“Come on James, just one more block. You`ve got it in you man just keep moving”, I stuttered to myself desperately. I figured if I could trick my body to continue moving, I would make it home. It had been a long evening of blurs, lips I would never touch again, and faces that would vaguely look familiar. We had been drinking for hours, trying to polish off a 1.75 liter of Skol Vodka. Between three people we only managed to gather up 11 dollars, a paper clip, and some pocket lint but we couldn`t care less. We knew we weren’t in a parentless house for no reason. It was time to get a shitty as possible within the next few hours.

It was coming up on eight o`clock when we kicked off, it was 8:07 when we decided to call some girls over. By nine I couldn’t walk and by ten I was wrapped in bed sheets with a girl I just met, Jeanine. A six foot three brunette with a body that could kill, she was 8 inches taller than me but thanks to a couple hefty servings I couldn`t care less about her appearance. She was slightly loud, and her voice was overly nasal. I distinctly recall thinking that my ears were starting to bleed when she began to speak. I forgot to ask for her number but it was for the best, I didn’t love her anyway. After the phenomenon of sex ended I rolled out of bed and made my way to the bathroom. I splashed some water on my face and checked my watch. I left it on so I could time my experience to compare to future records. “Six minutes, seven seconds”, I announced with pride. “Yeah, a true stallion”, she said sarcastically as she pulled her blue tube top up, checked her reflection in the mirror and exited the room. I shrugged it off, got dressed and made my way downstairs. I had a while until I had to head home so I figured I would indulge a little more.

A few more people had showed up at Cole`s house. I had hoped that Lindsey would come by. I had been trying to catch up with her for days. She had been out of town and she had been interested in me for a while. Maybe it was the booze but I considered giving her a chance. I took a look around and saw no Lindsey so I continued on my course of action, I swiftly moved to the hiding spot of our stash. The bottle was a third of the way gone. I planned on taking as much as I could within the next half hour and heading home. I had a twelve o`clock curfew and I was not trying to push my parents buttons since they were leaving within hours. I poured two glasses one with eight ounces of skol and another with orange juice. Chug and chug was the name of the game. One player, as fast as you can ,as much as you can as many times as you can. Needless to say by eleven o`clock I was six blocks from home, wasted and needing a pack of cigarettes. I said my goodbyes and took off but not before buying a half used pack of Marlboro Seventy-Two `s from Cole.

He always seemed to have a pack of those, and he would always let me have a free one. He said he felt like a kid when he smoked them, he loved his youth. And because they were smaller than regular cigarettes he could smoke them fast while his parents went on a biked around the neighborhood. Whenever anyone asked why he was smoking “baby cigarettes” he would simply reply, “Less filter, more death”, he would always get the same funny look and they would leave him alone. He liked it that way, we were both loners. I just got lucky and found somebody I could relate to, talk to, smoke, and drink with in a new city.

Along with our habit for buying cheap booze, came our habit for having the hardest walks home known to man. Between trying to keep my glasses up, walk straight, and not burn my eyes out with my cigarette I was in hell. “If I ever make it home, this is going directly into the journal”.

After what seemed like months my front door was in sight. I grabbed my keys off of my belt loop and held them loosely in my left hand. I arrived at my front door after carefully climbing my cracked stone steps, thinking of how cole once chipped his two front teeth tripping and falling on to his own steps after a long night. He still has a small scar on his upper lip. “Now where are my fucking keys”? I slurred to myself. After about two minutes of me patting myself down and resting my forehead of my oak front door my phone started to ring. I reached for my back pocket with my left hand, switching my keys to my right. I looked down and chuckled to myself, “Drunk ass”. I removed my phone from my ripped jeans and looked at the screen. It was Frankie, God I missed her. She had been my best friend since I was six, and the girl I loved since I could talk. She knew everything about me. I haven’t been able to fly out back home to visit her since I moved to Chicago. It`s only been seven months but I`m sure she expected me back sooner. I didn’t answer, I couldn’t talk to her like this. I flipped my keys around fiddling for the right one and slipped it in the lock. It unlocked smoothly and I entered my home.

The house was dark, I checked the garage only to find there wasn’t even one car. Both of my parents must still be at their offices working away before their big trip. Although I wouldn’t put it past my father to by spying on my mom at work, about a year ago he caught her having sex with the family accountant at her office late at night. Either way I still had two flights of stairs to go until I could finally let my body shut down and wake up to tomorrow to continue my summer without parents for the next seven days.

“James, wake up honey, we are leaving”, my mother whispered to me. It was 4:45 in the morning I hadn’t even slept for 5 hours and wanted me to wish them a good trip. Casually I rolled out of bed, sick as a dog, and gave my mother a kiss and told her to call me when she landed. They were going to Mexico, and since I am such a lazy ass I decided to stay home. “Call me when you land and buy safe water”, I said jokingly as they loaded their bags into our Ford Explorer. “No girls in this house! I only want one kid when I come home. No grandkids allowed”, my father barked at me. I nodded and went back to bed. I woke up around two o`clock and called Frankie. It was noon there. She picked up after the first ring “Why didn’t you answer last night”!? I had to hold the phone away so my ear drums didn’t start to bleed, I already had enough of that last night.  I decided it would be best to just play dumb, “What? I just woke up and decided to call you I didn’t even get your call”. By this point she was sobbing, “Frankie, what the hell is going on?” I had never seen or heard of Frankie crying. She had always been the tough one between us two. Between the hangover and the shock of hearing her scrambled words I had no idea what was going on. “What is so important that you feel the need to call me crying?”  There was silence and a muffled, murmur slipped out of her mouth, “I got raped last night James”. Now not only have I showed no sympathy as of yet but I made myself look like an ass. “Where, How, Who”? “Stop”, She said, “This is your fault you selfish bastard”. And with that, the phone clicked, she was no longer on the other line. I grabbed my black leather bound journal, and I was relentless with it.

…So its all the sudden my fault that she can`t take care of herself. It`s not like I wanted to move here. She knows I want her. I`ve told her I`ve been in love with her for years. She knows she`s the only girl I`ve ever wanted to be with and I get blamed. I want this to just subside. I need to isolate myself from people. I need some liquour, a fresh journal and a pack of cigarettes so I can just think and get my head together. In one sense I am disappointed in myself. But in another I know I did nothing wrong and there was nothing I could do to prevent it. I am one thousand nine-hundred and eighty-two miles from the place I call home and yet I am still responsible for the events in peoples lives there. What about my own life, my own alcoholism, problems, drama, lust, fears, and achievements. I spend so much time worrying about other people and keeping myself looking cool and always on the relaxed side I have subconsciously built my own walls. Maybe these walls I have built are what keep me from being able to seriously fix myself. They have actually blocked me off from my own inner person and have limited my mental range of motion. So what do I really want? And what do I really know? I want my own truth. I want my own reason for being alive. And I just want to read my thoughts before I think them. Is that too much to ask?…

My journal had always been a gateway. I had gone through a few of them, I filled them up pretty fast and this one would soon join that club. When I lived out on the west coast Frankie would come over and we would trade journals. It wasn`t anything to exciting but I loved it because I wanted to know every inch of her the way she knew me. My journals were never a surprise to her but she would always say how beautiful my words were. I had the sloppiest chicken scratch handwriting but I guess she liked it. She never seemed to write as much as I did. Maybe that is why I feel as if I don’t know her because I never got to read exactly what she was thinking, just the socially acceptable feelings. She hides who she really is from everyone, even me. I don’t blame her though, I have read her journals and I know hat she has been through, I would close up the same way.

Her parents got divorced when she was eight. She stayed home from school for a week. I guess her father was professor at the University of California Riverside and had been having an affair with one of his twenty-two year old male students. Appearance tends to fool most, he was stocky and about six feet tall, a real stickler too. He always seemed to think I was up to something and could kick my ass with no problem if I ever broke anything of his. Her mother took it the hardest and drowned her sorrows religiously. To this day she could out drink me and all of my friends. Frankie saw a therapist a lot, and was smoking by the age to twelve. I never made big deal about it though. I`m usually a quiet kid and let people think and do as they please. She used to beg me to have one hers of but I would simply reply with a steady, “To each his own”, and that would be the end of that conversation. She always liked to push everyones buttons. She was a tease and was damn good at it too.

Our sophomore year she got really drunk and called me over, her parents were out of town for the weekend and mine were out on a personal night. Also known as pretending they are in high school and heading to the local motel to get down all night. So I hopped on my bike and headed over there. I showed up and the front door was ajar. There was a post-it note on the doorknob, clearly she didn’t remember to close the door after leaving it. I grabbed the hot pink square and read it, “Come on up James!”. I opened the large red door and stepped inside. Her house was bright, almost every light she had was on. She was scared of the dark and apparently having no one home made it worse. I was a little thirsty from the ride over so I walked into her kitchen to grab a drink. I walked around the island and opened the door to her refrigerator. I reached inside and grabbed a bottle of water and a slice of cheese. I closed the door, turned off the lights and walked out. Gradually I made my way around her living room and family room to shut off all of the excess lights before heading upstairs.

I took the back stairs because they led almost immediately to her room. The stairs were wooden and creaked fairly loud so you always knew when someone was coming. I heard Frankie in her room. As I walked I could see into her room, her lamp was on and her bathroom door was cracked. I knocked on the door even thought I was already inside her room, “Frankie”, I said in a hoping voice. “James! I`m in the bathroom come in here!”, Immediately I knew she was up to something, maybe a bucket of water to the face. I had fallen for that one to many times. I approached the closed bathroom door, turned the knob and pushed it open. I jumped out of the normal line of fire and saw nothing came out of the doorway. I peeked my head around the door and saw Frankie.

She had drawn herself a bath and was sitting in it completely naked. Her long dark hair draped over her left shoulder gracefully. It was damp and dripping and she twirled it with her index finger. “Well isn`t this awkward”. I said nervously, never taking my eyes off of her. “I don’t think so”, she replied “Get in” .She had a fairly large jacuzzi in her bathroom and a terrific body. Up until that point she was the only girl I had seen naked in person. As many times as I had told myself that I would take complete advantage of situations like these if the occasion ever came up I couldn`t bring myself to. “Frankie, I can`t” I shamefully admitted. “Why not”? Her words echoed. “You are wasted, I cant do this, we would regret it tomorrow”. “I love you James, why would I regret it” she was starting to cry. I turned around walked out. On the way home I didn’t say a word. I was still in shock from what happened. I couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful she was in the water. The next day she called me and asked if I wanted to go to lunch. We never talked about it the events of that night. At first I thought she didn`t even remember me being there. As time went on I knew better, and realized she was embarrassed. I had no intentions of ever bringing it up again. She had enough shit to deal with in her life then, and now she has another hefty item on her plate.

After I completed a strenuous session of writing I laid in bed. My right hand fourth finger was in horrible pain. I had an awkward grip when I wrote. I would always place my writing utensil between my third and forth finger and then wrapped my thumb as far around as I could. I would always get shit for it in grade school from my teachers. Over the years it left me with an odd “writers bump” as my mother called it. It was three fifty-five already. My day was starting to recede and I had hardly noticed. I grabbed my phone and called Cole. Eight rings later a groggy, hungover voice came on the line, “Hello”? Cole was the type of kid that could sleep until two in the afternoon and his parents would never think anything of it. “How was the rest of your night man? Get lucky?”, there was a silence on his end. “Yeah man, Lindsey came by about ten minutes after you left”, Cole admitted. “What the hell dude, I told you we had been talking and you hook up with her! Keep it in your pants man.” For as long as I had known Cole he had been the type of guy that just had random girls interested in him. Every now and then he would actually want a girlfriend but most of the time the girls he met were just another face, and another story he could tell. “Man I wasn`t even trying to get with her. She showed up with a forty, we split it, we started kissing and then she left.” Somehow I assumed there was more to the story than that but I wasn’t to interested in finding out. I told Cole I would hit him up later if I wanted to go out. I knew I wanted to stay in but I just needed something to say to get him off the phone, otherwise he would talk for forever.

After getting off of the phone with Cole and resting my face in my hands, I looked up into my mirror. I had some serious bags coming in under my eyes and I felt like my intestines were more than likely starting to eat each other. I needed some food so I decided I would head over to Jim`s. It was a small diner on the corner of Kedzie and West Logan Boulevard. You could always count of getting a solid double cheeseburger and fries for $4.85. I grabbed my phone, ipod and threw on the same jeans I wore last night. They reeked of cigarette smoke but I didn’t care. I walked downstairs and into the kitchen, my mother left money for me on the countertop. I opened the white envelope labeled “James”. There was three hundred dollars in it, all twenties. I pulled out eighty and tossed the envelope onto the kitchen table. I folded all four twenties and placed them in my right front pocket. Before leaving I checked my hair in the mirror, it was about that time for a hair cut. I just needed trim, I loved my shaggy brown hair but I always made it a point to look clean. I adjusted my thick black rimmed glasses and walked out of the house. My key seemed to not want to slide in the lock as easily as it did the night before but I managed to force it in. Immediately after I reached into my left back pocket once again and grabbed my phone.

I had fallen into the normal teenage stereotype “partying while the parents are away”. I searched through my phonebook until the name “Connect” was highlighted on my screen. I hit send and waited for a voice to come through the speaker. One ring later I heard a mellow voiced woman, “Hey James”. She was always easy to work with, so I got right to the point. “Hey, I need booze and cigarettes. Nothing to cheap, I have sixty dollars here for you. Just come to my house when you can”. “I`ll be there in about an hour”, she said. I was still standing on my porch, I took a look around to see if my neighbors had overheard me. No one was outside, I put my phone back into my pocket and began to head towards Jim`s...:NAMESPACE PREFIX = O />

I put my headphones in and turned on my ipod.  It was only a fifteen minute walk so I knew I could get through about six songs before I was walking in to place an order. It was an average summer day. It was almost movie-like, the sun was out, it was warm and Name Taken was my soundtrack. There were kids in the park playing tag across the street from the diner. I noticed that underneath a tree there was one kid with blonde hair and glasses reading a book. He couldn’t have been any older than twelve but he reminded me of myself. A loner, his book was falling apart, he must have fished it out of the book exchange bin right outside Jim`s. I hadn`t always been a loner, it began after I saw my father strike my mother for the first time.

It was right after she got caught having her affair. They were standing in the family room screaming at the top of their lungs. It was an uphill war inside my head and a raging battle all around me. I had never wanted to go near them while arguing but after about fifteen minutes of pure battle I remember peeking around the corner and over the banister and hearing my father, “Was I not good enough? I couldn’t satisfy you? I put this roof over our head and keep food on the table in you go fuck whoever you want!” I could see my mother crying and shaking. I started to get a sick feeling in my stomach and a lump in my throat. I looked at my father, he was enraged. My mother and my fathers eyes never left each other. My mother started to try and say something and my father lost control. Before anyone knew what happened my father had struck her. She was on the ground crying, I wanted to go down the stairs so bad but I stayed quiet and I didn’t move a muscle. My father looked up and saw me, he stared and then helped my mother off of the floor into the kitchen. I didn’t eat dinner that night. I don’t think I spoke to my father for a week.

Jim`s was never that busy. It never took more than five minutes to get your food and I liked it that way. I went in and placed my order for a double cheeseburger and fries. The guy at the counter was a middle aged Mexican. He was nice guy, he reminded me a little bit of John Travolta in Grease but he could never messed up your order. “$4.85 please”, he said in a strong accent. I handed him the twenty dollar bill and waited for my change. He held it up to the light, checking to see if it was real. I trusted my mothers competence to give me legal money so I paid him no mind and awaited my change. It took him a second to open up a new roll of dimes but the remainder of my money was returned in a swift fashion. I then folded the bills and put them into my left front pocket along with the change.  I waited at the counter for my food watching the burly cook flip burgers and put frozen fries into boiling grease traps. There was a older man at the end of the counter. He was a middle class guy with one hell of an appetite. His sandwich seemed to end up in his beard rather than his mouth, maybe that is why he had two double cheeseburgers, fries , onion rings and a water. Clearly he wanted to shell out for the food but go cheap with the drink, a logical strategy. He was halfway into his second cheeseburger and looked like he had no intentions of slowing down whatsoever. I almost lost my appetite watching him eat, thank god my order was up so I grabbed the stryofoam to-go case and walked out. When I exited the diner the little blonde boy had gone. There were still children out playing but I wasn`t interested in them. The little boy interested me, I almost wanted to ask him about his life but he was too young. I doubt he would have even known where to begin. I put my headphones in and started my walk home.

Just like always I did I strolled home, occasionally reaching into my to-go box and grabbing a fry or two. They were fresh, and crunched in my mouth. I could feel the grease covering the molars in the back of my mouth, warming my fillings. It was still nice outside and a cool breeze pushed my hair back. The walk home always seems shorter than the walk to Jim`s. Maybe because I snack on fries and sing Saves the Day all the way home. Fifteen minutes later I made it to my same old oak front door, it would be the last time I would see the outside of that door for days. I slid my key into the lock and pushed open my front door. I stepped inside and kicked off my shoes. The clock in my kitchen read four forty-five. I took a seat at the kitchen counter and stared out of the window that faces the street. Anxiously I gnawed away at my burger. It was no longer steaming but still warm. I only got about six bites into my burger before a green nineteen eighty-seven chevy cavalier pulled up.

Her name was Marlea, I personally always thought it was a nickname of some sort. She seemed to always be high and making runs for people. I quickly rose from the table and almost knocked my chair over. I never ran much, got a lot of demerits in gym class for never dressing, but when it came to booze I was a track star. I didn`t even put on my shoes before going outside, I assumed if I didn’t get out to her car quickly she would leave. I skipped a few of the concrete steps on the way out then stopped to make sure I didn’t look like to much of a fiend. I reached in my pocket pulling out the three crisp twenties I had neatly put in my pocket earlier. I casually looked around to make sure none of my neighbors were outside, and moved closer towards the car.

Marlea was twenty-three and a student at Columbia College in the loop. She was quite attractive and I often made advances towards her. Usually she would smile, politely take my money and call my sweetheart or baby. We had kissed once, she had gone on a run for me and a few of my friends during one of Cole`s parties. It was a fairly large order so she helped me take some of it out of the car. We both leaned into the car and put our hands of the same case of Miller Lite. I immediately looked at her and slowly pulled my hand away. She was looking right back at me. I was speechless and cautious of my breath because we were only about five inches from each others faces. Before I knew what happened she had slipped her hand around the back of my neck and kissed me. She was wearing cherry lip gloss which tasted amazing but the texture was all wrong. She pulled away and smiled at me. She told me it would be our little secret and removed the last case of beer. I couldn’t believe what just happened and didn’t have the balls to tell anyone, like they would believe me anyway. She closed her trunk and got into her car. A few weeks later I saw her again and she made no mention of it. It wasn’t a big deal, kissing wasn’t really what I wanted her for anyway.

I got up to the car and stuck my head in the window. Her air conditioning was on full blast and it felt like an ice box in her car. I stuck my hand out and shook her hand, slipping her the money at the same time. “I hooked you up Jamie-baby”, she said. “Sounds good to me what are we working with here”? , I replied. She popped her trunk and I walked around back. There was a handle of Bacardi Puerto Rican Rum, a fifth of Jose Cuervo Gold and buy one get ones of Marlboro seventy-twos inside of an obvious liquor store bag. I grabbed the brown paper bag and shut the trunk. I walked around to the window “Excellent work, I`ll be calling you soon” I said to her with confidence. She smiled, waved and then pulled off. I turned around and power walked inside. I was afraid to run and waste my sixty dollars all over the ground. I walked in the door and kicked it shut with my right foot. I was anxious, excited and scared because I knew what was to become of myself over the next few days. I was on a quest to find truth, relax and write. I walked up the stairs to head to my room and then the house phone rang. I moved faster and set the bag on the floor to grab the phone. It was my mother calling to say they landed safely. Gladly they called before I was to shit faced to even recognize the phone. “Honey your father ate the fish on the airline and has been looking green ever since! He even threw up on his pants and the man next to him”! “What are you doing on the phone with me! Dad is throwing up a storm down there. You go and get him to the hotel, I`ll be fine don’t mind me. I `m  about to order a pizza and watch a movie or something.” I stayed on the phone for eternity waiting for her to say her goodbyes. The one thing about parents is that whenever you don’t want to talk they have the most to say. Any other time you get short responses. Finally she ran out of items to talk about and she hung up. It was officially time to get down.

I took the bottles out of the bag and lined them up on my desk. I took both packs of cigarettes out of their wrappers and set them down as well. I went downstairs to get two cups, one full of orange juice and another that was empty. I returned to my room and placed those on coasters. I reached up onto my shelving and grabbed my playboy two ounce shot glass. “Breasts and booze, genious”, I chuckled to myself. I grabbed the handle of Barcadi and untwisted the cap, I two shot glasses full and poured them into the empty cup I had brought upstairs. I poured some of the orange juice into the glass as well. I picked up my first mixture and took a sip. The result was harsh but I was not by any means drinking for the taste. I chugged it down and gasped for air. My throat was on fire and my eyes were watering but I knew how I would feel in three minutes would make it all worth it. After the initial pain caused by them rum set in I grabbed my journal and a ball point pen. I tossed the two items onto my desk and stared at them. I wasn`t ready to bare my soul on the pages that laid in front of me. I grabbed my empty glass and poured myself another drink, this time with only one shot of rum and triple the orange juice. It was one hundred times easier so swallow than the first batch and just as effective.

I opened my journal and bit the cap off of my pen, spitting it across the room into my metal garbage can. “Money”! I exclaimed to myself. I leaned back in my chair, I could feel the blood rushing throughout my hands and feet. It felt good, really good. I put my hand on the desk to feel the wood grains and stared at them. Slowly I moved my eyes to my journal and stared at the lines on the pages in front of me. I gracefully moved my hand over the journal and began to write.

… “My parents are gone. Frankie got raped. Cole hooked up with the girl I was interested in and I am drowning the fuck out of my sorrows with no regard. The way I see it, even if I die of alcohol poisoning I have nothing else to lose so why does it matter? I`m sick. I drink my problems away, and my problem is drinking. I wake up somedays and my liver hurts so bad I can`t roll out of bed. I have been in loved with my best friend for at least three years and she blamed me for her rape. I should have just stayed with her that one night I saw her in her bathroom. And after all the times she has read my journal, and all the things I have said to her, and the late night phone calls, she still blames me of all people. What the fuck could I have done! I wish I would have never even picked up my phone this morning. I wish I would have just stayed at Cole`s and waited for Lindsey. We could have split the forty, we could have hooked up, and I could be telling the stories to Cole instead of the other way around like always.”…

I put my pen down and reached for my first pack of cigarettes opened the pack. I removed the blue foil guarding the cigarettes and pulled one out of the pack. I never smoke in my room but I was in no mood for going outside. I opened the two windows by my bed and turned my ceiling fan on the second highest setting. I walked over to my desk and reached up onto the same shelving unit where my shot glass rested. I reached around and grabbed my silver metallic Zippo lighter. I flicked it open and spun the flint with my thumb. The lighters flame was always pretty high and almost burned my hair every time I used it. I put the cigarette into my mouth and held the flame up to it. It burned slow and evenly as I removed the flame from it. I flicked the lighter so it would close and took a long slow drag from it and exhaled. “Thank God”, I softly said to myself as I started to take another.  I took my second drag and I watched as the smoke spiraled off of the cigarette. I could see the blue tinted smoke dance up and away towards the ceiling fan where it would soon be annihilated. I was lost in a haze. I grabbed my handle of rum, laid down on my bed and began to lose myself in my own head as I continued to drag on my cigarette.

The ceiling fan began to spin slower and slower. I remember it vividly. The wood grain on each of the five blades was almost identical. Each had its own chips and flaws. I would see my reflection on them as they spun. My hair was a mess and my eyes were blood red. I leaned my head back  and let my eyes roll as far as they could and closed my eyes. “Frankie”, I mumbled to myself. Once again she had managed to invade my thoughts from almost two thousand miles away. It was amazing how easily she should bring me up and knock me right back down. I couldn’t stop thinking about her damp curly dark hair and how badly I wanted our lips to meet at that moment. Then my mind jumped to Cole and how he had kissed Lindsey. She told me she was the best kisser this side of town and that one day she would prove it to me. Cole got the proof first obviously. Cole could always fucking get the girl while I struggled with foreplay, I always want to be forward but I can never get the right delivery. I truly did want to be with Lindsey she may have been the only other girl I had feelings for besides Frankie. Fuck Jeanine, she was to tall for me anyway and a bitch. I thought Lindsey was different, we had intellectual conversations. We would talk about bhuddism, literature, how fucked up the schooling system is, and at the same time we were just talking about our days. Its hard to find someone you can relate to, especially someone of the opposite sex. I am far from the most attractive guy on the planet. I am skin and bones, I have glasses, I fit into the girl next doors pants better than she does and that depresses me. Why can`t I just have my way. Just once would I like to get the girl. Have the cool hookup story or even better find someone I can relate to who will be honest with me. I grabbed my rum and lifted the room temperature bottle to my mouth and began to gulp down as much as I could. I took the bottle away as I felt my throat starting to close. My eyes wouldn’t open and my mouth felt as if it was going to fall off. I decided I needed to get some water in my system to I hurled myself off of my bed and landed on all fours. I began to crawl out of my room and towards the stairs.

The hardwood floor had never been so soft. I used my agile nature to bear crawl down the stairs, using more effort than I had used in a long while. I stood up at the bottom of my stairs and fell into the banister. I shook my head and stumbled to the kitchen. I looked in the cabinet for our red plastic cups. I was not by any means trying to pick up broken glass. I found a small stash of them and took one from the stack. I walked to my sink and pulled on the tab. Water started to come out and I put my cup in the sink to catch the stream of water. The cup began to fill and I removed it from the stream and chugged down all of it. My throat immediately felt relieved and I could feel the alcohol being washed off of my teeth. I re-filled the cup of water and staggered back up the stairs into my room. I entered my room and could immediately smell the thick scent of smoke. I grabbed the can of oust air spray I kept next to my door on my desk and sprayed it into the air. I set the can down and moved around my desk to my computer. I opened up my iTunes and selected Death Cab for Cutie to play. I had every song and loved them all so I had no preference to what came on. I sat down in the leather chair in the corner and lit another cigarette. This time my bangs caught on fire for a split second. I was took drunk to notice until after the fact that my hair started to smell like complete shit. I pulled my bangs down until I could see them to check out the damage. “Fucking split ends”, I said to myself “What-fucking-ever”. My head dropped uncontrollably and my neck quickly snapped back. I grabbed the back of my neck and stared out my window. I could see clear across the street into Melanie Casnella`s house. Her window was easily visible to mine the blinds were usually drawn but this time they were wide open.

I stared at her window for a few moments and then took a couple drags off of my cigarette. I could see her in her room lying on her bed. Her long blonde hair was pushed back behind her ears, she had on a pair of jeans and a blue tank top. She was probably the hottest girl in school. I had never talked to her even though she lived thirty yards away. I thought about just getting up and walking over to her house and knocking on the door. As soon as she would answer I would Tell her how beautiful she was and then she would throw herself into my arms and kiss me. Then it clicked that she probably didn’t even know my name and that fantasy quickly subsided. I took another drag, still thinking about Melanie.

I am well aware that it is human nature to want what you cannot have. Even as a child you will see children in stores screaming because they can`t have the big candy bar or the extra pack of gum. As you progress in life the things you can`t have just bother you even more. I will come to terms with myself and admit that I have an alcohol problem. I become agitated when I plan to drink and I cannot. I am agitated even when it isn’t planned. My alcohol fuels my everyday existence and it is my crutch, and my own wall that I hide behind. I have been building it for months now and now it is to big to destroy.  I looked at my clock, it was five-thirty and I was drunk as a wheelbarrow. I called Cole to see what he was up to. He answered fairly quick in a much happier tone than I had heard earlier. I asked him what he was up to for the night. He informed me that there was a kegger in the Wicker Park area and that he planned on going. I asked if I could tag along and we could tag team it. He agreed to idea and we planned to meet at Jim`s in one hour. I got off the phone and started to undress. I hadn’t showered since yesterday and smelled like death with a hint of Gillette deodorant. My hair was the greasiest it had been in months and the neck on my t-shirt was stretched out. I removed my clothes and took the items out of my jean pockets. I rolled all of the dirty items into to ball threw them into my mesh hamper that hung off of the back of my door, “Money”, I repeated to myself as I walked into the bathroom.

I stood in front of my the mirror and removed my glasses. Without them I was practically blind and the alcohol never helped by any means. I turned around and opened my shower door. I turned the handle and the water began to run. I turned the water up fairly high. I couldn’t stand a cold shower and I wanted to sweat a little bit in an attempt to sober up. The water warmed up quickly and I got in. I let the water run down my back and closed my eyes. The water was almost scolding me and made me tense up but I had no intention of turning the temperature down. I opened my eyes and looked down at my body. I was a thin kid. I was only five foot six inches and  about one hundred and twenty-five pounds. You could clearly see my rib cage whenever I didn’t have a shirt on. I couldn’t gain weight or grow facial hair if my life depended on it. I grabbed my liquid soap and squirted a silver-dollars sized amount into my hand. I began to rub it onto my body. I could smell the aroma of cucumber melon rising up in the shower. The gel was pretty thick and I would always get tired applying it but the scent lasted for hours so it was well worth it. I washed the soap off of my body and got out of the shower. Quickly I opened the shower door and stepped over to my bathroom counter. I put my hands down searching for my glasses. About two or three seconds later I stumbled upon them. Lifting them up to my face my eyes steadied  and my vision became clear. I reached for my toothbrush and toothpaste. I was nowhere near as drunk as I was twenty-five minutes ago. I began to brush my teeth and walked naked into my room. Approaching my closet I decided I would go for the low key look tonight. I opened my closet door and took a look around. Shortly after I pulled out pair of low-rise dark washed Abercrombie and Fitch jeans. I had just got them on clearance and they fit me like a glove. I pulled a random t-shirt off of a hanger and decided to wear it.  It didn’t really matter what it was all my shirts fit the same and whatever band was on it didn’t matter either. I never kept a shirt I didn’t like so it was easy to get dressed when I was in a hurry because I knew even if I wasn’t in the mood for that I still looked good. I walked out of my room and to the linen closet, leaving my toothbrush on my desk. I was still naked and wet and I needed to dry off before I got dressed. The linen closet didn’t even have a door. I broke it about three days after we moved in and we just never got it fixed. I reached up to the second shelf and grabbed a white towel. I began to dry off right there in the hallway. I figured if anybody broke in my dazzling physique would scare them off.

It was six o` four when I re-entered my room. I needed to meet up with Cole soon so I grabbed a pair of fruit of the loom boxer briefs from my underwear drawer and got dressed. I checked my hair in my bathroom and put on some Hollister cologne my mother had gotten for me last Christmas. I grabbed my messenger bag and put the two packs of cigarettes in the pockets underneath the overlapping flap. I grabbed a shirt out of my dirty clothes hamper and wrapped my fifth of tequila in it the put it in my bag. It was six fifteen and time for me to be on my way to go meet up with Cole. On the way out I slipped on my penny loafers. They were pretty beat up but they were the most comfortable shoes I owned. I stepped of my house and locked my front door. The sun was still pretty high in the air, it was very warm out. I started my second walk of the day over to Jim`s. I started to think about the little blonde boy again and hoped that he would be sitting in the park again. I started to get a bad feeling in my stomach as I got closer to Jim`s. By the time I started to see Cole I had the largest lump in my throat humanly possible. I approached Cole sluggishly and asked him where we were going. “Booze haven man, booze haven”, he replied. I sighed, still having the lump in my throat, I looked up at the sky and then back at Cole , “Lets do it man”. We started to walk towards Wicker Park. I refused to talk about Lindsey so I mentioned nothing about the night before. Minutes later we arrived at the house. It was a red brick two flat. All the lights were out but we knew the deal. You always left your lights off and kept everyone in the basement.

We walked up to the door and knocked lightly. Almost instantly a six foot six dark haired guy answered the door. He couldn’t have been much older than twenty but his biceps were comparable to my head. “What`s the word”, he said in a monotone voice. The last thing I was going to do was say anything to make fun of this guy. Cole took it upon himself as usual, he was always the talkative one. “Chloe invited me”, he said briskly. The hired security clearly was not impressed but stepped to the side. I kept my head down as I followed Cole into the house. There were a few couples hooking up in the room right next to the door. Which made me wonder what the sick fuck at the door was thinking during all of that but I wasn`t trying to get into his head. We walked down the hall and I stared at the pictures on the wall. Most of them were of a girl I had never seen before. Her whole life could be seen on the walls from kindergarden to high school graduation. The girl probably had no problem with forgetting her own face.

Cole and I got to the basement door and I took a deep breath. For some reason I had a bad feeling about going through it but I was never one to back down. I may have  been one of the most feminine guys in school but I had balls of steel. Cole opened the door and we stepped down the carpet stairs leading to an open area filled with people. Many of them were older and smoked carelessly next to the hand drawn signs that read “Smoke Outside”. I decided to blend in, I lifted the flap to my messenger bag and grabbed my pack of cigarettes. I walked to the corner of the room and took my bag off of my shoulders. There was a table that went up to my chest and I set my bag on it. I stayed quiet and observed as I lit my cigarette. In one corner there was a group of guys desperately trying to hit on the hottest redhead I had ever laid my eyes on. I had never seen her before but I could definitely get used to seeing her. In another corner stood the losers, they all had good personalities but they were the shyest kids I had ever met. They had brought a twenty-four of Miller Lite and were chatting amongst themselves. Clearly they didn`t have an exciting night ahead of them. I reached into my bag again and grabbed towel wrapped tequila bottle I had walked over with.

No one seemed to notice me sitting in the corner and to a certain extent I liked it that way. I like being undetected, it makes me feel like I get to see how people really are. I still had my full bottle of tequila and it excited me. I knew once the cap came off it was balls to the wall, jus the way I like it. I removed the shirt from the bottle and put it back into my bag. I carelessly unscrewed the cap. Reaching into my bag I grabbed my shot glass and put in on the table. I looked around the room once again. The redhead I had noticed before was watching me, I stared back at her and she smiled. I raised my eyebrows and motioned for her to come join me. She was hesitant at first, but after comparing me to the group of guys desperately trying to get some she walked right over. She was wearing a pair of American Eagle artist jeans and an H&M striped hoodie. “Hey”, I casually slipped out as I poured tequila into my shot glass. “Hey, cool party huh”? she said with reserve. “Its okay, I`m just trying to loosen up. Care to join me”?  By some stroke of luck she was up for it. For some reason, whenever I drink I become the smoothest guy known to the human race. Cole and I always joked that with a few handles I could single handedly double the population of the entire earth. Her name was Claire and I couldn’t help but to ask about her life. I poured her a shot and asked her made conversation. She was a tequila girl so we were friends from the get go. We talked about everything from her love for Hemingway to how to make the perfect grilled cheese. She had a boyfriend which immediately was a blow to my game. He was supposed to be at the party but she had the assumption he was hooking up with some other girl. I told her all about Frankie, Cole and Lindsey, and how my parents were out of town. She joked about coming to sleep at my house with me if he boyfriend didn’t show up soon. She seemed interested in me but I am not one to get involved with girls who had boyfriends. We took a couple more shots a piece. She always made the cutest faces when ever she would swallow. Her eyes would close and her lips would pucker up like a lemon was in her mouth. I laughed every time and she would be in awe at how easily I would take my shots down. About forty-five minutes into conversation I had to use the bathroom. I asked her if she knew where it was. She pointed to a small hallway located around on the other side of the basement. “I`ll be right back”, I said with confidence as I walked towards the hallway. The door to the bathroom was already open. “Thank god”, I said to myself. I had hardly gone to the bathroom all day and it was finally taking its toll. I turned on the lights, entered and closed the door behind me. I took a step towards the toliet and started to undo my pants. My fly was halfway down when Claire quickly turned the doorknob and rushed into the bathroom. “What the hell”? I blurted out. “Don`t mind me”, she said as she closed the door, “I just want to fix my make-up. Do what you have to do”, she said with a smirk on her face. I immediately noticed she didn’t have a purse with her. I was flabbergasted with her obvious pass at me. I shook my head and continued to unzip my fly. I heard the door lock a few seconds later. “Well why the fuck didn’t I think of that”? I thought to myself. I awkwardly whipped out my goods and started to pee. I was drunk as Cooter Brown and was more uncomfortable than I had ever been. Gradually I started to feel her breath on the back of my neck and a hand reaching around my body. My eyes were as big as the moon and I couldn’t speak. “Want me to take care of this for you”? she said in a soft voice. Just then my brain decided to stop working on me, “I-uh, I –uh think I might be able to handle it”. Two seconds later came a pounding knock on the bathroom door. “Claire you better open this shit right now”! announced booming voice. “Fuck, its my boyfriend”! She whispered harshly. My stomach started to turn and I had a feeling a world of trouble was resting behind that door. The only thing I could think of was that my face was about to become as flat as a six year-old girl and I`d be lucky if I walked out with my dignity.