stevie hopkins
- april 26, 2018 -

I GRABBED A GLASS FROM the cupboard. My phone buzzed for what seemed to be the millionth time that day, but to hell with everyone. Turning the glass over in my palm, I stopped to look at my boot through it.

            The word 'surgery' flashed through my mind. Surgery wasn't in the plan. It was so far from the plan that I almost had to laugh. My grip on the glass tightened. Screaming, I threw it as hard as I could. It shattered; pieces of glass littered the floor of my apartment.

            I crumbled to my kitchen floor. I was tired of the confusion. Tired of all the worry. I was just so damn exhausted.

            My face hid in the palm of my hands. I knew I was crying, but I wasn't really crying; I was sobbing. I felt so incredibly useless. Everything was out of my control now. As if Life and Fate were playing some cruel trick on me.

            Dangling a sense of control and security in my face and then ripping it away. I barely understood these feelings and now it was all that seemed to consume my life.

            When did I become one of those girls that dropped everything as soon as they got involved with someone? When was the last time I even tried to reach out to Ethan?

            Hell, I couldn't even think about the last time we had a real conversation with each other.

            It was almost as if on cue that my phone started to ring again. I took a moment and let myself breathe. Pulling myself up off the floor, I looked at the screen before I answered.

            "Ethan, hey." I was hoping that forcing a smile would make my voice come out more cheerful, but it only managed to sound even more hollow.

            "I've been trying to reach you all day," he paused. "Wait, what's wrong? You're never this unreachable. Well, you didn't used to be. Not to me anyways."

            "Ethan, I—"

            "No," he sighed, "I didn't mean it to come out like that. I'm sorry. That's really not what I meant. I'm so happy for you, Stevie. I am. I just miss you is all. How can I not? You're my best friend."

            A knot twisted in my stomach. I had been prioritizing Chelsea over Ethan. I've been doing it a lot lately, it's true. Obviously not on purpose, but now that it was brought to my attention, all the times I'd chosen her over him was hitting me like a train. How could I simply drop him the way I had?

            We'd been friends since kindergarten. We've both dated before and that had never happened. We always put each other first. Every single time.

            "I'm so sorry."

            "Please," I could practically hear him shaking his head, "don't be sorry. It's okay. I understand."

            "No, it's not okay. We come first. You know that. Because it's me and you."

            He chuckled, "Cause I'm with you till the end of the line."

            I laughed, but it felt so strange. Like my voice was sore and raw. I hadn't screamed, but it still wasn't right, "It's bad enough you made me sit through that movie, but now you're mocking me with it."

            "I wouldn't say mock. I'd say, encourage. I swear everyone loves marvel, but you."

            "It's not that I don't like it, but love is a strong word."

            There was a long pause between us, "Anyways... Are you ready to talk about whatever it is?"

            I shook my head. I knew he couldn't see me, but it was meant to be done, "I don't know."

            "Why don't you let me take you out? Just me and you. The dynamic duo at it again! Back and better than ever! Out to conquer the world!"

            "Actually, that sounds really nice."

            "Great." A knock echoed through my apartment, "Because I'm outside."

            I laughed, but didn't hang up the phone. Bolting to the door, I ripped it open and there he was with lengthy arms and shaggy hair. I threw myself at him. His arms wrapped around me in a tight embrace. It felt like home.

            Him, I knew. Him, I understood. When I understood absolutely nothing that was happening, I understood him. I knew he'd always catch me if I fell and I'd fallen hard. I fell for Chelsea and I fell in life.

            I'd probably win a million dollars before I'd be able to stand on solid ground again. But Ethan, my best friend, he was my solid ground. He always has been and somehow, I'd forgotten that along the way. With his arms around me, I cried.

            It wasn't pretty. I got tear marks on his shirt and in all honesty probably a little not, but he just held me tighter. His hand rubbed up and down my back slowly. I remember when the first girl I ever dated broke my heart. We were in almost the exact same position, but we were younger then.

            So naïve to think that heartache was the only thing that could shatter a person's whole world. Hell, sometimes it felt if my world had shattered multiple times. I had a feeling it was far from over. I think it'll shatter multiple times more before I'm truly done.

            He bent back and picked me up off the ground. My arms tightened around his neck, but a laugh escaped me. That's when he spun.

            "Come on," he set me back down, "we're going to have some fun tonight. How's that sound?"

            "Yes," I wiped my eyes, "that sounds great."

            "Good," he smiled, gesturing back inside. "Did you want to freshen up? I mean, personally, I like the look we're going for with the running mascara and red face, but that's just me."

            Rolling my eyes, I pushed him away. He laughed, but followed me back inside so I could change and clean myself up. It wasn't much. Just a new shirt and a wash of the face. Who knew a fresh shirt could do wonders for a girl.

            When we walked into The Corner Bar the place looked almost deserted. The bartender glanced our way, taking his attention away from the redhead and the brunette sharing drinks at the bar. He waved and walked up to the bar where we sat on the other side.

            "Good afternoon. The name's Taylor. What can I get started for you?"

            Ethan looked at me and turned back to the bartender, "Shots. Any kind of shots you want to make us."

            "Lucky for you. I have the shot master here with me tonight." The man named Taylor leaned back against the bar and hollered to the other side, "James, I need shots for these two."

            The brunette looked away and gave us a quick once over. I swear he barely even looked at us before telling Taylor what to make us. We could even hear the remark that it's what we looked like we needed. If we were being honest, any kind of alcohol is what we needed.

            "I went to the doctor the other day." That got Ethan's attention pretty quickly.

            "Alone?"

            I shrugged my shoulders, "Yeah. I guess I'm kind of glad too."

            Nudging me, his brows knitted together, "I can't help you get through this if you don't tell me what's going on."

            I looked down at the bar in front of us and closed my eyes for just a moment, "I might have to get surgery for my foot. The doctor said that even in my boot, I've been too active on it. He wants to give it a little more time, but if it continues like this, I'll need surgery to fix it."

            "That's okay," he planted a hand on my shoulder. "We'll get through that too. We've gotten through more than this, haven't we?"

            "Yeah," I smiled and nodded. "We have."

            Ethan grabbed the shots and passed one to me. He winked, knocking the drink back easily. He shouldn't be able to do that so easily. I laughed. I guess maybe I'd missed more than I thought I had.

            I took a deep breath and threw back the shot. The burn hit me worse than I hoped. Putting the glass down on the bar, I instantly stared coughing. Ethan laughed and patted my back. It really didn't help the situation, but I caught myself laughing in between the coughs.

            We were there for what seemed like minutes, but with the amount of dishes in front of us, it was probably more like hours. Taylor leaned against the bar in front of us with a toothpick hanging from his lips and he cracked one joke after the other. Few people had come through since we'd sat down; barely a handful really.

            My phone rang in my pocket and when I pulled it out, I almost fell off the bar stool altogether which sent me into another fit of laughter. I had to close one eye so I could actually see one phone in my hand and not two. Chelsea's face filled my screen. I smiled instantly and answered.

            "Chels! Hey!" I heard her talking, but she sounded so far away, "What? I can't hear you!"

            "Where are you?" I swear, her voice almost sobered me up right there.

            "I'm out with Ethan. My man. My man, Ethan." I laughed.

            There was a long pause on the other side of the phone, "Are you drunk?"

            "Yes, Ma'am." My tongue wanted to hold onto that 's' longer than it should have. I sounded like a snake. Ethan chuckled next to me.

            "That explains it."

            "What? What doth it explain?" I thrusted my finger into the air.

            "You missed my poetry reading. The competition I entered. I told you about it last week. You promised you'd be here."

            "There. I'll be there." I stopped and looked around, "Be where again?"

            "Just forget it, Stevie."

            "Forget what?"

            "Looks like you already have," she snapped. "When you decide to sober up, call me. Preferably tomorrow. I'm going out with some friends to celebrate right now. I'll talk to you later."

            Before I could even open my mouth to speak, she was gone. There was nothing, but the sound of a dial tone in my ear.

            "Trouble on the homefront?" Ethan asked, but when I looked up he was swimming in my vision.

            "I missed her poetry competition."

            "I'm sure it's not that bad. When you explain everything later."

            I hopped from the stool. Grabbing the bar and Ethan's arm, I saved myself from face planting on the concrete ground. I laid against him. The rush of the day had worn off and all I wanted to do now was sleep.

            "I want to go home," I mumbled into his shoulder.

            He stood and practically picked me up with one arm, but my feet were still touching the ground somehow. Barely touching, but they were touching, "Then let's get you home before we cause any more trouble."