything would be OK. I took deep breaths in through my nose and out through my mouth, trying not to break down. I didn’t need to be thinking about him, especially right now, and I was just so. tired. of crying over him and what happened.
When I was satisfied that that wouldn’t happen, I came out of the bathroom. I wandered around the snack aisle, hungrier and hangrier, really, than ever. I picked up one of those .50 cent packages of honey-roasted peanuts and a canned double shot espresso drink, put the two things down on the counter, and reached for my wallet. When I looked up to pay the cashier, I had to take another deep breath. I would have had to have been blind not to notice how gorgeous she was: long, straight black hair, dark green eyes, fit, seemed 19, like me, if not 20, and had the warmest smile I’d seen in months.
“You OK, hun?” she asked, concerned.
I shook my head, realizing I must have been staring like a creep, mouth hanging open and all.
“Sorry. Long day.” I said, sticking my debit card in the machine.
She looked at me sympathetically, “I know the feeling.”
I looked at the clock behind her head: noon.
“How long you been on shift?” I said.
“Since 5. I can’t wait to go home. I keep telling myself I only have another hour.”
I took my debit card out and put it back in my wallet.
“Oof. Just thinking of waking up at that time hurts.”
She laughed a melodic laugh that I could listen to for hours. I’m in trouble.
“What do you do?” she asked, the warm smile on her face.
I hoped she didn’t see me wince as Garret’s stupid guitar playing self flashed across my brain.
“I’m in a band called Rare Tuna Cheerleaders.”
She laughed that gorgeous laugh again, “great name.” she paused and said, “wanna get lunch and commiserate about our miserable existences when I get off?” she said half-jokingly.
“Hell yeah. What’s your number?” I said, getting out my phone.
Maybe today won’t be so bad after all.
***
I clicked my cell phone display on, saw that I was 15 minutes early, and, for once, cursed my early-is-on-time-on-time-is-late nature. Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I’d forgotten I was wearing my faded red laundry day shirt and panicked. I hit the button that opened my trunk, praying I had even one clean extra shirt in there. Nothing. Damn. I went back around to search through my front and back seats. Nothing seems to be the theme of the day. No food, no clothes other than this ugly-ass stretched out thing. I did find a small bottle of wrinkle releaser under the driver’s seat. Probably got it as a sample or something last time I went shopping and I just hoped it smelled better than this shirt, which wouldn’t be hard. I closed my eyes, sprayed it, and was relieved that it actually did smell good. I glanced in the mirror and saw that my curls were frizzier than I liked but it wasn’t like I could do anything about that now. I threw the now unnecessary peanuts in the passenger seat and chugged the double shot espresso.
***
“So what’s your sad story?” she said, sticking her spoon into the whipped cream on the chocolate custard milkshake she’d ordered.
I laughed, again, surprised by her bluntness, “you get right to the point, don’t you?”
“Well yeah. Don’t see the point in wasting time.” she smiled, “I’ll go first if you want, though I guess it’s not that sad.”
I nodded and smiled encouragingly for her to go ahead.
“So… my parents didn’t take me not wanting to go into the family grocery business too well and definitely don’t approve of me wanting to go to nursing school… which I’m really hoping financial aid or some miracle scholarship pays for. Which is also why the gas station. It sucks, but it pays the bills and it’s pretty much the only job that’ll work around a full time class schedule.”
She had one of those welcoming faces you want to tell everything to and I found myself desperately wanting to. Wanting to be understood by such a beautiful creature… even if it meant talking about him. So I started the long story. When I finished, she had a look of genuine concern, not pity, on her face which only made me like her more.
“No wonder you looked like such a zombie when you came in. That’s really rough.”
I was relieved her tone matched her face. She put her hand over mine and I started to pull it away until I realized two things: 1) I liked how small and warm her hands were compared to mine. 2) I’d been single for two months now and it wasn’t like Garret was trying to get me back anymore, as much as that hurt. I wish I knew why he just… stopped but OK, you know what, I need to focus.
“Was it OK that I did that?” she asked, concerned.
Dammit, I was hoping she didn’t notice. I really hope I didn’t just screw this up.
“Definitely. It’s just new… in a good way.” I said quickly.
I breathed a sigh of relief when she smiled, left her hand where it was, and asked, “what’s your favorite thing to do outside of music?”
“Don’t laugh, but I really love doing crosswords.”
“All-important question: does Google help you with your crossword answers?” she teased, smirking.
“Are you trying to impugn my honor by saying that I cheat?” I said, fake offended.
She raised an eyebrow.
“Of course not! That takes all the fun out of it.” I said, indignant.
Her smirk broke to an amused smile.
“What do you like to do?” I asked, leaning forward and cupping my chin with my hand.
Her eyes lit up as she said, “Origami. It really chills me out when work and classes get to be too much. I finally got through the swan, which is supposed to be one of the hardest designs, so I’m looking into starting the dragon, which is supposed to be even harder. I’m also obsessed with all things caffeinated, so I make it my mission to find the best coffee and tea around me.”
“What would you recommend around here?” I said, looking into those sparkling dark green eyes.
“Maddie’s. Best cappuccinos and boba tea, which is a feat. Fresh boba tea is so hard to find. If you’re into it, maybe we could go next Friday?”
“I have no idea what boba tea is, but I’d definitely be interested in finding out.”
“Awesome.” she said, smiling as she stuck a French fry in her mouth.
I matched her smile as I sucked up some of my own custard milkshake. Is this what moving on feels like? Or the beginnings of it anyway?
***
Sloane and me were relaxing after our five-month anniversary dinner by watching one of her favorite movies, “Zoolander”. I watched her face as she quoted the next line of the scene and I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much happiness radiating from one person’s face. I smiled as she giggled after doing it on one of the punch lines.
I leaned in and kissed her cheek and when she turned, I said, “you’re adorable when you quote movies.”
She put a finger under my chin and kissed me on the lips, which evolved into us making out on her tiny couch.
“God, I love you.” I heard myself say.
Shit. Didn’t mean to say it like that. She stopped kissing me and looked into my eyes, hers serious. She didn’t say anything for a full second. I said it too soon, didn’t I?
“I love you, too.” she finally said, a small smile on her face as she went in to kiss me again.
When we finally came up for air, she dug her cell phone from her back pocket and took a picture of the two of us. Taking pictures is one of her things and I love it.