Status: Work in progress
Shake
Chapter 4
Garret
I woke with a start in an unfamiliar bedroom, sunlight filtering in under the curtains, breathing hard for a few seconds. I tried to remember what freaked me out so much, but came up with nothing. I lay back down and turned on my side to go back to sleep. A shirtless, brown haired guy with a six-pack was asleep next to me and I wanted to throw up... or was that the hang over talking? I took a deep breath as I tried to remember his name. Gene? Gary? Joe? Alex? Fuck. I definitely remembered how warm his hands had felt on me last night though. As I looked around the dark room, I wished I didn't feel so hollow. That was the exact opposite reason I went to the club last night. I wanted to feel good for once. For more than a few hours.
What makes it all worse is that today's Harper's birthday. I always made a big deal of it since he was usually alone for it growing up. His parents weren’t big believers in birthday parties and he didn’t have a lot of friends until high school. This year’s the first one I won’t be spending with him and it really doesn’t help me stop thinking about or missing him.
My phone was on the floor for some reason and I reached over and grabbed it to check the time. Noon? Fuck, I'm late. Lake and me were gonna write some stuff today and---fuck where are my pants? I scanned the room, seeing the green shirt I wore last night by the door, boxers by the bed. I carefully slid out of the bed, texted Lake, and put the boxers back on. I finally found my jeans crumpled up by my shirt, threw them both on, and snuck out Gene/Gary/Joe/Alex’s front door as silently as possible.
***
I set my guitar in its stand in the corner of Lake’s basement and flopped onto the couch with my phone. We’d gotten three songs finished and were taking a break before starting a fourth. I got bored of scrolling through my IG [Instagram] in about two seconds and before I knew it, I found myself stalking Harper’s feed. It was the last thing I should have been doing, but that’s never stopped me before. The first thing I saw was a picture of a thin woman with long, dark hair and green eyes kissing him on the cheek, one arm curled around his neck. There was no space between them on a beige couch I didn’t recognize and it was dark in the room, like they’d been watching a movie. My eyes froze on the word “boyfriend” in the caption “best boyfriend ever!”
“Wait, who the fuck is this?” I said, turning my phone toward Lake.
He paused the round of “Super Smash Brothers” he was playing and looked at the picture. Panic flew across his face.
“What’re you doing on Harper’s Insta anyway?” his forehead creased.
“So you know her.”
Lake silently un-pausing the game was all the answer I needed.
I looked down at the faded fabric of his couch and asked the question I didn’t really want the answer to, “is she really Harper’s girlfriend?”
Lake looked down at his controller for a second before he paused the game again, “You didn’t expect him to wait forever for you to get your shit together, did you?”
I could have snapped all of my guitar strings with little effort then.
“Get my shit together? Nothing I could have done would have convinced him I fucked up and I was sorry. Nothing. What was I supposed to do?” I shoved a hand through my hair and saw my reflection in Lake’s mirror. My hair looked extra red under the fluorescent lights and I only now realized how long I’d let it get.
“Not just roll over and die, for one thing.” Lake said, eyes on me instead of his controller.
“I didn’t just roll over and die! I just know where I’m not wanted. I didn’t expect him to wait or anything but just… how did he move on so fast?” I said, playing with the hem of my shirt, debating saying the next thing on my mind so long it felt like a pot bubbling over, “And even if I were to try, it’s a little late now, isn’t it?”
“I think it’s worth a shot. I’ve always felt like he jumped into this thing with her too fast… not that I could ever tell him that.” Lake rolled his eyes.
“Do you really think he’d hear me out now?” I said, feeling a sliver of hope slither into my body with its warmth and promise of happiness.
I don’t trust it. All it’s ever done is bitten me in the ass when things inevitably fall apart and then the depression is there just waiting to rip me apart again, no matter how much I wish it or push it away and round and round we go. It’s a rollercoaster I’d really like to get off.
“Is he having a party tonight?” I asked, maybe too hopefully.
Lake hesitated before answering, “yeah.”
Hope surged through my body now, anxiety close behind it.
“Think I could ride over with you?”
“…That’s not exactly what I meant when I said do something, I meant like you both come over here or your place and finally work shit out. Not at a party with his girlfriend and 50 other people.”
“Please. If I don’t do this now, I won’t fucking be able to and I can’t lose him to this girl, OK?”
“Fine. We’re going early so we can avoid her then. She has class til 6.”
“Thank you.”
I fell back on the couch, trying to think of a way to not sound completely stupid in front of the love of my life. Ex-love of my life? Is that even a thing? Ugh.
I woke with a start in an unfamiliar bedroom, sunlight filtering in under the curtains, breathing hard for a few seconds. I tried to remember what freaked me out so much, but came up with nothing. I lay back down and turned on my side to go back to sleep. A shirtless, brown haired guy with a six-pack was asleep next to me and I wanted to throw up... or was that the hang over talking? I took a deep breath as I tried to remember his name. Gene? Gary? Joe? Alex? Fuck. I definitely remembered how warm his hands had felt on me last night though. As I looked around the dark room, I wished I didn't feel so hollow. That was the exact opposite reason I went to the club last night. I wanted to feel good for once. For more than a few hours.
What makes it all worse is that today's Harper's birthday. I always made a big deal of it since he was usually alone for it growing up. His parents weren’t big believers in birthday parties and he didn’t have a lot of friends until high school. This year’s the first one I won’t be spending with him and it really doesn’t help me stop thinking about or missing him.
My phone was on the floor for some reason and I reached over and grabbed it to check the time. Noon? Fuck, I'm late. Lake and me were gonna write some stuff today and---fuck where are my pants? I scanned the room, seeing the green shirt I wore last night by the door, boxers by the bed. I carefully slid out of the bed, texted Lake, and put the boxers back on. I finally found my jeans crumpled up by my shirt, threw them both on, and snuck out Gene/Gary/Joe/Alex’s front door as silently as possible.
***
I set my guitar in its stand in the corner of Lake’s basement and flopped onto the couch with my phone. We’d gotten three songs finished and were taking a break before starting a fourth. I got bored of scrolling through my IG [Instagram] in about two seconds and before I knew it, I found myself stalking Harper’s feed. It was the last thing I should have been doing, but that’s never stopped me before. The first thing I saw was a picture of a thin woman with long, dark hair and green eyes kissing him on the cheek, one arm curled around his neck. There was no space between them on a beige couch I didn’t recognize and it was dark in the room, like they’d been watching a movie. My eyes froze on the word “boyfriend” in the caption “best boyfriend ever!”
“Wait, who the fuck is this?” I said, turning my phone toward Lake.
He paused the round of “Super Smash Brothers” he was playing and looked at the picture. Panic flew across his face.
“What’re you doing on Harper’s Insta anyway?” his forehead creased.
“So you know her.”
Lake silently un-pausing the game was all the answer I needed.
I looked down at the faded fabric of his couch and asked the question I didn’t really want the answer to, “is she really Harper’s girlfriend?”
Lake looked down at his controller for a second before he paused the game again, “You didn’t expect him to wait forever for you to get your shit together, did you?”
I could have snapped all of my guitar strings with little effort then.
“Get my shit together? Nothing I could have done would have convinced him I fucked up and I was sorry. Nothing. What was I supposed to do?” I shoved a hand through my hair and saw my reflection in Lake’s mirror. My hair looked extra red under the fluorescent lights and I only now realized how long I’d let it get.
“Not just roll over and die, for one thing.” Lake said, eyes on me instead of his controller.
“I didn’t just roll over and die! I just know where I’m not wanted. I didn’t expect him to wait or anything but just… how did he move on so fast?” I said, playing with the hem of my shirt, debating saying the next thing on my mind so long it felt like a pot bubbling over, “And even if I were to try, it’s a little late now, isn’t it?”
“I think it’s worth a shot. I’ve always felt like he jumped into this thing with her too fast… not that I could ever tell him that.” Lake rolled his eyes.
“Do you really think he’d hear me out now?” I said, feeling a sliver of hope slither into my body with its warmth and promise of happiness.
I don’t trust it. All it’s ever done is bitten me in the ass when things inevitably fall apart and then the depression is there just waiting to rip me apart again, no matter how much I wish it or push it away and round and round we go. It’s a rollercoaster I’d really like to get off.
“Is he having a party tonight?” I asked, maybe too hopefully.
Lake hesitated before answering, “yeah.”
Hope surged through my body now, anxiety close behind it.
“Think I could ride over with you?”
“…That’s not exactly what I meant when I said do something, I meant like you both come over here or your place and finally work shit out. Not at a party with his girlfriend and 50 other people.”
“Please. If I don’t do this now, I won’t fucking be able to and I can’t lose him to this girl, OK?”
“Fine. We’re going early so we can avoid her then. She has class til 6.”
“Thank you.”
I fell back on the couch, trying to think of a way to not sound completely stupid in front of the love of my life. Ex-love of my life? Is that even a thing? Ugh.