It Takes A Year: Part Four

[Updated: 4/20/17]

As Will laid alone in his bed I was miles away draped over an unfamiliar couch. Drunken bodies decorated the rest of the room, framing my limp form in the center. I heard my phone nip at my thigh three times after I hung up on him. I didn’t flinch a single time. I knew he had probably poured his heart out to me through the screen and I didn’t have the will to illuminate my face with his fractured words. I felt entirely hollow. The only thing filling my senses were the light breaths of the unconscious ones around me and the soft clicking of dishes in the kitchen. I had forgotten that there was at least one other person awake. I traced their footsteps around the house until they finally creaked into the living room.

“You’re still alive huh?”

It was the party hosts’ roommate, Tyler. I’d seen him around my circle a few times and knew him for how chill he was about letting people over. He wasn’t much of a drinker but smoked a lot whenever we were all together. Even from a few feet away I could smell the cigarettes underneath his cologne.

“Barely,” I said with complete honesty.

“Ah. Well I hope you don’t plan on puking on the floor like my brother did. That shit was gross.”

“No, I think I’ll be fine in that department.”

“There’s that at least. Do you want some water though?”

“Umm…Yeah. Water would be good.”

“Coming right up.”

He turned and went back into the kitchen. I listened to him pull down a glass and fill it with water from the fridge. My hand grasped lightly at my pocket, tempted to finally read your messages. I was just about to pull out my phone when he returned.

“I put ice in if that’s okay,” he said, handing the glass to me.

“Yeah that’s fine. Thanks Tyler.”

“No problemo. I’m pretty much the designated baby sitter at this point. Though it looks like all the other kids are knocked.”

“Yeah…” I laughed weakly. Tyler sat in the armchair beside the couch as I took small sips from the glass. He started scrolling through his phone, the illumination bringing his face into view from the darkness. The light in the kitchen crept a couple feet past its threshold, stopping just before the shadows of the living room. I sat there in silence before glancing up at him. He had steel gray eyes and undercut black hair. He looked so young to me.

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