Inferno Anthology

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Inferno Anthology Page 33

by Gow, Kailin


  “You look fine; we’re going to be late,” she said, fixing her long blond bangs that hung across her forehead. Nicole had recently grown out her hair. At one time, she cut it above her shoulders. It was cute, but I liked it long like she had it now. She wore it tonight with soft curls, a light spritz of hairspray, and it hung a little past her shoulders.

  “How can I be late to my own party?” I chuckled and rolled my eyes at her.

  Nicole hated to be late. I, on the other hand, could stand to be five minutes late, especially when it was my party. Not like they could start without me. Growing up, I was always running late since I had to make sure my sister, Bailee, was ready and on time wherever she needed to be.

  “Whatever, let’s go. I’m hungry, and you know how I get when I’m hungry,” she pouted, walking back down the hall, swishing her hips in jeans similar to mine towards the front door.

  I took one final look in the mirror, straightening out my sequined black tank top that I had paired with the bedazzled boot cut jeans and black platform heels. Checking to make sure my smoky grey eye shadow was a perfect contrast to my green eyes, I ran my hands through the flat-ironed, dark brown hair that hung to the middle of my back, giving it a little volume, and turned to meet Nicole in the living room.

  “Wait,” I said, turning around to go back to my room. “Did you remember to bring socks?”

  “Shit, no.” Nicole followed me down the hall. “I still can’t believe you want to go bowling for your birthday. We aren’t ten; we should go clubbing or something.”

  “I’ve already told you that I have always wanted to have a bowling party as a kid, but I never got one. Plus, we go out almost every weekend anyway. I just want to go to dinner with my closest friends and get competitive with a few rounds of bowling. I want something different.”

  I always asked my mom to throw me a bowling party…when she was in town for my birthday, that was…but she never did. She was always out of town on “business” and left my sister and me to fend for ourselves. It wasn’t business trips that she was on though. When I was in the ninth grade, I found out that they were trips with boyfriends to lavish places.

  The first time she went on a trip, I had just turned thirteen and my sister was six. I walked home from school to find a note left by my mom on the kitchen table with a hundred dollars to feed my sister and me for a week. I had no idea how to take care of a six-year-old, let alone myself. That was the day I became an adult and stopped being just a teenager. That day, I became a nurturer; someone who always makes sure another person came before themselves.

  My mother always had a way with men. She could make them do whatever she wanted—like buy her gifts and take her to tropical islands with them. The downside of her plan was that she left my sister and me alone. She never took us with her or introduced us to her companions, but she always brought us back a gift to try to make up for her being gone. Even after I found out about the men, she still told me that they were “business trips”. Little did she know that I would stand outside her bedroom door and listen to her on the phone.

  Of course, through doing that, I learned about phone sex. At fourteen, you knew what sex was, but you didn’t need to hear your mother pretending to have sex. I never told her that I listened to her a few times. If she was going to hide things from me, I was going to do the same back.

  As for my father…what father? My mother had no idea who he was, so how would I know? Not having a loving set of parents when I was growing up probably mapped out why I chose to find a job as a paralegal in Family Law. I didn’t do it for the divorces; I did it for the children. They were too innocent and needed to have someone unbiased fighting for them and what they deserved. I loved my job. I loved my co-workers aside from my pompous boss. Who was having an affair with one of our clients. Thank God, he didn’t have children with his current wife. I’m not sure I would be able to help represent him during his divorce—when that happens.

  “Jared, are you ready?” I asked, walking into the living room to see him sitting on the couch with his headphones on, playing Call of Duty—still.

  “Yeah, we’re almost done,” he said, his blue eyes never looking away from the fifty-inch TV. He continued to talk to his online friends through his headset as if Nicole and I weren’t standing there waiting for him with our hands on our hips.

  I was surprised he heard me while he was wearing his giant gaming headphones with a microphone attached. Of course, Jared wasn’t ready to go on time. His life revolved around video games—especially Call of Duty. At first, it bugged me, but over the past four years, I realized that it could be worse. Nicole and I went out on Friday and Saturday nights and did our own thing while he stayed at home and played with his online friends. I guess it was better than him being out in bars with chicks hanging all over him.

  Yes, Nicole and I usually have guys hanging all over us whenever we hit the dance floor together if we go out clubbing, but I would never cheat on Jared. I don’t think he would ever cheat on me either, but I have to admit that I do take comfort in knowing for sure that he is home and not cheating.

  “He’ll just be a minute,” I said to Nicole as she waited as patiently as she could, turning to go sit at my dining room table.

  “Figures,” she sighed as she grabbed her phone from her purse and began to scroll through it. “Let’s just go without him.”

  “I’m not going to my birthday party without my boyfriend,” I said, shaking my head at her.

  Nicole wasn’t a patient person. That was probably why we had been such good friends for so long. She took care of me by not letting people walk all over me, and I took care of her like an older sister…even though we were only a few months apart. Her parents had a healthy marriage, at least from the outside. You never knew what really went on in other people’s lives, and she never told me otherwise.

  We waited another fifteen minutes for Jared. Nicole wasn’t happy until I distracted her by shoving a shot of tequila in her face, her hazel eyes growing wide with approval. I figured we could take a birthday shot while he finished “saving the world”—a never ending effort that took up ninety percent of his life. You would think I was the other ten, huh? I didn’t think so.

  *~*~*

  We finally arrived at the Cheesecake Factory about a half an hour later and met up with our friends. Todd and Brandi, another couple that we are friends with, bought me my first drink of the night. After finishing off our meals followed by enough cheesecake to make us want to unbutton our pants, we made our way to the nearby bowling alley.

  Three of our friends who couldn’t make it to dinner were there to meet us, and we began a game of girls versus boys. Unfortunately, for me, I wasn’t on my game that night. Usually I could throw a few strikes or at least a spare, but something was off. Of course, bowling and alcohol weren’t a good combination, but I had bowled my worst score ever.

  After the game of girls versus boys, my friend, Tonia, and I went in search of the restroom to freshen up. Nicole was busy flirting with one of my co-workers who she met at my office’s holiday party a few months prior, and I didn’t want to interrupt her. She had been asking about Mike nonstop ever since then, and once she found out he was coming to my birthday party, I think she’d been looking forward to this night more than I had.

  As I washed my hands and checked myself out in the mirror, I was surprised to see that I still looked good. I thought for sure that my make-up would be running, I was sweating from all the physical exertion…and maybe the alcohol.

  “Let’s get another drink before we go back,” I said, drying my hands and fluffing my hair.

  “Let’s,” Tonia agreed, smoothing down her short, black hair.

  Tonia was beautiful inside and out. She was one of the sweetest people I knew, and physically, she reminded me of Storm from the X-Men movies. We met while we were both in school to become paralegals, but she moved to another town after we graduated, and we rarely hung out anymore.

  We walked to th
e bar and, for a split second, my heart sank. A brunette was leaning on the bar, turned towards Jared, touching his arm and he was smiling while talking to her.

  That tramp just touched my man!

  Tonia moved over to the far end of the bar to order us another round of drinks, but my eyes stayed glued on the pair, curious of what they were talking about. Jared wasn’t a very social person outside of his gaming shenanigans. I mean, yeah, he had friends, and I wasn’t his first girlfriend, but he was just a homebody, and I was a little shocked to see him socializing…and with a girl, nonetheless.

  I stayed back, watching the two—curious of what Jared was doing. After all, it was my birthday and he was flirting with someone in plain sight. As I watched them, waiting for Tonia to return with my drink, the girl took Jared’s phone and then returned it to him after a few seconds.

  Did she just give him her number?

  “Hey!” I said brightly, wrapping my arms around his waist in a tight hug. I nuzzled his neck and then tucked my chin over his shoulder as my eyes shot daggers at the tramp.

  Okay, to be fair, I didn’t know if she was a tramp or not, but she needed to back the fuck off because alcohol made me feisty.

  “Oh hey, Brooke,” he said, looking over to the brunette like he had just been caught. “This is Tarah. Tarah, this is my…girlfriend, Brooke,” his hand motioned between me and Tarah.

  Believe me, the pause before my “title” didn’t go unnoticed, even though I had been drinking a lot, and the way he said “girlfriend” made me want to punch him in the face for being a jackass.

  “Oh,” Tarah said, looking a little surprised.

  I really didn’t know what to make of the situation, which had quickly turned awkward. Tarah’s expression and tone surprised me, too. I never thought that Jared had a wandering eye, and I never thought he would be willing to cheat on me. He never left our apartment unless it was to go to work or the gym with his friends. Yet here I stood now, feeling uneasy and a little insecure.

  I didn’t know if I was supposed to be polite in this scenario. I mean, this tramp obviously wanted my man—that was clear. They say “kill with kindness”, but really I wanted to kill her, period. Okay, maybe not really kill her, but I wanted to punch her in the fucking face after I punched Jared. Hmmm, maybe what people said about discovering who you really are at thirty was true. Maybe I was supposed to kick some motherfucking ass and stop letting people use me.

  Deciding to stick with the “killing her with kindness” shit for now, I stuck out my hand. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you. I didn’t know Jared had a friend named Tarah.” Alright, maybe there was a hint of sarcasm in my voice. Who could blame me?

  “Oh, we just met,” she purred.

  “Oh, well, not to steal your new friend, but our friends are waiting to start the next game.” This time there was definitely heavy sarcasm in my voice.

  Jared turned in his seat and stood, disentangling himself from my arms as he gave Tarah the Tramp an apologetic smile.

  What. The. Fuck?

  Tonia joined me as I turned to head back to our lane with Jared following behind.

  “What was that all about?” she whispered close to my ear as she handed me a Peach Long Island Iced Tea.

  “Tramps,” I replied. She knew what I meant and didn’t need me to tell her the whole story.

  After the boys beat the girls at a few games, we decided to switch things up and created co-ed teams, but it didn’t make any difference; my team still lost. I was pissed, but easily forgot about it when I took a sip of my liquid courage. Over the course of the night, several of my friends bought me fishbowl-sized drinks, and I was feeling pretty damn happy. So happy I couldn’t shut up. I talked and talked, forgetting about tramps and sucking at bowling. Then, finally, the night was over, and I was stumbling to the car with Nicole not far behind me on the drunken scale.

  “I’m hungry,” I slurred as Jared drove us home.

  “I can make you something when we get home,” Jared replied.

  “I want Taco Bell.”

  “Yeah, let’s go to Taco Bell!” Nicole shouted from the backseat, giving a little clap as well.

  “No wait, I want donuts. Where can we get donuts?”

  “Oh, donuts sound yummy,” Nicole concurred.

  “I think you two just need to sleep,” Jared said, crushing our dreams of Taco Bell and donuts.

  “No, I’m pretty sure I want Taco…oh God, I think I’m gonna be sick,” I said, rolling down the window of my SUV for some cool air.

  The cool, February night air wisped across my face, making me feel slightly better. I could usually hold my alcohol. It was rare that I was ever drunk enough to throw up or be hung-over the next day. Of course, that probably had something to do with me always being the designated driver.

  I sat with the winter air flowing through my hair as I leaned on the windowsill and started to drift off to sleep. “Don’t forget tacos and donuts,” I said to Jared in a hushed voice as I fell asleep.

  *~*~*

  “Brooke, wake up. We’re home,” Jared said, shaking my left arm from the driver’s side.

  “I don’t want to!” I shouted at him.

  “Why the fuck are you yelling?” Nicole asked, finally waking up herself.

  “We’re home, time to get out of the car,” Jared replied.

  I fiddled with my seatbelt for a few seconds until it finally sprang open. Jared came around to the passenger side door, opening it before grabbing my hand to lead me out. Walking up a flight of stairs was really hard when you were drunk, I learned as I almost fell three times going up the thirteen steps.

  “Yep, I’m pretty sure I’m going to be sick,” I said as he led me to our bedroom.

  “I’m going to go get you some water and make sure Nicole is settled on the couch,” he said after making sure I made it to our bed okay.

  As I lay on our queen-size bed, remembering how much fun I had finally having my bowling party, a wave of nausea hit me like a ton of bricks—bricks I wanted to throw at tramps.

  I was sick.

  So sick I barely made it to the bathroom before the evening’s dinner came up with the tremendous amount of booze I had drunk. I didn’t remember much of anything after that. I later found out, I passed out where I was, sprawled on the bathroom floor in my pajama pants and the sequined tank top I wore that night with my arm draped over my head, shielding the bright light overhead.

  Of course, Jared took a picture of this.

  One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor.

  *~*~*

  Sun seeped through my bedroom blinds as I somehow woke up in our bed the next morning with Jared next to me and my head pounding. Fucking hangovers. This was why I never drank that much.

  “Happy Birthday,” Jared said as he rolled over to lie face to face with me.

  “Thank you,” I said as I smiled.

  “I forgot to tell you after midnight before you went to bed…I mean, passed out in the bathroom.”

  “Don’t remind me,” I groaned. My head was really pounding, and my right arm and shoulder were sore…well, basically my whole right side was sore from bowling.

  “What do you want to do today?”

  “Lay here.”

  Why did I drink so much last night? Now I didn’t want to do anything on my actual birthday.

  “Happy Birthday!” Nicole screamed, running and jumping on the bed like a little kid on Christmas morning wanting to wake their parents. At least that was what I saw in movies. My mom shipped me and my sister off to Arizona to my grandparents for the holidays when we were growing up—because she had a “business trip”, of course.

  “Oh my God, if you don’t shut the fuck up, I am going to punch you in the fucking face!” I shouted back at her, only to make my head hurt that much more.

  I groaned into my pillow as Jared laughed. “Brooke’s hung-over.”

  “Well, I want to go to breakfast, so get your ass up. It’s your birthday, and I’m not lett
ing you stay in bed all day. This is not how you are going to start your dirty thirties.”

  “Fuck you, don’t remind me!”

  “It’s not my fault you’re older than me.” Nicole laughed, walking out of the room.

  Fuck me, I was thirty. Where had the time gone? I swear it was just yesterday I was in high school, and Nicole and I were ditching class to go shopping.

  *~*~*

  “How are you not hung-over?” I asked Nicole when I finally made it out to the living room after getting dressed.

  “I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “You ready so we can go to breakfast now?”

  After drinking a glass of water and taking a handful of aspirin, I drove with Nicole and Jared down the street from our apartment for breakfast at Denny’s. My sister, Bailee, called me on the way to Denny’s to wish me a happy birthday.

  I hadn’t seen Bailee since her winter break from Berkeley. I was proud of her. I was a bit jealous that she was able to go to college when I hadn’t, but at least I raised her right. When she told me almost four years ago that she was leaving Boston to go to sunny California, I was crushed. I felt like my own daughter was leaving since I practically raised her since she was six—no, scratch that. I did raise her. My mother shouldn’t get credit for being a parent when she was only home a few weeks out of the year.

  Not only did Bailee call to wish me a happy birthday, but she also called to tell me that she and her friends were planning on going to Cabo for Spring Break instead of coming home. Having Bailee tell me that I wasn’t going to see her until the summer was not a very good birthday present and made me more sick to my stomach. Nothing sounded good except pitch darkness and my bed.

  “I’m not hungry,” I said, pushing my menu away from me.

  “What happened to tacos and donuts?” Jared smiled, acting like he was the funniest person in the world.

  “Eww, if you mention that again, I’m going to throw up all over you,” I said, pointing at him.

  Jared and Nicole both thought it was funny. Yeah, okay, they rarely saw me like this, but it was my fucking birthday, and I wasn’t against punching both of them in the face. Yes—yes, my thirties were making me angry.

 

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