Chapter 12
Rock-Bottom
Samuel Foster
It’s been three days since I last shaved, and if I’m honest, I haven’t brushed my teeth in that time either.
Shower?Whatever.I’m ragged, I’m rough, and I stink.
So sue me.
The intercom buzzes and I raise my head from the couch. I’ve had the television on a reality channel and I think I’ve been watching something about real housewives for sixteen hours straight. I scratch at my stained t-shirt and amble to the door to check the security camera – I ordered pizza and with any luck, this is it.
Hallelujah!At the front gate, there’s a delivery bike with a box at the back, and I buzz the guy in and hover at the door, waiting for him to make his way up the drive to the entrance.
If the scrawny kid holding the helmet is surprised at my appearance, he doesn’t give a sign of it. Probably used to seeing guys like me all the time. I don’t give a fuck either way.
“Hawaiian with extra pineapple?” he asks, and my jaw drops. I’m about to chew him out for screwing up my order when his face splits into a grin and he passes me the box.
“Just messing with ya, bro,” he cracks up at his own joke. “You won’t believe how many people are morally offended by pineapple on pizza.” He taps the lid then shoots me a look as if waiting for me to laugh. I’m not in the mood.“GrandePepperoni with chili,” he eventually confirms. I shove a handful of notes into his hand and grab the steaming pizza box, pulling the edges of my robe together as I slam the door shut behind me and walk back to the sitting room.
When I get back to my seat, a blond with fake tits and fake lips is saying something on the screen about integrity and being authentic. She’s pissed at one of her manybest friendsfor not inviting her to a dinner party. Or maybe she got invited but didn’t enjoy it. Who knows. These chicks fight about every fucking thing. I love it, because it makes my life seem almost sane. And that is saying a whole damn lot.
I pull my robe up under my chin and take a deep breath, trying to catch the lingering scent of Arielle in the thick fleece. On the first day that I wore it, I could still smell her on it. Now, there’s not much more than beer and body odor remaining. And that thought reminds me that my bottle is empty. I grumble to myself as I head back to the kitchen. This time I’ll bring back the entire six-pack so I don’t have to get up again.
When I return, the scene on the screen has changed dramatically – now it’s abrunettewith fake tits and fake lips who’s pissed off. Poor baby. I grab a slice of pizza and shovel it into my mouth, then wash it all down with a mouthful of Bud. I’m just about to swing my legs onto the sofa and slouch back into the cushions for some more quality time with my ‘real wives’ when my phone rings. I pour half my beer on the rug as I scramble for the thing; it’s slipped down between the goddamn pillows.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
It might be Arielle. She’s ignored my calls since that day, but maybe she’s changed her mind. Maybe she’s ready to talk. Maybe...
I feel my heart sink as I see the name on the screen.
Cory.
I consider ditching the thing. The man’s been calling a dozen times a day since the night Austin ran off. It’s not like I didn’t thank him for helping. I wish he’d just leave me alone.
But I know that he won’t, so I grudgingly take the call.
“Waff oo wan?” I mumble through a mouthful of pizza.
“Sam?” the voice on the other end barks. “Is that you? Are you okay?”
I swallow the lump in my mouth and swig back some beer to clear it. “What do you want?”
“And hello to you too, my excellent friend. Why, I’m just fine, thank you very much for asking.”
Great. Another fucking clown.
“I don’t have time for this, Cory. What do you want?” I repeat. I know I sound like an ass, but Cory’s got a hide like a rhinoceros. If I show even a hint of weakness, he’ll be going in for the kill.
“I’m just checking up on you, buddy. How you doing?” Cory says.
“What do you want, Cory?” I say more firmly. If that’s actually possible.
“What? I can’t call my friend to see how he’s doing?” Cory keeps up the act.
“I’m hanging up now, Cory,” I reply, taking another bite of pizza.
