“So, did you talk to Stella?” Mike slipped up next to Justin, who was sitting in the same lawn chair he had slept in last night.
“Yeah, she confirmed it.” Justin took another swig of his beer. He had guzzled down four already, and felt the delay of his vision.
Mike sighed, as if he was feeling Justin’s pain. “How many of those have you had?”
“This is my second,” Justin lied. He didn't need another woman telling him what to do.
“Alright, but I don’t want you having too much…” Mike clanked his glass with Justin’s and walked over to Marissa, his girl of the week.
Before Justin knew it, he was on his seventh, which was more beer than he had ever drunk before. He couldn’t see straight, and kept forgetting where he was. He had wandered out front, and people had come to find him. He called his rescuers his “new best friends.” He strolled around Mike’s one-bedroom, one-floor house, and began to lose himself. He couldn’t find outside. But, he did find a bathroom. He needed it for two reasons, both of them having to do with all that beer.
“Justin!” He heard Mike calling. “Justin, where are you, buddy.”
“Over here, Mike.” Justin could hear the slur of his words, before he heard the screams of Marissa.
“Justin! You’re really pale. Stand up!” Mike tried to hoist Justin’s muscled body off the ground, but he wouldn’t budge. Justin grabbed on to the toilet like his life depended on it.
“No! Leave me! I don’t care anymore.”
“Justin, you need to stop this. You are never going to get Stella back if you keep doing this to yourself.”
“Stella!” Justin yelled into the air. “Stella!” Justin started banging his head on the toilet. Blood dripped from his forehead.
“Justin! Stop it!” Mike slapped Justin across the face.
“Whatwasthatfor?” Justin rubbed the red mark on his left cheek.
“Come on, buddy. Sober up.”
A splash of cold leaked from Justin’s head to his legs. He looked in front of him and dark, long legs were hovering over him. “Stella?”
“No, it’s Marissa.” Justin looked up even farther and saw Marissa holding up a bucket that was dripping with water.
“Leavemealone!” Justin tried to hit Marissa’s leg, but him aim was off and hit the toilet instead.
“Justin, you need help. Let’s get out of the bathroom.”
Justin’s sight became black. He felt the top of his head, and a warm red liquid was gushing on his hand. He began to feel lightheaded, and dropped to the floor. “Where is she?”
“Justin!” Marissa and Mike screamed.
He woke up sandwiched by a warm, slender body on top, and a soft, cushion beneath him. A sweet humming noise acompanied the messing of his hair.
Justin blinked, not believing what he was in front of him. It was a beautiful face, warm blue eyes, perfectly tanned skin, shiny, naturally wavy hair.
“Am I dead?” He smiled, hoping it was true.
“No.” Her hand stroked his hair. He reached to touch it, feeling a bandage along the way. He held the Angels hand close.
“Then why are you here?” Stella wrapped her arms around his back and squeezed him close. She traced his lips with her finger, and kissed his cheek. She ignored his question. “Stella, I’m sorry. You know I have problems, and the last thing I ever want to do is hurt you.”
“I know.”
She tried to pull her hand away from his grasp, but he held on tight. “Please, don’t let go.”
He rubbed his head, hoping the pain would go away. And, after a while, it did. He and Stella cuddled under a blanket on Mikes couch, while Justin told her all her had to say.
“You are the best thing for me. Without you, I just don’t have any hope… and I lose control. Like I did last night. I just don’t know what I am going to do without you.”
“Well,” She kissed him, “You don’t have to worry about that anymore.”
Justin shaped his lips into a smile for the first time that week. “I love you.”
is that the end? it sounds like it.
