wanted to keep on holding her and kissing her, but it isn’t possible. Our relationship isn’t possible. My heart hurts so bad I am physically in pain.
No. Wait. That would be the rum.
I lean over the porch and throw up the only thing in my stomach, alcohol. I all but curl up in a ball and cry. What the hell, I do end up curling up and let the pain have me . . . then pass out.
I wake up and feel something soft over me and know someone is close by. I try to sit up and see that Ali is next to me reading a book with a flashlight. She notices that I am awake.
“You almost got caught out here,” she says, putting her book down and turning the flashlight off. There is a blanket over me, and I recognize it as the quilt from her bed that we had lain on back in September. I try to sit all the way up and am immediately too dizzy and want to puke again. Ali shifts and fumbles with something next to her.
“Here,” she says, helping me. “I have water and crackers for you.” Ali’s arms slip under mine as she props me against the wall. She is so close to me, taking care of me. I can smell the coconut scent surrounding her, and the sense of being home surrounds my heart.
“How did you know I was here?” I ask, taking the water and sipping it. A grin crosses her lips.
“I’ve seen you out here every night that I’ve gone out with Jeremy,” she mumbles. “When he dropped me off, I noticed you slouched over and waited until he left to come over. When I found you, well, I guess I knew you could use some help.”
I rub my head. “What time is it?” The moon hangs lazily in the sky. I think, or hope, I have thrown up most of the alcohol I consumed, but I am still feeling the effects.
“Three in the morning,” she answers.
“It’s not what you think,” I say, feeling my stomach roll. Ali nods, watching me.
“What is it then, Cooper?” Her eyes look as sad as I feel. I want to tell her that I just can’t let her go and how much I love her. But I am buzzed, and when I tell her how I really feel, I know I need to be sober so she takes me seriously.
Instead I say, “I don’t know.” She hands me another bottle of water, more crackers, and a couple of sticks of gum. Oh, man. I so suck right now.
“Can you walk?” she demands suddenly.
“You’re right.” I push to stand and immediately curse the invention of rum. “I need to get home.” Ali shakes her head and sighs loudly, balancing my weight with her shoulders.
“You live too far away to walk, and I’m not letting you in my car if you’re just going to throw up again,” she says, struggling to lead me forward. I make a mental note to ask her how she knows where I live. “My dad is fighting a fire in the farmlands up north and won’t be home for three, maybe four more, days. You can crash at my place, but just for the night.”
I know that I should be saying no and walking home, but I can’t. “I’m drunk,” I state the obvious. Ali laughs and pulls me forward. I am vaguely aware that she somehow managed to get me upstairs and has tucked me into her bed. I can feel her pulling my shoes off and her hesitation as she considers what to do with the rest of my clothes. My eyes are closed, and she is humming while placing extra blankets on me. The room is spinning, and I want to make it stop.
“You are freezing,” she says to herself, thinking I have passed out again. She sits on the bed and brushes the hair from my face. “You are so handsome, Cooper.” Her lips press softly to my forehead.
No. Wait. That would be the rum.
I lean over the porch and throw up the only thing in my stomach, alcohol. I all but curl up in a ball and cry. What the hell, I do end up curling up and let the pain have me . . . then pass out.
I wake up and feel something soft over me and know someone is close by. I try to sit up and see that Ali is next to me reading a book with a flashlight. She notices that I am awake.
“You almost got caught out here,” she says, putting her book down and turning the flashlight off. There is a blanket over me, and I recognize it as the quilt from her bed that we had lain on back in September. I try to sit all the way up and am immediately too dizzy and want to puke again. Ali shifts and fumbles with something next to her.
“Here,” she says, helping me. “I have water and crackers for you.” Ali’s arms slip under mine as she props me against the wall. She is so close to me, taking care of me. I can smell the coconut scent surrounding her, and the sense of being home surrounds my heart.
“How did you know I was here?” I ask, taking the water and sipping it. A grin crosses her lips.
“I’ve seen you out here every night that I’ve gone out with Jeremy,” she mumbles. “When he dropped me off, I noticed you slouched over and waited until he left to come over. When I found you, well, I guess I knew you could use some help.”
I rub my head. “What time is it?” The moon hangs lazily in the sky. I think, or hope, I have thrown up most of the alcohol I consumed, but I am still feeling the effects.
“Three in the morning,” she answers.
“It’s not what you think,” I say, feeling my stomach roll. Ali nods, watching me.
“What is it then, Cooper?” Her eyes look as sad as I feel. I want to tell her that I just can’t let her go and how much I love her. But I am buzzed, and when I tell her how I really feel, I know I need to be sober so she takes me seriously.
Instead I say, “I don’t know.” She hands me another bottle of water, more crackers, and a couple of sticks of gum. Oh, man. I so suck right now.
“Can you walk?” she demands suddenly.
“You’re right.” I push to stand and immediately curse the invention of rum. “I need to get home.” Ali shakes her head and sighs loudly, balancing my weight with her shoulders.
“You live too far away to walk, and I’m not letting you in my car if you’re just going to throw up again,” she says, struggling to lead me forward. I make a mental note to ask her how she knows where I live. “My dad is fighting a fire in the farmlands up north and won’t be home for three, maybe four more, days. You can crash at my place, but just for the night.”
I know that I should be saying no and walking home, but I can’t. “I’m drunk,” I state the obvious. Ali laughs and pulls me forward. I am vaguely aware that she somehow managed to get me upstairs and has tucked me into her bed. I can feel her pulling my shoes off and her hesitation as she considers what to do with the rest of my clothes. My eyes are closed, and she is humming while placing extra blankets on me. The room is spinning, and I want to make it stop.
“You are freezing,” she says to herself, thinking I have passed out again. She sits on the bed and brushes the hair from my face. “You are so handsome, Cooper.” Her lips press softly to my forehead.
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