Chances

After Zoey left for the night, I walked back into the house and sat down on the couch and took my shoes off, putting them at the end of the couch that I had been crashing on. I checked the time, wondering if I could go to sleep without anyone else popping in and out of the room to bother me. It was only nine-thirty, so I quickly gave up on that idea, instead picking up the remote for the T.V. and turning it on. After thirty minutes of terrible television, I turn the T.V. off and throw the remote onto another couch and get up, hunting for something else to do to keep my mind off of Zoey and Paulie together. I quickly give up on that and crash back onto the couch and lie down, deciding to just try and sleep through whatever noises pop up. I sleep for about twenty minutes before someone starts poking and prodding me. I rolled onto my side and looked up to see Ash.

"Why are you watching me sleep?" I asked, slightly creeped out.

"Don't flatter yourself," she responds, picking my legs up and throwing them off of the couch so she can sit down. "What's up? Why are you trying to go to sleep at nine forty?"

"I talked to Zoey. Asked her if she was happy, and she said she was."
"And?" She asked, leaning closer to me.

"And I'm just gonna try and be happy for her, I guess." I said, propping my feet up onto the table.
"I'm sorry. I really am," she said, putting her hand on my back. "I know that he's an asshole, but if she's happy, what're you going to do? It sucks, yeah, but that's life."
"Yeah, I know." I said, putting my head in my hands, rubbing my eyes. "Fuckin' figures," I muttered under my breath, pulling my feet off of the table.

"I know that you really don't want to anymore, but you really should quit smoking. It'd make all of us happy. Hell, I'd be happy if you cut back." Ash said, patting my back before getting up and walking back to the Isaac's bedroom. I stretched back onto the couch, looking at all the posters that were plastered on the walls. I reached into my pockets to pull everything out of them and tossed them onto the table, and reached over to pick up my phone to check for any messages before going to sleep.

I woke up to the vacuum running, and sat up on the couch, and rubbed my eyes, trying to see who was cleaning. I got up and folded the blanket I'd been using up and threw it onto the couch and stumbled to the bathroom to take a shower. After getting out of the shower, I saw Jared sitting on the couch, the vacuum sitting in a corner.

"Morning," he said over the noise of the T.V.. "Sorry about the noise, but I needed to vacuum."
"It's cool," I said, sitting down on the couch. "I didn't know you had today off."

"Yeah, I forgot to mention it yesterday. It's nice to be able to just chill for a day." He said, picking up the controller and turning on our X-Box. "How you doing, dude?"
"Been better." I said, pulling a cigarette out of the pack. "Found out that Zoey's already dating some asshole."
"Harsh," he replied. "Do you know which asshole she's dating?" I picked up my lighter off of the table and got up to go outside to have my first smoke of the day.

"Paulie," I said, lighting the cigarette in the kitchen.
"Wait, Paulie Talbot?" I heard him ask from inside.

"Yeah," I replied, sitting down on the top step of the cement stairs. For a guy that's had multiple leg surgeries, Jared moves incredibly fast.

"She's dating Paulie fucking Talbot?!" He screamed at me, scaring me to death.

"From what I heard from Ash, yeah." I manage to finally say.

"Paulie 'I nearly made my ex-girlfriend kill themselves and five minutes later was in bed with another girl' Talbot?"

"Yup." I said, the bitterness surprising even me. I took a long drag off of the cigarette and looked at Jared, who was literally shaking with what I assumed was rage. "Ummm... You okay?" I asked.

"That is NOT okay," he said.

"Yeah, no shit." I replied, finishing the cigarette off and tossing the butt into an ashtray.

"How in the hell did that happen?" He asked after a moment silence. "How did that prick get someone like that?"
"What in the hell do you think I've been trying to figure out?" I asked, laughing.

"You need to do something!" He yelled.

"What do you want me to do about this?" I asked, getting up to get another cigarette. "I'm not going to talk to Paulie, last time I ever saw him I got hurt! It's a sign from God not to be near this prick." I said, walking back inside.

"And how do you think this is going to end for her?" He yelled back, running into the house. "The last time that person was in a long term relationship, you know how it ended!"

He was right. Paulie Talbot was the biggest asshole I had ever met. He was violent, crude, and thought he was God's greatest gift to man. If he ever said that he was in a relationship, it meant that he was only screwing one girl. The man didn't want relationships, he just wanted an unlimited amount of booty calls. He claimed he fell in love once, but three weeks into the relationship, he was already cheating on the girl, Lisa. But that wasn't enough for Paulie, he wanted to set a record. So in the time that he had 'fallen in love', he was cheating on Lisa, while at the same time screwing five other girls. This guy, in my opinion, was trash. Lisa, after discovering what he was doing, attempted to kill herself by an overdose. Thankfully, someone found her in time to help. I don't know how this asshole still had friends.

"Well, what the hell can I do?" I asked, sitting down on the couch.

"Do something really romantic to show that she deserves a nice guy!" Jared said back, getting excited.

"What, pull a Cusack?" I asked, laughing. Just to clear up, this laugh isn't a ha-ha laugh, it's a laugh of desperation and exacerbation.

"Ummm... Something like that, yeah!" He said back, starting to pace around.

"Look, Jared, I appreciate this, but I don't think there's anything I can do! You know me, I'm not that kind of guy," I said. "That and Paulie would fucking kill me. Last time I heard, he had just bought a machete for some goddamn reason!"
"Is this the kind of girl that you'd be willing to be killed with a machete for?" Jared asked, stopping and looking at me.
"Yes." I said immediately. Jared just leaned on the wall and grinned at me.

"You're willing to risk getting cut into tiny bits and pieces by that piece of human trash for her?"
"Yes." I said again, standing up, my mind made up. I grabbed my wallet and keys off of the table and sprinted out of the apartment.

Zoey lives in a gated community, a plus from her parent's lucrative jobs. Since it was three o'clock in the afternoon, everyone was either in school or at work, so no cars were coming in or out. So I did what anyone would do in this situation: I climbed the fence, and promptly proceeded in falling on my ass on the way down. Not letting my hurt bottom stop me, I got up and ran down the street towards her house. I saw her white Ford parked in the driveway, and after a few deep breathes and a small prep talk, I walked to her front door and knocked. She opened the door before I knocked again.

"Hey," she said, smiling. "This is a pleasant surprise." Knowing that I'd loss steam or chicken out if I said anything else first, I blurted it out without thinking.

"Zoey, I love you."

Lies

I sat on the porch, staring out into space, attempting to not believe what I just heard. I looked at the pack of cigarettes on the ground, considering the pros and cons of starting again.

"You're kidding, right? This is some cruel joke you're pulling on me?" I asked.

"What? Why the hell would I do that? The last time I heard was that she was dating Paulie," she said, stubbing the cigarette out on her her heel before getting up and heading back inside. When she opened the door, I heard laughter, and caught the end of an anecdote from Zoey, which confirmed it. I stood up, and closed the door gently, not wanting anyone to look towards the door. Paulie, who was worse then Kyle when it came to women, was dating Zoey, a Czech girl that I was in love with. I sat for silence in three minutes before my phone rang.

"What?" I answered, not even checking the caller id.

"Okay, why in the hell won't you go to the club with us?" Kyle yelled, slurring over his words.

"Okay, why in the hell are you drinking?" I shot back, choosing to take it all out on Kyle.

"Bitch, don't start preaching to me! It's a Saturday night, and I am entitled to enjoy it however I want!"

"Just because it's Saturday doesn't mean that you can get wasted and fuck!" I yelled into my phone loudly.

"The hell it doesn't! I worked all week, what did you do?" He yelled back, matching my anger. "You have a hard week of sitting on your ass?"

"Fuck you!" I screamed into my phone.

"Hey, I'm going to call back in five minutes, and you better have your shit together when I do." He said, waiting to hang up the phone so I could hear this in the background: 'I don't know, he's just being a whiny bitch about something, I'll call him back later.'

By the time that I had shoved my phone into my pocket, someone from the next apartment popped their head out of their window.

"You okay?" He asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry," I muttered, looking down.

"It's cool dude. Everyone has bad days," he said, before disappearing back into his apartment. In order to seem productive, I grabbed the trash bag off of the porch and walked down the cement stairs and around the corner to the dumpster. I walked slowly back up the stairs, still calming down. By the time I got back up the stairs, Ash was sitting outside, smoking another cigarette. She held the pack out and I took one, shoving it into my mouth. I sat down on the top step, trying to avoid eye contact with her. We smoked the cigarettes in silence, and I didn't even notice when she walked back inside, leaving her pack next to me. I smoked the entire pack in about five minutes (Kyle had obviously decided not to call back) and ripped the pack up into tiny pieces. I stood up and walked back inside. Ash was the only sitting in the kitchen, washing the dishes. I sat down at the table.

"They went down the street to get dessert for everyone. They'll be back in five minutes." She said. "You okay? Christ, I didn't expect you to react like that."

"Yeah, I'm fine," I lied, picking up a magazine off of the ground and tossing it back on the table.

"Of course you're fine, that's why you're screaming at your phone." She said, turning the sink off.

"That was directed at another asshole," I said, getting up to help her dry the dishes.

"You've only known her for how long? A few weeks?" She said, handing me towel and a plate.

"It's not that, I'm used to being that one friend. It's who's she's dating," I said. "Paulie is a terrible, terrible person."

"Who you hang out with."

"I've only ever been around him when necessary or when Kyle brings him around. I don't do it for fun." I corrected her.

"Okay, I'm not denying that he's an asshole. I'm just saying that maybe he's nice to her," she said.

"Bullshit!" I yelled, shoving the plate into the cupboard.

"Hey, I don't care if you're pissed, but don't take your anger out on the plates!" She yelled.

"Sorry," I muttered, throwing the towel down, walking to the living room. "I'm getting a pack of smokes."

"Giving up on quitting?"

"Don't see the point now."

I took the backstairs out of the apartment to avoid bumping into everyone, and was halfway to the gas station when my phone rang. I fished it out of my pocket and looked at the caller id.

"What?" I said bitterly into the phone.

"Dude, have you calmed down yet?" Kyle asked, still slurring his words.

"If I say no, are you going to insult me and hang up again?"

"Well, if you weren't being such an asshole--"
"How was I being an asshole?" I said, cutting him off.

"You were all yelling at me!" He yelled back.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I should be more considerate when talking to drunk, belligerent assholes. My bad." I said. "I'm not going to that stupid club, so don't call me again to ask." I hung up the phone and walked to the gas station and back to the apartment in silence, attempting to enjoy the breeze and my smoke. I walked up the backstairs and sat down on the top step. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and got ready to pull the battery out when a voice spoke up from behind me.

"I thought you were quitting," Zoey asked from behind me. I jumped a little, and the cigarette fell out of my mouth.

"Jesus Christ, you scared me!" I yelled, turning around to look at her.

"Oh, sorry," she said, smiling at me. I crushed the cigarette beneath my heel.

"Yeah, I'm still working on quitting," I said, suddenly feeling guilty.

"Well, if you need or want any help quitting, you can always ask me." She said.

"Umm... Yeah, of course," I said. After a minute of silence, I broke the silence. "Hey, are you happy right now?"
"Happy with what?" She asked, confused.

"Just happy with the way your life is." I clarified. She was quiet for a minute, thinking about the question. After a while, she answered.

"I think I am, yeah." She smiled at me, her eyes lighting up with the smile. I somehow managed to hide how much I wanted to scream and smiled back at her. "How about you?" She asked, leaning closer to me. "Are you happy with the way your life is, right now?" She was so close to me, that I could smell her perfume, and could feel her breathing close to my neck. I fought back the urge to blurt out I love you and just smiled.

"Yeah, I'm happy." I lied.

Fall

It took another three weeks for my back to feel like I could move without it going out again. By the time I was up and walking again, fall had started. My summer had ended terribly, and Kyle was already calling me again, trying to get me to go out. Most of his calls always happened when I was trying to sleep, so I wouldn't call him back, hoping that he would either realize that I wouldn't be up at nine in the morning, or he would realize that I was pissed off at him for the back injuries (which I was blaming him for). When I did ever pick up the phone when he called me, the conversations would be about him being bored, or someone that he was trying to hook with this girl and needed my help. The only good thing about my situation was that I met Zoey, a friend of Jared's roommate. She was everything I could want in someone, and she was from the Czech Republic, which added a layer of mystery to her that I fell in love with. She was always over at the apartment (she could cook amazing food, which was a plus in a group of young males that were used to eating Top Ramen or Rice-a-Roni for lunch and dinner), and the two of us became good friends. Since it was a small apartment, I would eat outside on the porch (Jared had an apartment on the second story, so I always had a nice view of suburbia when I ate and smoked) to save room at their dinner table for them. I would hear them talk about their day, and I would pop in occasionally to say something or get something to drink before disappearing outside to finish my dinner.

"Why do you always eat outside?" Zoey asked me one night. She spoke with a light accent, which we all loved.

"To make sure there's enough room at the table for the important people of the apartment," I replied, putting my plate down on the ground and pulling out a cigarette.

"And to smoke?" She asked, smiling.

"Yeah, and to smoke," I said, lighting the cigarette. "I do enjoy smoking," I said.

"How much do you smoke?"

"Depends. Bad day, three packs a day. Good day, two." I said. "It sounds really terrible when you say it like that," I said.

"Well, it's a terrible habit," she said, picking up my plate and glass.

"Yeah, it is." I agreed.

"I think you should quit," she said, walking back in the apartment to do the dishes. I looked at the cigarette in my fingers, took one last drag off of it and stubbed it out and headed back inside.

I was still trying to ignore Kyle calls due to fear of my back going out again, but after a while, I caved. He called while I was cleaning up the apartment while everyone was at work, so I decided to talk to him and take a break and relax.

"Dude, how the hell have you been?" He asked.

"Recovering. How've you been?"

"Pretty fuckin' good, dude. Me and Stacey hooked up."

"Ummm... Good for you?" I hated it when he told me things like that, I never knew how to respond.

"It was pretty good dude, I'm not gonna lie," he said, sounding too proud of himself.

"Well, have fun with her?" I ventured.

"Oh, I will. We're going to this club tomorrow night, you should come!"
"No," I said firmly. "I don't do clubs or things like that."
"What? Why not?" He asked.

"I don't like crowds, I hate music they play at those shitty clubs, and if you're taking her to the one I'm thinking of, the people are fucking weird!"

"C'mon, please? I need a wingman! I could help hook you up with someone!"

"Find a different wingman!" I yelled back.

"Dude, I'm driving right now, but I'm gonna call back later and talk about this," he said.

I hung up the phone and tossed it onto the couch. The club in question was one that was a half hour drive into a different city. It was popular with the people in my age group due to the fact that you only had to be eighteen to get in. In a brilliant marketing move, the owners of the club would throw a night to celebrate goth\emo culture. What that meant was that they would play even shittier music, while people got to wear strange outfits. To some people, it was awesome, and that was okay. I, however, was not one of those people. Kyle wasn't either, but the man was dedicated to hooking up with as many women as possible, and if that meant doing something he didn't like, he would do it. In a force of habit, I looked for a pack of cigarettes, then realized that I was quitting. So I just turned on the T.V. and played a game to take my mind off of the fact that I was going to have to deal with a constant stream of pleading for me to go.

Jared got off of work first, and got home around four in the afternoon. I nodded at him, trying to focus on the game I was playing. He disappeared into his bedroom and changed, then popped back into the living room and sprawled out onto the other couch.

"Thanks for cleaning, dude." He said, pulling his laptop onto his chest and turning it on.

"Yup," I said, before going into a string of profanities as I got shot to death in my game.

"You do anything else today aside from clean?"
"I walked down to the store and bought some more food. I got stuff that Zoey can cook with, and got stuff we can just throw in the oven and stuff. There's also a milkshake in the fridge for you, and I got some more potatoes." I said, throwing the controller down, deciding not to play the game anymore.

"Sweet," he said. "Trade you." I reached over and handed him the controller and he gave me the laptop.

"What's the plan for tonight?" I asked.

"Uhhh... Zoey called, she's coming over in a bit, she's gonna cook, then Isaac is getting off of work early, and Ash is probably going to swing by for dinner too."

"Okay," I said.

"What do you think of Zoey?" Jared asked, after a minute of silence.

"She's nice. I like her," I said. "Like, I really like her."

"Go for it, dude. You two seem made for each other," he said before screaming at the game.

I shrugged and put the laptop down, and pulled my phone out of the couch. I looked at the messages and saw that I already had three from Kyle, all asking me if I had reconsidered the club offer. I deleted them, shoved the phone into my pocket, and got up to change. I threw my clothes in the large garbage bag that we used to take the clothes to the laundromat, and looked out to Jared.

"You want me to do laundry tomorrow?" I asked. "I only got three bucks on me right now."
"Yeah, if you could that'd be nice. I'll throw in a few bucks, and so will Isaac. Thanks, dude."
"Yup," I said, planting myself back onto the couch. "What time is Zoey coming over?"
"Soon, she just texted to say she was on her way."

Five minutes later, we heard footsteps come up the stairs and a knock on the door. I walked over to the door and opened it. She walked in, heading straight for the kitchen, and I closed and locked the door. We sat and talked, and soon Isaac and Ash were over. We ate, and while Zoey made dessert, I sat outside with Ash while she smoked.

"You want one?" She asked, holding the pack up to me.

"I quit," I said, stretching out on the patio furniture.

"Well, good for you," she said, sitting down. "Any reason why?"
"Zoey said I should, so I did."
"Cute," she said. "You know, you too would make a great couple."
"That's what Jared was saying," I said, looking at my phone.

"Too bad she's already in a relationship," she said, taking a long drag off of the cigarette.

"What? With who?" I asked.

"Ummm... Last time I heard, Paulie. Friend of Kyle." She said.

If the person you think is the love of your life isn't dating the biggest asshole in the world, you wouldn't understand.

Busking

The rain pours softly onto the roof. The leak that's five feet away from my head helps lull me to sleep, the constant drip-drip-drip mixed with the sound of the wind. The sounds of the city gets quieter as the bars and the want to be pubs close down and the drunks begin their seemingly long quest home to their beds. I try and get comfortable, but my feet stick out from under the too small blanket. I give up trying to fight it and curl into a small ball on
the old couch. I hear the argument from upstairs and try to ignore it and get to sleep, focus on the drip of the leak hitting the table. I finally give up and walk to the bathroom and open the medicine cabinet and take out the bottle of over-the-counter sleep aides and put two into my mouth and drink a glass of water. I walk back to my couch and look at the room. two couches,
a silver TV, two tables, one littered with beer bottles and old fast food bags, the second only with my pair of keys and wallet and the ever growing puddle, and the beat old up guitar case that leans near the door next to my jacket. I sit on the couch, curl into a ball and pull the too short blanket over myself. The argument grows louder for three seconds, then it stops. I
know that the only reason is that they don't want me thinking that anything is wrong, that everything is fine. I roll onto my side and look at the back of the couch, and go to sleep.

I wake up to being shaken. I look up into a pair of dull blue eyes. She's saying something, but she's talking so fast I can't understand her. She walks into the bathroom and I hear the shower start. I take this time to clean up the room. I’m on the third trip of throwing beer bottles and cans out when she's done in the shower.
"What're your plans for today?"
I tell her that I’m going downtown to play.
"Are you going to even look for a job?"
I ignore her as I get into the shower. The cold water hits my face. I take a quick shower and walk out of the bathroom. She's gone, off to work or school. I get dressed and put my shoes on. I pick up my guitar case and a bottle of water and lock the door.

I get downtown and stand at my usual spot. I open the case and make sure that the guitar isn't out of tune from drunken people playing with it. I start playing. Some people ignore me, some throw insults at me, some stand and listen, some throw
pennies and nickels into the case. One person though, watches me while I play all my songs. I open my bottle of water and take a drink when she talks to me.
"I like your music."
I tell her thank you.
"I’m not really in touch with the music scene," she says with a laugh. "were those all covers or did you write them?"
I tell her that I play my own music first then play three covers. We make small talk for three minutes. most of that is about me. I ask about her. I ask her what she does.
"Well, actually, I'm a painter."
I say something dumb in an attempt to be charming and we both laugh at me.
"Well, the gallery down the street is displaying one of my pieces, if you'd like to see it."
I tell her that I’d love to, and I pull out the loose change out of my case and put the guitar away.

During the walk we keep talking. I learn her name, I learn what she wants to do with her life, and I learn that she went to the school I went to. We make some more small talk as we walk into the small gallery. She points her painting out to me. I tell her that I like it.
"Really? I don't think that it's my best."
We make some more small talk. We talk about art and music as we walk back to the place where I was playing before.
"So I have to ask this, did we go to school together?"
I tell her that we had two classes together.
"Yeah, you looked familiar," she says laughing. "I have to go a class in a few minutes---"
She keeps talking but I don't listen to the words, I just look at her, take her features in. She hands me a piece of paper with a number scribbled on it.
"Call me?"
I smile and tell her that I will. As she starts to walk away, I start playing again. She looks back at me and smiles.

I walk back home, change jingling in my coat pocket, the paper with her number in my wallet. I unlock the door and walk into a full house. The three people sitting on the couch I'm using as a bed look up at me, too absorbed in their drinks to acknowledge me. The only person that does is the one walking out of the bathroom.
"How are you doing?"
I tell him good.
"Make any money out there?"
I shake my pocket.
"Good, we might need some of it."
I don't bother telling them that I need the money for myself. I walk upstairs, looking for a safe place to put my guitar even though I know that they'll come up and play with it. I turn and see that the dull blue eyes are looking at me. I walk back downstairs to a heated argument about something. I don't pay it any attention as I refill the bottle of water and put into the fridge for tomorrow. I walk out of the kitchen with a can of store brand soda and decide if I want to sit with the large group of people or run upstairs. when I walk out, I hear one of them shout my name.
"Why don't you play us a song?"
I tell him that I'm tired.
"So? Play us a song!"
I walk upstairs and get my guitar and walk downstairs. I play a cover of a bad song that they request before they get too distracted with the TV. I walk back upstairs and put my guitar away. I decide to sleep on the floor upstairs. I try to get comfortable as drunks be loud and belligerent.

I wake up before anyone else the next morning, so I get my stuff and walk downstairs. I put my guitar up near the door and start to clean all the beer cans and bottles, and put the bottles of the other liquor in the cabinets. I finish that and clean up the rest of the apartment and take a semi-long shower. I finish that and sit down, looking at the phone. I pull my wallet out
and look at the seven digit number. I play with the paper for a bit when I hear a voice come from the stairway.
"You going to call?"
I look up and see the dull blue eyes looking at me, looking more dull from the night of drinking. I ask her what she's talking about.
"Are you going to call the person who's phone number is on that piece of paper?"
I ask her how she knows what's on the paper.
"Well, you're eyeing the phone, and you just have that look."
I laugh as she walks past me and tosses the phone onto my lap and walks into the bathroom. I look at the number. What could go wrong? I dial the numbers and wait for her to pick up.
"Hello?"
I tell her who it is.
"Oh, hi! What's up?"
We make some more small talk for a few minutes before I ask her if she wants to go out for coffee or something.
"I have class till noon. How about lunch?"
I tell her that's fine and we make plans to go out to lunch. I get dressed and grab the bottle of water and pick up my guitar and my money and leave.

I play until noon, and then walk to the small diner where we planned to eat. I get a table and wait. She comes in five minutes later.
"Hey!"
I say hey back. We talk about her class, and we talk more about paintings.
"Are you going to school?"
I tell her that I didn't have enough money.
"Your parents didn't offer to help?"
I tell her that me and my parents don't really speak to each other. I tell her that the nicest thing they've done for me was buying me my guitar.
"What about scholarships?"
We talk about me not going to school for a few minutes.
"This is going to seem random, but did you go to the senior prom for our school?"
I tell her that I didn't in order to play a concert.
"You skipped out of your prom to play a concert? That's actually pretty cool," she says to me with a smile on her face.
I ask her why she asked.
"No reason, i was just curious."
I smile at her, and she smiles back.
"Have you played any other concert or anything?"
I tell her that I played a few before I left my home.
"You left home? Where are you staying?"
I tell her that I'm crashing at a friend's apartment.
"That was nice of him. So what are your plans? Keep being a street musician?"
I tell her what I want. She smiles at me.
"I think that everyone wants that in life."
I say something dumb, and we both laugh.
"This is really nice."
I tell her it is. We talk about high school and change.
We stay at the diner until she gets a call from someone. When she hangs up, she looks at me.
"That was my friend, I totally forgot that I made plans with her for tonight."
I ask her what they plan on doing.
"Well, I think she wanted to go out to dinner at that new cafe down the street," she says with a laugh. "but I think that i'm full from this. Do you have any plans?"
I tell her that I don't.
"Well... what're you doing later this weekend?"
I tell her nothing.
"Would you like to maybe hang out some more?"
I smile as I tell her I would. She gets up to leave and as she's walking out, she looks back at me and gives me a warm smile.

I walk back home. No one is drinking. It's just the two of them, sitting together on one of the couches, watching a movie.
"How was your day?"
I tell them that it was fantastic.
"Yeah?"
I tell them that I'm going on a date on the weekend, and they smile at each other.
"Looks like things are finally going your way, eh?"
I smile and say yeah. The rest of the night is spent with us talking. They go to sleep and I curl into a ball onto the couch and fall asleep, her smile in my dreams.

My Job As The D.L.S.

After spending weeks lying in bed due to the injuries that I had gotten after falling through the roof, I was still content on being alone, reading and listening to music. But after going on five weeks of not seeing me, my friends had other ideas. I started to ignore my phone calls and texts, so my friends started to do something rare: actually coming to my house to talk to me. Kyle, not surprisingly, was the first to come over.

"Dude. I'm bored," he said, sitting on the edge of my bed.

"So?" I asked, grabbing a book from the large stack of books that was near my bed. Kyle looked at the pile, and then at the pile that was near my closet.

"The hell is that pile?"

"Finished ones," I said, lighting a cigarette with my free hand (even crippling pain wouldn't stop me from doing this).

"Well, I'm bored. So we should do something!" He said, standing up from my bed, as if to emphasize how serious he was.

"Like what? Last plan you had, I fell through a roof and had barbed wire go through my foot. It'd be pretty hard to top that." I said, starting the book.

"Well, no..." He mumbled. "But Mark has his house to himself for two weeks starting tonight!"

"So?" I asked, only half paying attention.

"So? So we should go, dude!" He said, sitting back down on my bed. I put the book down and stubbed the cigarette out in the overfilled ashtray.

"My back is hurt. Are you expecting me to lie on his couch while you do God-knows-what?"

"Well... if you don't mind," he said. I looked up at him.

"You're serious."

"Yeah."

"Fine," I said, picking up my book and starting to read again.

Shortly after that, Kyle left to get ready, so I pulled myself out of bed and took a quick shower, said 'meh' to shaving, got dressed, grabbed my book and a couple packs of cigarettes, and almost forgot my cell phone due to me not using it at all during my weeks of bed rest. I turned it on to see that I had a staggering amount of text messages, and at least thirty voicemails. I shrugged it off and threw my phone into my pocket and walked outside to see Mark's car waiting for me. The passenger's door flew open, and I heard Mark yell my name.

"Dude! How's the back?" He yelled over the music.

"Hurts," I said to him as I climbed into his car. I looked in the back to see the Stepsister's. They instantly started to giggle at me, so I didn't talk to any of them for the ride to his house.

"So what are the plans for this party?" I asked, lighting up another cigarette.

"Well, we're getting some booze, and we're just gonna live it up!"

Let me explain. Mark is obsessed with the concept of living life as a reckless teenager. I was okay with it, except that he essentially preached this message. To clarify anything: to Mark, living life as a 'reckless teenager' means these things: drinking every chance you get, sleeping with as many people as you can, and doing whatever you felt like. It was something that I got used to, and other people were drawn to Mark. But that was probably because of his ability to always provide alcohol for everyone. This is were me and Mark differ. I don't drink. It's something that I've never really caught the fun of, the whole getting tired, sleeping, then vomiting your stomach up in the morning. It was just something that I wanted to live without. Because of this, I had been called the 'Designated Life Saver', or D.L.S.

"Dude, don't get too out of hand," I said to Mark as we pulled in front of his house. "My back still really hurts, and I don't want to hurt anymore having to make sure that you don't fucking die."

"Okay, I promise that we won't get too out of hand, mommy." He said with a laugh. The Stepsister's started to cackle. I shrugged, walked inside the house, found the best couch in the house and claimed it. I found an ashtray, so I lit up and started to read. All of the people that were coming were starting to trickle in. I knew some of them, but these were all of Mark's friends that he had met through Wendy, his girlfriend. People said hi and went on their merry way, but a few people decided to stick around the couch and bug me.

"Are you reading at a party?" One asked.

"Yes, yes I am." I said, not even looking up from the book.

"Why?"

"Cause I don't drink," I replied, putting the cigarette into the ashtray.

"Then why are you here?" One said, laughing.

"I'm crashing your little party by reading a book. That's why I'm here." I said, putting another cigarette in my mouth.

"What a fuckin' loser," one of them said while laughing.

"I have a fun idea," I said, putting the book on my chest.

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"You go outside, or go get a drink, and I don't mistake you for an ashtray. It's my favorite party game," I said, picking the book back up. Strangely enough, no one else bothered me while I was reading my book.

Later on, I had relocated to the backyard, on the swinging bench near the pool. There was a light that was really close, and it was a good night outside. I had already gone through two packs, so I was attempting to conserve my last pack. I heard someone clear their throat, so I put the book on my chest and looked up. It was the one girl that Kyle had told me he was going to (in his words) nail the night of me falling through.

"Hey," she said, looking at me.

"Hi," I said back. The plan of trying to conserve cigarettes was gone.

"How's your back?" She asked. If this was her being sincere, it was depressing.

"It still hurts. That's why I'm laying here." I said, pointing to the book.

"Well... do you want a drink?" She asked.

"Uhh... A water or something? Something non-alcoholic would be nice," I said.

"You should drink with us!" She said.

"Did Kyle put you up to this?" I asked, getting annoyed at this girl trying to get me drunk.

"Ummm..."

"Go away, please." I picked the book back up and literally ripped open my last pack.

I finished the book about the time they were getting in the pool to skinny dip. Mark walked over to me in his boxers to try one last time to get me to drink and join in the fun.

"C'mon, you could hook up with someone here!"

"I don't want to 'hook up' with anyone! And I don't want to skinny dip!" I was already feeling self conscious, all of the men here were in fantastic shape and tan, and I was skinny and pale.

"You sure? One shot, please? Just one shot." He begged.

"No," I was about ready to hit him. "Now shouldn't you be naked in your pool or something?"

"Fine, be that way." He said as he ran and dived into his pool. I walked into the pool area and sat down in one of the chairs to enjoy one of my last cigarettes for the night. I looked at the Stacey girl walking in the pool, and leaned back, trying to figure out why I was feeling anxious. I started to rack my brain for a possible reason, and closed my eyes, enjoying the cigarette. I was halfway done with it when I remembered a trip to the river that I took with Kyle and the Stepsister's. My irrational fear of large bodies of water kept me out of the water, and the Stacey girl had told me that she was never a really strong swimmer.

I have to say, for a smoker with a bad back, I moved pretty damn fast.

"Hey, get Stacey out of the water!" I yelled. But everyone was too drunk or just ignoring me, thinking that I was just messing with them. I tossed my cigarette onto the ground and did what I had to do. Trying to think of where she would be in the pool, I dived in. My back hurt as badly as it did when I landed on the pile of wood and whatever broke my fall, but I ignored it. In a stroke of extremely good luck for me, I saw right near a wall by the diving board, trying her hardest to stay above water. I got to her by the time she did finally go under, so I was able to grab her arm and pull her up. I told her to grab the diving board, which she did, while I managed to pull myself out of the pool and pull her up. She sat on the diving board, gasping for air, while I was on my back, trying not to cry from how much pain I was in. She managed to gasp out a 'thank you' and moved off of the diving board, and sat next to me.

"Are you okay?" She asked, and this time she actually sounded concerned. I moved my hands from my eyes and patted my soaked jeans. I didn't yank anything out of them before I jumped in, so my wallet, keys, phone and cigarettes were drenched. I didn't say anything, but I attempted to get off of the ground. That resulted in me actually crying out in pain. The most amazing part of this is that despite seeing me jump in, pull a girl out and scream in pain, everyone else seemed to be oblivious.

"Help me into the guest bedroom," I managed to say despite the pain. She helped me up and I limped into the house. As soon as we were in the guest bedroom, I crumpled onto the bed, lying on my stomach, muttering to myself. I heard her walk out and I heard her walk back in, putting a bottle of water on the nightstand.

"Umm... Thanks for saving my life." She said, kissing the part of my forehead she could find and walking out. I muttered a thank you, but it was muffled by the fact my face was in the bed. I ended up falling asleep for a couple of hours until I felt someone shoving me.

"Dude! It's only 12, why are you in bed?" Kyle was asking. He smelled disgusting, like vodka and chlorine mixed into one. I nearly threw up in the bed. I moved my head so I could speak clearly.

"Well, I didn't think you could do it, dude. You have one-upped yourself."

"Huh? What're you talking about?"

"I just fucked up my back. Again. And ruined my last pack of cigarettes. And my cell phone. All because you convinced me to come to this fucking party," I said, moving my head away from him. He wasn't too drunk that he couldn't not tell that I was pissed off at him.

"Shit. Sorry, dude."

"Sorry?! You should be glad I can't move right now, or I'd kick your ass!" I screamed at him.

"I'm just gonna leave, and come back when you've calmed down a bit, okay dude? You sure you don't want a drink? Take that edge off?" He asked. I don't know how I managed it, but I threw something at him before he left the room.

I was able to move in the morning, so I got out of the bed and walked into the bathroom. Mark was lying next to the toilet. He looked up at me.

"Kyle told me about the back. I'm so, so, sorry dude. Things did get a little out of hand, eh?"

"You convinced the skinniest girl here to essentially drink an entire bottle of Jager, then convinced her to go skinny dipping, despite the fact that even when she's sober, she can't swim. Out of hand is an understatement, my friend. Now either close your eyes or leave, cause I gotta pee." With a moan, he rolled to look away while I went to the bathroom. "Anyway. I'm leaving dude, nice to see you."

"See ya," he said before sticking his head in the toilet to vomit. I got outside as soon as my ride was pulling up. Somehow, I had managed to grab a phone and call one of my oldest friends, Jared for an immediate rescue. I got into the passenger's side and thanked him.

"Hey, no problem, bro. You okay?" He asked.

"Back just really hurts," I said.

"You want to crash at my place for a while?" He asked. He had a prescription to Vicodin for his own injuries, and I needed something stronger then Advil.

"Yeah..." I paused. "Can you get me some smokes?"

"Yup," he said, laughing.

"This has been a shitty summer, man." He just shrugged and drove.

On the one, microscopic good part of this was that this was the first time that I met Zoey.

Advenutre in Falling and Pain

After the whole debacle with Tommy, I needed a break from all the things that I then had to deal with (my friends apparently don't like to keep secrets, and when I told Kyle about the Tommy and the girl, he then told his friends, and word spread like wildfire). So I decided that the next time I would actually go out of my house, it would be for something fun. So when Kyle told me about an abandoned two story house he had found, I was ecstatic to go. I left this up to Kyle to plan the whole thing (mistake one of this adventure).

"Well, who do you want to go?" He asked.

"I don't care, dude. Just plan everything. I mean, what's the worst that could go wrong?" I replied, sticking a cigarette in my mouth (the habit was turning into an addiction, but I didn't really care at this point). He called up a bunch of people, telling them to meet them at his house. In all honesty, I wasn't expecting this big of a group, but I didn't really care. It seemed like it would be a good night, full of friends and a random adventure to somewhere cool. We all piled into cars, filling them to the max, and we set off. The car me and Kyle were in led the way (since he knew the way there), and it had three girls I would later to refer to as the 'Stepsister's' because they reminded me of Cinderella every time I saw them. They didn't really like me, but I always had cigarettes on me, and that made me tolerable. Kyle had (to my knowledge) slept with two of them, and a conversation we had while we were filling up his tank of gas lead me to his real goal of the night.

"Dude, I'm gonna nail Stacey tonight," he said, leaning on his car while he filled it. I looked at him, then the three girls inside, buying something to eat.

"Which one is Stacey?" I asked. I didn't like them enough to know them by their actual names.

"She's the one with the dark-ish hair, with the blonde highlights," he said, shaking the last little drops of gas from the nozzle.

"Oh," I said uninterestedly. The three walk out, all laughing, eating some kind of pastry they just bought from the gas station. We all got into the car and pulled out onto the road.

We got to the house around 11:30 pm. We got there first, so the first ten minutes was spent with Kyle hitting on Stacey in front of the other three. I chose to wait on the other side of the car, and finished off the first pack that I brought with me. The rest of the cars parked, and everyone piled out into the street.

"Alright, everyone ready to go?" Kyle asked, throwing his cigarette into the gutter.

"I think you're full of it, Kyle." Paul said, folding his arms. Paul was a prick, but he had known Kyle longer then I had so he always tagged along with us.

"Well, everyone get ready and follow me," he said, pulling a flashlight from his car. He took the lead, and we all followed him.

"Dude, it's safe to be out here?" I heard someone ask from the back.

"Yeah, sure, it's plenty safe!" Kyle yelled back. We walked for about fifteen minutes, much to the complaint of the women who said that he didn't mention the long walk.

When we got to the house, it looked like a horror movie waiting to happen. The house was dilapidated, and all the windows were broken out. That and it was a full moon, and the moon was directly over the house. I was waiting for a horde of zombies or the Wolfman to come and kill us. Kyle walked to the front of the house and run up to the front door.

"Let's go guys. It's better inside." All of the guys walked up to the front door, trying to prove how manly they were. The girls walked up slowly, as if the cement steps could possibly break as they stepped on it. Their was no door, so Kyle shined a light in the doorway to show us what it looked like. The moonlight was casting a faint light in it, so the flashlight was really needed.
"It's all good guys, go ahead and explore. Plenty safe," Kyle assured us as we walked into the house with caution. Almost all of the girls stayed downstairs, except for Stacey, who followed me upstairs for some reason.

"Hey, let's check out this room," she said. I looked into the room, which seemed safe. So I walked into the room. I was able to get to the other side of the room, but as soon as I got to the middle of the room, the floor creaked and gave away. I don't know which was louder, everything breaking or Stacey screaming as I fell through the floor. The good thing about her scream was that it got people to run up, and as soon as Kyle noticed what was wrong, he ran downstairs to the room that I had landed in.

Something broke my fall somewhat (I couldn't tell what, there was too much crap that I was lying on to tell), and I was lying on my back. I tried to roll over, but pain shot through my back and in the back of my head.
"Dude, holy SHIT!" I heard Kyle yell. "Are you okay, dude?" I grunted and managed to sit up, despite the pain.

"I'm going to go to the car." With that, I set off to the car, walking slowly. Everyone was downstairs, looking at me. I got outside the door and put a cigarette into my mouth, still moving slowly, not wanting to hurt myself anymore. I was able to limp halfway to the car before a sharp pain went through my foot. I don't know why I didn't yell in pain or anything, but with a calm that surprised even me, I pulled my foot up. Along with it came a line of barbed wire that had stuck itself inside of my foot. I reached down and with a quick pull, I yanked it out of my foot. I limped the rest of the way to the car, sat down under a street light and pulled off my shoe. I looked inside, saw some blood. I pulled off my sock, and saw more blood. I pulled my foot onto my lap and looked at the bottom of it to see how bad my foot was. The hole that the barbed wire had put in my foot was bleeding at a steady rate, so I did what anyone would do in my position. I wrapped my foot in my sock and smoked a whole pack of cigarettes in fifteen minutes. By the time I had finished my last one, the group was back, talking. Kyle looked at me, looked at my foot, and looked back to the group.

"What happened to your foot?" He asked.

"Barbed wire." I said. "Hey, Kyle?"
"What's up dude?"
"Can you help me up and into the car?" I probably could've gotten up myself, but I didn't want to risk hurting myself anymore tonight. He helped me into the car and the three girls got into the back and looked at me.

"Do you want to go to the hospital or something?" One of them asked. I shook my head no and sat in silence for the rest of the ride. When we pulled in front of my house, I slowly got out of the car and walked into my house and into my room.

I stayed in bed for about three weeks due to the fact that my back was in excruciating pain. I didn't want to really talk to anyone, so the majority of my time was spent reading or watching movies. It was around this time the concept of a vacation began to cross my mind. I pushed it to the back of my mind as the ultimate back up plan, and that I wouldn't have to use it because after this, my summer and my life could only go uphill, right?

Yeah, right.

Going Past the Breaking Point

By this time, word of my ability to 'forgive and forget' had become the thing of legend, and would come up at least three times in one day if I hung out with a group of people. I would just laugh and wave it off, and try to return the conversation to something else. The Mexican restaurant story had somehow spread like wildfire, though, and people wanted to begin to test to see if I had a breaking point, and if they could reach it. I don't think they had a back up plan in case going past my breaking point would result in loss of life and limb, but hey. Almost everyday, something would happen, or someone would do something to try to push me over that edge so they could start a conversation with "I WON!" (at this time, there was a large sum of money to go to whoever got me to the breaking point). I had my ipod stolen three times by the same person, someone told a girl that I was thisclose to dating that I was actually a sexual deviant who liked to dress up in women's under while listening to Goodbye Horses while touching myself (which actually backfired on them, because she for some reason thought that was funny and wanted to see it, although it did send up a red flag in our almost relationship). But still I just laughed these off and went about my life. What could I say? I had endured worst things in my life then these, so I was used to this kind of thing.

I was still maintaining the reputation that I had in high school about being able to help everyone, so I encouraged my friends that were younger then me to feel free and call or text me if they ever needed help with anything. So almost everyday, I had a message on my phone and a problem I could deal with and fix. They ran the normal course for high schoolers, so it was all easy for me to deal with. Most of them just needed me to nudge them in the right direction or say something encouraging and positive and they'd manage just fine. They'd call and cry their stories and problems to me, and I would sit in my boxers and a Mario t-shirt eating a bowl of Lucky Charms cereal or be making a sandwich, and help them out. In hindsight, making this policy did have it's downsides, especially when breakups came around, or people decided that they just didn't want to be friends anymore, which forced me to either play favorites, play both sides, or just say 'fuck it' and tell them to sink or swim without me.

Karma, never being nice to me, decided that this act of me trying my hardest to be nice was what would get me to my breaking point. It happened on a nice, fall day while I was sitting outside reading and smoking (I picked the habit back up two weeks after Claire dumped me). It's a call that most men don't like to get, mainly because you can't understand a goddamn word that's being said: it was the crying girl call.

"Hello?" I said as I picked up the phone, not ready for what was waiting on the other end.

"He*SOB*he*SOB*he's an asshole!" She cried into the phone.

"Wait, what? Who's an asshole?" I closed my book to try and focus on the conversation, trying to get past the sobbing to hear the problem.

"He*SOB*for*SOB*..."

"Hey, why don't I meet you somewhere for lunch?" I ventured. I could understand her better in person then over the phone, and I could probably get her to stop crying long enough to actually tell me what was wrong, and who was an asshole. "Where do you want to go?" I asked, stubbing the cigarette out on the bottom of my shoes. We agreed on a place, a time, and I set out to meet her there.

I got to the diner before she did, and got our table. The girl, Caroline, and I had dated for three months in my last year of high school, so I always made sure to actually invest time to make sure she was okay. She was wearing a pair of knock off Ray-Ban sunglasses, and I knew what that meant. One time during our relationship, she had donned the same pair of sunglasses when her beloved pet bird had died, so I was able to tell how bad she was feeling. I offered her a smile and gave her a big hug before she sat down in our little booth. She had managed to compose herself and articulate one sentence as she sat down.

"Tommy is an asshole." She said, taking off her sunglasses and putting them on the table.

"How is Tommy an asshole?" I asked, trying not to sound to surprised. Tommy and I knew each other, but that didn't mean that we liked each other. We were nice to each other when it benefited us, but for the main part, I thought he was a prick and he thought I was pompous.

"He broke up with me," she said, trying not to break down in tears again.

"What? Why? You two were so..." I hunted for the words that didn't involve wrong or unholy abomonation from the very depths of hell sent by Satan 'cos he was bored one night. "Happy looking," I eventually managed to say.

"I thought that too," she said, playing with her sunglasses.

"Did he say why he did?" I asked with caution, not wanting to have to calm her down in the middle of the diner.

"He just said that he needed time to think about things, and all that crap." She said, while switching from playing with her sunglasses to the napkins that were on the table.

"Ah."

We ordered our food, and I tried my best to help her, but in the end, her best friend managed to bail me out of saying something that I would later regret. She came in, talked to us, and told Caroline that she'd drop her off at home. I nibbled at the plate of fries in front of me, and pulled my wallet out, getting ready to pay the bill when I heard a familiar laugh. I peeked over at the booth that was in front of the diner, and my heart dropped into stomach. It was Tommy, with a girl that I knew all too well. I turned back to the plate of fries, but I suddenly wasn't hungry. This was probably because my heart was in my stomach, filling up all the room that food does, or it was because the girl that Tommy was sitting with, holding hands with, and gently moving that one strand of hair from her face, was the girl that I had planned to ask out tomorrow. I threw the last fire onto my plate, and started to suck down the rest of my Coke.

If you've never had the urge to use a French fry as a tool of murder, then you probably wouldn't understand the main urge I was fighting off. Instead of shoving the incredibly long fry that I had just picked up into Tommy's eye, I instead dipped it in an unhealthy amount of ketchup and shoved it in my mouth. I got up and walked to the cash register and paid off the bill, and left. The two were so involved with themselves they didn't even notice me walk by.

When I got home, my phone started ringing. I checked the caller id, and swore to myself. It was her. I didn't really want to talk to her right now, but I hated not picking up my phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, what's up?" She asked, all happy. I knew why she was happy, and it made me depressed.

"Nothing, just sitting around," I said, trying to sound somewhat happy.

"What did you want to see me about tomorrow?" She asked, and with every word my mood got worse and worse.

"Oh, nothing really." I lied. "Just needed help with something, but it's all taken care of now." It's times like these I'm glad I can lie like a president.

"Oh, okay. Just checking," she said. I prayed that I would be able to hang up soon, I wouldn't be able to keep up the civil tone for much longer, it was causing me physical pain.

"So, I'll talk to you later then." I said quickly and hung up. I stared at my phone for a bit, and then walked into my room and threw my phone onto the bed.

I don't know why, but this was my breaking point. I couldn't forgive Tommy for doing that to Caroline, and I wouldn't forget that literally twenty minutes after breaking up with his girlfriend of two years, he was out and about with someone else. And I couldn't forgive her for doing that. I eventually told Kyle, and he told the other people, and they called off the large sum of money they had riding on this moment. Kyle would later tell me that they did this because "it wasn't as fun that way".

This, despite belief to the contrary, is NOT the reason that I decided to take a long vacation without anyway to contact me.