When I get out of class, I think my last one of the day, I walk to my car and head straight to Joe’s Liquor. When I walk in, I don’t browse or pretend anymore that I’m there for anything but some drink. I go to the counter and ask for a pack of condoms and two bottles of whiskey. He doesn’t ask for my ID anymore; I don’t wonder why, I’m just another kid to him. I take out my wallet and hand him a fifty, he gives me my change and I leave with my brown bag.

When I get into my car I turn the radio on and take the wrapper off the first bottle. I drink from it, taking swig after swig till a quarter is gone. I don’t move, sit there for a few minutes, I can feel it working, starting to feel the warmth again and I am so relieved. I light up a cigarette and lower a window.

I start the car and pull out of the lot, heading up the street toward my apartment, but decide to make a right on Blaine. I don’t know where I’m going, but I don’t care either. I just don’t want to go home. As I pass the school I see other students going to and from campus. A twinge of envy in my chest.

I look at the dashboard and it’s after six, beginning to get dark, but not dark enough. I pass by the other liquor stores, the pay-by-the-hour motels, notice a couple going into a room at the Starlight. I’m at a stoplight and tempted to take another swig but I don’t. Not yet.

I keep driving when I get a text from Ian, I think it’s Ian, and he wants me to go over. I don’t really think about it, just keep driving, getting onto Magnolia, and before I realize it I’m parked in front of his house. I stare at the phone for a few minutes, hoping someone will call, maybe Marina, maybe Patrick, but it doesn’t. I get another text from him.

“Are you here?”

I am. I go in, the golden light fading behind me.

–

I wake up and my mouth and throat are dry. All of my cigarettes are gone and my bottle’s empty. I don’t remember finishing it. I’m home.

The sun’s overhead, so I check my phone and confirm it’s around noon. I missed class again. I stand up, stretch my neck, arms, feel the balcony chair’s imprint on the back of my neck.

I slide the door open and go to the kitchen, find a glass and get a drink of water. I pour myself more and my mouth no longer feels like paper. I strip and head to the bathroom to take a piss. I stand there and see that my urine is almost orange, it doesn’t smell like piss, and when I smell the alcohol, I wonder for a second how much Jack I had.

I just need more water.

I take a quick shower, and after I dry myself off, I pull on some boxers, head to the living room and lay on the couch, stare at the ceiling, wait for something to do.