On the Rocks

            Winnie wanted to take me out to some sweaty, drunk pit that played house music no one had ever heard of. She said it didn’t matter if you knew the song. It mattered if you could feel your heartbeat in your ears and a stranger’s body pushing against yours. See, taking X and sucking on the lips of a sticky weirdo in platform boots made Winnie feel alive. At the end of the night, though, she’d come home and love me. She didn’t love those people, and she definitely didn’t want to open her home to them.

            I turned 21 two months ago, and since then she’s been pushing and pushing about going out together. That’s not me. I like sitting on the couch in ugly, slouchy pants and playing Overwatch. I like making dinner �" tonight it was gonna be soba noodles with sugar snap peas carrots �" and drinking wine. Maybe merlot tonight?

            She stood there in her black leggings and pink sports bra since she’d hit the gym after work. She likes to do that on days she goes out, which was usually Thursday through Sunday.

            “Come on, you never go with me. I want you to meet Kate.” Winnie pulled her hairband out and let her blonde waves fall over her shoulders. Running her fingers through the greasy hair, she stared hard at me with bright green eyes. I didn’t like saying no to her, but she knew those places made me uncomfortable. She perched herself on the edge of the sofa while I leaned back against the pillows.

            “Who’s Kate?”

            She rolled her eyes. “I’ve mentioned her a dozen times. I met her a month ago. She has the cool blue hair. I’ve shown you pictures.”

            “Oh, right, the hair stylist.”
            “Yeah, she’s gonna do my hair for me.”

            I paused, blinking. “The gray? You’re really going through with it?”

            “Well, yeah. Kate says it won’t be so hard since my hair is already so light. If it was dark brown like yours then it’d be almost hopeless.”

            I looked at my phone, biting my tongue.

            “You should meet her!”

            “Why don’t you invite her here for dinner instead of going out?”

            Winnie stood up and walked away. She went into the bedroom and lightly closed the door. Sighing, I got up and went into the kitchen. The small apartment was split in half �" the bedroom and the room I was in, which was half living room and half kitchen. Almost everything Winnie owned was used, bought at thrift stores, and most of it had stains. I could never get the oven clean.

            I usually leave the house just to go to work �" a dry cleaner’s �" or to run errands. I enjoy walking everywhere. I guess you could say that’s how I get my exercise instead of going to the gym. But home �" well, Winnie’s place �" is where I like to be. I didn’t want to go out to some smelly warehouse or whatever. I didn’t want to meet Kate. Winnie’s friend. Winnie had a lot of friends. I walk everywhere, but she likes to get rides from all her friends, at all different times of the day. I think she still works at the dentist’s office, but sometimes when I have a day off, I catch her coming home at odd times. Eleven in the morning, or two in the afternoon. Her hair is always messy, and she avoids my eyes on her way to the shower.

            I love spending nights with her, though, when it’s just the two of us. No awkward moments or mentions of other people. We cook together, talk, kiss. She touches me and looks at me. She knows things, a lot more than I do. I know being with her is a good decision. I’d prefer if she wasn’t so into clubs, but every time I suggest she changes the tiniest bit, the conversation ends. It’s not like I want to control her. Just a little change would be nice. But when she does go out, she always comes home full of energy, spirit, and wild ideas. She talks and talks, the words bubbling over themselves to fall out of her mouth. Her hands move over my body and pull away my shirt, my bra, my underwear. She does whatever she needs with me. Her kisses are explosions of sunshine, a bright laugh following each one. Her skin smells like a hundred strangers, but beneath that I can smell her. Warm and earthy and familiar.

            I put a pot of water on the stove and rinsed the noodles under the faucet. For a few minutes, waiting for the water to boil, I gripped the edge of the sink. Winnie wouldn’t come out until she was ready to leave. She’d skip dinner. She wouldn’t say a word to me.

            I pushed away from the sink and walked to the bedroom door. I could hear her playing music �" Empress Of’s “Kitty Kat.” I knocked twice and opened the door, not waiting for an answer. Her back was to me as she stood staring out the window. We had a s****y view, but up on the twelfth floor it was fun to look down at all the people walking around. I stood in the doorway for a few seconds, but she didn’t say anything. Her phone was blasting from the end table. The lights were off and the sun was setting, edging the room into a murky, navy blue.

            “Win, you know how I feel. I’ve said this before.”

            Nothing.

            “You always want me to go out, but you never even consider doing something I would like to do.”

            “You could always go home if you don’t like it here.” She didn’t turn around.

            It felt like my face contorted, exploded. My eyes went wide and my lips parted. My tongue felt swollen and dead in my mouth. I slammed the door on her.

            In the living room, I shoved the sofa, trying to find my slippers. I stuffed my feet into them and grabbed my phone. As I left the apartment, I ripped my coat off the wall and slammed the door behind me.

            My mind was static, electricity frying any idea of thought, until I reached the street and the sharp, freezing wind hit my face. I didn’t stop walking as I crammed my arms into the sleeves and zipped up the parka. I didn’t even know where to go. I moved to Chicago seven months ago to be with Winnie. I only left the house to work. I didn’t expect this.

            As I walked, I realized we’d never had a real fight before. Was this even a fight? I fucked around with guys in college, but was never in a relationship. What was I doing? I never thought I’d end up arguing with my girlfriend in a strange city with nowhere to go. I didn’t know I could love a woman until I met Winnie. She’d been in Champaign a year and a half ago and knew one of my friends. We all ended up hanging out together, a big group of us, and then Winnie asked me to dinner. I actually blushed and giggled like a fourteen-year-old. She kissed me on the cheek.

            I walked with my head down. The wind blew my loose hair around my neck, across my face. I didn’t look where I was going, but didn’t bump into anything or anyone for three blocks. Then I stopped. There was an Italian restaurant getting ready for the Friday night crowd. Maybe I could go in and get a drink. I moved towards the door, but then realized I didn’t have my wallet. I turned around the corner, heading west, and kept walking.

            After our first dinner, we saw each other every day for five days straight, then she had to head home. I drove up to Chicago to visit her every weekend for three months. My parents finally asked me what I was doing, and I told them I met someone. A girl. They didn’t like that, and cut me off. Now they pretend my brother is their only child. He doesn’t talk to me, either. Summer break was just ending when it happened, and I had no way to continue with school. I dropped out.

            Walking through the chill, I tried to force myself to see the good sides of Winnie. In the past few months, since she started urging me to do so much that I didn’t want to do, I’d become more and more annoyed. It probably showed. Maybe she noticed I wasn’t happy. I had to remember that she let me live with her. She bought me everything. When I started looking for work, she didn’t even want me to do that. But my mind couldn’t help going towards all the bad sides, too. She’s a control freak. I can do what I want within her rules. If I forget to put my shoes in the right place, or if I imply she shouldn’t go out, she quietly ignores me until I apologize. This was the first time she suggested I go back home. She knows that’s not an option. She knows what my parents did.

            Each time I visited, Winnie would beg me to move in, but I didn’t agree for months and months. I moved between friends, tried saving money from working three jobs, but nothing came together. My friends got sick of me. Earlier this year, some of them were graduating and getting jobs. When I finally agreed to move in with Winnie, it was my last option. She knew that. Sometimes I think she resents it. But other times, I feel like she’s excited that she’s my last hope.

            “Hey!”

            I looked up, pulling my hair out of my face. There was a man across the street with heavy scruff looking at me. He was walking with four other men, and they were all dressed in dirty sweats. I could see food stains on the shirt of the man who shouted.

            “Hey, girlie, come here.” His hand squeezed his crotch, and the men laughed. A few whistled.

            I turned away and hurried up the street, but they followed me, crossing the street. I didn’t turn around. I didn’t say anything. No one else was nearby, though the occasional car drove past. I had stumbled into a quiet section of the city and had no idea where I was. There were no shops open, either, except a coffee shop one block ahead.

            “Come back here! Smile for me. Show me something.” More laughter and whistles.

            I barged into the shop. It was crowded and no one noticed me. The warmth of the place made my face melt, and the smell of the coffee mixed with paninis made me almost drool. I hadn’t had my dinner.

            I had no money, though, so I just found a table in the corner, far from the door. A moment went by, and two of the men came through. I felt my body tense, and my fists clenched in my pockets. I stared at the men, but they didn’t look at me. They stood in line to order. The one who’d been shouting at me wasn’t with them.

            I finally looked away, my eyes drifting over the crowd of couples talking and singles typing on laptops. I stared through a large window, into the deepening darkness. The street lights popped on. I don’t know how many minutes passed. I didn’t know when the men would leave, so I sighed and did the one thing I didn’t want to do.

            I quickly selected Winnie from my contacts and called her. She answered on the fourth ring, which told me she considered not answering.

            “Win,” I whispered, “I’m at Pete’s Coffeehouse. A group of men followed me in here. I’m scared to walk home alone. Please come get me.”

            There was a pause. “Do you know you left water boiling on the stove?”

“Oh, I’m... I’m sorry.”

I heard her sigh, a dissatisfied mother.

“I’m scared of these guys. There are two �"”

“I’m going out, Sara. I don’t have time for this.” She hung up.

            I held the phone to my ear for a dozen seconds. My hand trembled. Then I dropped it on the rough wooden table and put my face in my hands. I don’t know how long I sat like that. Tears didn’t come, but my face felt hot.

            “Miss?”

            I jumped and looked around. It was a skinny guy, about my age with ashy brown hair. He had a carafe in his hand.

            “You have to stand in line to order.”

            “Oh, I, um...” I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t order anything.

            He stared at me for a moment, his eyes uncertain, but unforgiving. Then he pointed. I glanced towards the wall. In shiny black and white was a sign that read, “No Loitering.”

            I nodded and stood up, looking over at the men. They were waiting for their drinks now. One of them glanced at me and winked. 

Reviews

[Tony Jordan]

I am not gonna be the one that suggests a mature banner on this - I'm not...I'm not....I'm not...
;D

[Allison]

You really think so? I didn't think it was explicit or anything. :/

[Tony Jordan]

I guess I might have been a bit over-sensitive to the sex scene. (Forgive my dirty mind)
Sorry

[Allison]

That's okay! It's good to have feedback. :)

[Tony Jordan]

Thank you for taking it so graciously. You're an example to many Allison.
Kudos dear poet.