Just Before You Go

Brian was nodding off in the corner of the couch, his head falling and catching itself every so often as an inebriated Jimmy talked at him. He pretended to pay attention and Jimmy pretended not to be offended by the lie, a routine only best friends could pull off without a hitch.
Matt, however, was giddily eating up every word Jimmy drunkenly laid out. He threw his head back, his cheeks dimpled with amusement. I found myself taking a mental picture of the moment; I loved to watch Jimmy spark happiness in the ones he loved. It was always so effortless but never short of awe inspiring.
“Fuck,” Blair Peterson grumbled, flopping down onto the bench across from me, slipping off her elbow.
I tried my best not to laugh as she lazily tried to upright herself. She looked at me with a wince as she finally settled her arms atop the table.
“I am a little bit drunk,” she told me, holding up her fingers and spreading them a fraction of a hair apart. “This much. Just this much.”
I smirked over at her. She squinted back.
“Are you drunk?”
I tipped my cup to peer inside, as if that might offer her some sort of response. I shook my head, no.
“Lame,” she decided with a sigh.
Obliging the dark goddess, I took a long sip. Her piercing green eyes made their home atop my existence, the weight was insurmountable. Every time she looked at me, I’d be nearly overcome with intimidation. There was something so wildly inhuman about her; impossibly perfect. Everything she did looked so simple—so beautiful. Like a tornado of florals raining down onto a world of wreckage. Her strength was admirable. I’d endured a fraction of the trauma she’d been subjected to and still come out a questionable human being. She was guarded, sure. But she was warm and witty too. I longed to be like Blair, even just for a second. I wanted to know what it was to be strong.
“Blair?” I mused, shifting under her gaze.
She raised her brows at me.
“What happened to your parents?”
Her head fell subtly to the side, “What do you mean?”
She really was drunk.
“How did they...You know.”
“Die?” she half-laughed.
It seemed an odd reaction, but I reminded myself there were people in the world that laughed through funerals. Humans did strange things to convince themselves they couldn’t feel anything grim. Blair was apparently no exception.
I nodded.
“Why do you want to know about that?” she scoffed. “I don’t want to talk about that.”
Her eyes echoed with pain, a hint of a threat lingering in the spaces where vulnerability lived.
“I just want to know you better,” I shrugged.
She waved me off, shaking her head a bit, “That’s not something I talk about. Ask me something else.”
I wasn’t sure if she’d meant it as an invitation for an impromptu Q&A session but I snatched up the opportunity anyway. She fumbled with her empty cup, frowning at it with disappointment.
“This was full when I left it,” she muttered.
I smirked, “Yeah, Jimmy drank it.”
She groaned, rolling her eyes as she struggled to spin around, “James Sullivan! You drank my fucking drink?”
He stopped in the middle of his sentence, grinning deviously over at his counterpart.
“Fuckin’ Jimmy,” she grunted, making an ill-fated attempt to get up.
Brian’s eyes had shot open at the sound of her voice. I adored the way he’d liven up as his blood pulsed for Blair’s presence. He was on his feet in seconds, pushing at Blair playfully.
“I’ve gotchu,” he grinned down at her affectionately.
“You’re a good man, Brian Haner,” she laughed.
He nodded, getting to work on the next Blair drink. I watched him curiously as he opted not to splash any alcohol into at all—Blair had no idea. He caught my gaze as he turned to deliver the gift, offering up a lazy wink. I tried not to laugh.
“There you go, drunky,” he smiled at her, sliding the red cup into her reach.
“This is why I love you,” she mumbled happily, mostly to herself.
Brian visibly stiffened, like she’d just slapped him clear across his perfectly sculpted face. He looked at me with embarrassment before stumbling back to his duo, still cackling like two hyenas. I wasn’t sure if Brian was embarrassed about Blair’s sentiment or his reaction to it. I wasn’t sure how anyone could be embarrassed to be loved by Blair Peterson.
“He doesn’t like that,” Blair told me, sipping at her drink. “Oh, well.”
“Brian’s weird,” I replied awkwardly.
Her face fell as she broke a little, but she quickly regrouped, “Brian is the love of my life. That’s what Brian is. So, shitty for me I guess.”
“What?” I choked, floored by her confession and confused by the follow up.
“You are what you love,” she mused, twirling her drink around in the air. “And not who loves you back. Thank god for that, am I right?”
My mind was going through the motions, “What?”
She laughed, “You’re a broken record, Aria. Pick a new tune.”
There was the Blair I knew. Sometimes I was sure she still hated me deep down. I could never quite get beneath her skin entirely.
But maybe that was just Blair.
I considered confessing the things I knew about Brian’s head space. Blair’s drunken confession shed a new light of Brian’s earlier mood. His question now made total sense.
But before I could get into girl bonding, Blair had moved on. Typical. I wish I could dismiss men and the feelings they provoked like she could.
“Thanks again for going through my contract,” she smiled over at me. “I really appreciate it.”
“I’m happy to help,” I smiled back. “But...can I ask you something?”
She shrugged.
“Why do you want to leave? Is it because they didn’t like your song?”
She laughed sharply, “Oh, please. I’m hardly sensitive.”
“Well what then?” I pressed curiosity.
Another shrug.
“Good talk, Blair,” I grumbled, annoyed of her stop and go tactics.
She eased up, her face relaxing as she took another swig of her cola, “I was, like, seventeen when Tyler made me join his band. They weren’t very good and their old singer was a total fuckin’ creep. When he got the boot, Ty forced me to take his place. No one else wanted me there...I didn’t even really want to be there. But I wanted to make Tyler happy. I thought I’d do it for a while until Ty got bored of it...But he didn’t.”
I sat in stunned silence as Blair squinted through her memories. I guess all it took was a bit of gusto to get BP talking.
“Then Ty and I decided to move out to Cali,” she continued, her eyes still focused in the past. “And the guys came along...I didn’t want them to. But Ty thought it was a great opportunity. I didn’t want an opportunity...I just wanted out.”
“Out of what?” I asked softly as her excitement dwindled out to silence.
She frowned, “My life. That town...I felt like I was rotting there. I was suffocating in the monotony. And...I’m starting to feel like that again.”
“I get that,” I sighed, leaning back into the hard cushion.
Her eyes focused on me again, trying to read my mind.
“It’s hard getting pushed into a life you don’t want,” I empathized.
She considered this for a second, “I wouldn’t say I don’t want it...It’s more complicated than that. I just...I feel like I’m existing for someone else. I just want to exist for myself for once. Just for a while.”
I made a mental note it get Blair drunk more often—but to steal her away from Jimmy if I wanted serious conversation. She was deeper than I’d thought possible; I could have swam around in her mind forever.
But, as luck would have it, horns cut through the bus’ stereo speakers. Jimmy and Blair were immediately alerted to its familiarity, each lighting up instantaneously. Their attention pulled from the others and zeroed in on each other. Blair abandoned me without a second thought, stumbling over to meet Jimmy in the middle of the small floor space.
Brian knowingly stepped around them as they began their ritual; they hung off of one another, shouting lyrics at each other as they shook their hips to the strangest rhythm I’d ever heard.
Brian slumped down next to me, I’d assumed to better watch the Blair and Jimmy show. They were endlessly entertaining, especially once you added liquor to their already insanely energized link.
“I’ve got a game for you,” Brian grinned at me, leaning into my ear ever so slightly.
I smirked, “I’m intrigued.”
“Every time they touch, you drink,” he half-laughed. “Matt and I play it, I promise you’ll be drunk in the next ten minutes.”
I snickered, grabbing my cup from the table and raising it to his creativity.
Jimmy shook his hips theatrically, arm thrusts thrown in for good measure. Blair was having a fit, grabbing at his arm as she bellowed with laughter.
“Drink,” Brian grinned.
We did.
“If you want to know what’s beyond the show,” Jimmy screeched at the top of his lungs.
“You ride my carousel, enter life’s jail cell!” Blair added, equally as loud and off key.
For two people so uniquely gifting in the art of vocals, they were appallingly terrible. As they fell into a muddled version of the remaining chorus, Jimmy wrapped his fingers around her wrist, pushing her drink up to her lips. Idiots; it’s a virgin cocktail.
“That’s another,” Brian laughed.
Matt was leaned back, taking in the show unfolding before his hazel eyes. By time we’d reached the halfway point of the weirdest song known to man, Brian and I were onto new sets of drinks.
“I think, I think I’m gonna be sick!” Jimmy screeched along to the music.
Blair was in awe of his mimicking of the sounds. Jimmy caught this immediately, grabbing at her seriously to try and steady his wavering eyesight. He tried to coax her into an attempt at unnatural vocal ability but she wasn’t having it. They fell into another round of incoherent laughter.
“Jesus,” I snickered, downing another big gulp.
“Told you,” Brian grinned.
“What is this anyway?” I asked, not particularly pleased with its sound.
Brian caught this with amusement, “This is Mr. Bungle. It’s only figures Blair loves them too.”
Blair wrapped her arms around Jimmy’s waist as Matt got up to join their troupe. They welcomed him in happily.
“That counts,” Brian snorted.
A few months ago, this game would have been enough to tear my insides apart. But now I found it strangely adorable. They had no idea how frantically they were reaching for one another, constantly connected by their subconscious; like a severed soul recognizing its lost piece. Jimmy had an undeniable light shrouded around him whenever he’d be near Blair Peterson, and I was glad he’d found her. Jimmy worked so hard to ensure everyone was happy, everyone was taken care of. Blair never stopped making him laugh; she never snuffed out his light. If Jimmy was the fire, Blair was straight alcohol: igniting his senses and flaring his light to new bounds. Their friendship was something marvelous and Brian and I were caught up marveling at it.
“They’re something, aren’t they?” Brian smiled.
I laughed, “They are.”
“We’re lucky, you know,” Brian told me thoughtfully, glancing over at me. “You can tell how fucking fiercely they love each other.”
I missed the part where that somehow made us lucky.
“Right,” I said slowly.
Brian shrugged, taking a sip of his beer as his eyes fell back onto Blair, “That’s how they love us too. We just can’t see it. That,” he gestured toward the two drunken idiots as they shoved Matt back onto the couch and out of their way. “is the love they’re capable of. So...we’re lucky.”
Brian’s sentimental jargon was enough to leave me reeling. Jimmy grinned over at me, shaking his head to the beat specifically to entertain me. My entire soul lit up as I laughed and his eyes beamed with affection.
“She loves you,” I reiterated. “You’d be stupid not to love her back.”
Brian smirked, “Looking at her right now it’s hard to imagine a world where I don’t love her. That crazy woman over there is my whole heart. I guess that fuckin' lanky one too...But Blair is...She's something else, you know?”
"I do," I nodded, “But does she know it?” I added knowingly.
He tensed up a little. I wasn’t going to force Brian into some spiritual awakening, so I peeled my eyes away just in time to watch Blair and Jimmy collapse into exhausted piles of bones on the couch. They’d outlasted Matt with their dancing; he was fast asleep, arms folded across his chest.
“I fucked it up,” Brian muttered quietly.
“Fucked what up?” I asked slowly, meeting his eyes in the middle.
He frowned, “She told me she loved me and I fucking ran away.”
“You ran away,” I repeated flatly.
He nodded, “I’m a piece of work. I don’t deserve her.”
“Don’t do that,” I sighed. “You do deserve her. You deserve exactly her. Blair’s good for you. She brings you out of your broody shell...She seems to make you happy.”
He smiled faintly, “She does.”
“We all deserve to be happy, Bri,” I smirked, nudging him lightly.
He nodded, “I know I’ve said this before, but I feel like I should say it again...I’m really fucking glad Jimmy found you.”
“How drunk are you?” I replied teasingly. “You’re a big ol’ softy tonight!”
He smiled at me, his doe eyes sparkling, “Like I said, I’m just feeling lucky.”
I smiled back, “Me too.”
He swung his arm around my shoulders, letting our friendship resettle into something solid. I was always grateful for Brian; he’d always had my back. We looked out from our half-talk, to find Jimmy and Blair passed the fuck out.
Blair had her head rested against Jimmy’s leg, curled up in fetal position. His hand lay limply on her back, his head resting on the back of the couch. They were so innocently devoted that it pulled at my heart strings.
“Isn’t that fucking adorable,” Brian chuckled.
I nodded, “It really is.”
“I want a picture,” Brian smirked, scooting out from our tiny space. “And then we’re totally drawing dicks on all of their faces.”
I snickered, downing the rest of my drink in one go, “I’m in!”
Blair and Jimmy had started the impromptu party, and had pretty well maintained it themselves, but Brian and I outlasted them all. As we raided the drawers for markers and subsequently scrawled unmentionables across Matt’s forehead, I felt strangely free.
This, I thought, must be the feeling Blair was longing for. The innate ability to connect with people on your own volition; to do what you want without your authority questioned. I had a sliver of the feeling and I was eating it up. I was glad to know I was helping Blair to get her fix.
Anyone that could love others so freely deserved to be loved back.
I’d show her my love through support. And Blair Peterson was a cause I could get behind any day.
“I can’t do it,” Brian groaned, hesitating next to Blair’s sleeping face. “She’s too perfect.”
I swooned.
“You need to tell her that,” I informed him.
He nodded with a frown, but quickly adjusted as he moved up to Jimmy.
“This fucker could use improvements,” he grinned, getting to work on his latest masterpiece.
I smiled over at them, admiring the way that Brian adored Jimmy.
“He’s perfect,” I informed Brian. “But he’d definitely be even better with a curly moustache.”
“I’m on it!” Brian laughed.
With the trio sleeping and Brian and I satisfied with our Picasso-worthy work, we eventually sodded off to bed. We waved awkwardly at one another, knowing we’d bridged yet another divide on the winding road to a meaningful friendship.
I, like Brian, was feeling lucky.

Notes

The fact that this has hit 108 chapters is fucking astounding to me.

The end is in sight, but not quite near enough that I won't have to keep typing out insanely long chapter titles...Hm.

xx