I popped into Evey’s kitchen, where she was mixing up margaritas for her and Brooklyn. Evey was dressed to go out, revealing more skin than usual in her black silk shorts-jumper. Her smooth legs were still tan from the summer. She was wearing three-inch platform heels that I knew belonged to Brooklyn. I made a frustrated sound. She startled and turned around as if she’d heard me. She looked through me… thankfully.
“Brooke?” she called.
My heart was racing. Had she heard me?
“Yeah?” Brooklyn said, walking into the kitchen. “Wow, girl, you look amazing. You’re totally gonna get some action.”
“I don’t need action.” Evey handed over the margarita and said thoughtfully, “I’m extremely sated at the moment.”
“Ew, what were you doing to yourself in there?”
I felt like I should leave, like I was invading her privacy.
“Oh, shut up, you do it all the time. You don’t think I hear the buzzing?” Evey asked.
“Who were you thinking about? Huh? Please don’t say Beckett.”
I was standing right next to Evey, my mouth near her cheek. I was willing her to say my name but at the same time praying she wouldn’t.
“No one in particular.” She squinted. “Hot guy fantasy.”
Say my name.It looked like she was about to form the letter L. I was as close as I could be to her without actually touching her. I tried to smell her, but I couldn’t; I tried to breathe her in, but I couldn’t.
She shook her head. “I don’t know who I was thinking about.”
I’m on the other side of life, Evey, existing where death belongs and yearning to be with you. Yearning in brief moments to bring you here, into the darkness. When my thoughts are so painfully selfish, I cannot breathe you in at all. I cannot love you when I hate myself. Don’t say my name. Don’t think about me. Don’t imagine how we can be together.
She walked through me, toward the living room. I buckled over in pain. It’s always painful when you’re standing in the way of the person you love, but I didn’t care; I wanted to feel her so badly.
A moment later, I was flying to the liquor store. Disguised as an old, bearded homeless man, I put a bottle on the counter.
“Expensive Scotch, wouldn’t you say? Where’d you get the money?” the clerk said.
I pulled my billfold from my back pocket. “None of your fucking business.” I handed him a hundred dollar bill. “Keep the change, dickface.”
I went back to Evey’s and continued drinking on the steps until Joel and Keith, the two stupid apes, walked up and rang the buzzer.
Brooklyn answered, “We’ll be down in thirty seconds.”
Five minutes later, Evey and Brooklyn weren’t down yet. The apes were exchanging stories about “banging chicks”—their words, not mine—and I was drinking. No… I was guzzling. Joel and Keith’s angels were nearby. I could see them in the shadows. I wondered if I should make friends.
I stumbled over. Keith’s angel was a female wearing a kilt-like skirt. I could tell she belonged to Keith because of her proximity to him. I’ll get to that later—it’s complicated.
“Nice skirt,” I said.
“Fuck you,” she said in her thick Scottish accent.
“All right then,” I said, “Right here, out in the open? You’ve got easy access. I’m game.”
“Take a hike, buddy. You’re drunk,” said Joel’s angel.
“What’s everyone’s problem? Geez.” I gave them both a dirty look.
“You don’t remember me at all, ye bastart?” the Scotty bitch said.
I looked her up and down, shaking my head. “Why would I remember you?”
“Maybe cause we had a Tinder date last week and you showed up pissed, you fuckin’ dunderweed. Pissed like ya are now.”
