I.
It might have been the cold that brought me in.
Diners were never really my thing and neither was sitting alone in a booth staring out of the window like some manic pixie dream girl straight out of an indie film, but I was way too exhausted to even care at this point.
What is my thing is coffee and after asking for my third cup, the waitress settled on placing an entire pot in front of me with a subtle wink. The steam rising up from the mug was almost comforting; even more so when I wrapped my hands around it to warm them up.
Yeah it was just the cold.
There was a lot of laughing towards the back, a lot of shouting from the kitchen, and if I focused real hard I could barely make out the lyrics to Elvis’s “Burning Love.” This particular diner had that feel to it. That 1950’s vintage type aesthetic if the vinyl seats and old school juke box was any indication. It was comforting. Warm. Just like the coffee.
One in the morning wasn’t prime time for caffeine which is probably why the waitress looked at me funny when I asked for a cup. And the next cup. And the next.
I was fucking exhausted. The kind of exhausted where my bones ached and my stomach hurt and everyone around me was moving in slow motion. I felt high. It was almost disappointing that I wasn’t. At least I would know that it would go away at some point. At least I would know it wasn’t going to be an ongoing thing.
But if I was high, I wouldn’t be thinking so fucking much. Thoughts of that damn phone call two days ago had me spiraling.
Down down down.
My mind was in a black hole and there was no getting out of it. There was no escaping it; like I was a prisoner to my own brain.
I’m pretty sure the last time I slept was before the phone call.
Fuck, that wasn’t healthy. Then again, nothing I did was really healthy.
Like my initial desire to get wasted right after I heard the news. Walking in a daze from a long shift, my thumb had been hovering over Jay’s name, the words already on my lips; “Meet me at Lone Wolf.”
It was the lit-up sign of the diner that had caught my attention when I had looked up from my phone and before I knew it, I was pushing the door open and asking for a cup of coffee at nine o’clock at night. The place was nearly deserted and the coffee wasn’t as bad as I was anticipating. I guess that’s why I went back last night, why I came back today.
I either wanted to be drunk in a dive bar with loud music or just alone. Preferably with coffee. It wasn’t like I was going to be sleeping anyway.
I was too fucking anxious for that.
“He’s out.”
Just those two words by a voice I hadn’t heard in almost three years. They were enough to send me spiraling back to…to what?
What I was like before?
Was I really any different?
It was like I somehow convinced myself that I hadn’t still been struggling to get out of bed every day. You can’t spiral down to rock bottom when you were already fucking there.
The last few months, I had the bookshop to keep me occupied. It gave me a reason to actually leave the apartment. Hyper focus. I needed tasks, projects, books. For a while since getting the job, I wasn’t thinking so damn much.
Maybe I had been doing better. And that thought pissed me off more than anything because now it didn’t even matter.
I called in sick today.
I didn’t get out of bed until four in the afternoon.
I managed to shower at six.
Well, at least I got up and showered. That right there felt like a feat in and of itself.
“He’s out.”
Her voice rang in my head like a turn table stuck on a loop. They were the absolute last words I wanted to hear. A mix of that and her fucking voice and I felt dizzy.
With fear.
With anger.
With...with...defeat?
One year. I had just one year left, but somehow that felt like a lifetime.
Even when the year was up, was it still going to be like this? He wouldn’t just give up. He was too desperate for that. He’d find some fucking loophole in the contract.
Jesus Christ.
Despite the caffeine in my system, my head was still pounding. Trembling fingers pressed against my temples and I winced slightly at how cold I still was.
I was just cold. It had been cold for the last few days. That’s the only reason I was in here, the only reason I wasn’t three sheets to the fucking wind right now.
Another dull throb spread across my forehead. I was hoping all of the coffee would have made it go away by now.
Then again, it’s not like I was sleeping or really eating.
When was the last time I even had a glass of water?
Jay would be pissed at me. “You need to take better care of yourself, Aerin.”
It was her trademark phrase when it came to me. I fucking loved her for it. More than I should probably.
I thought about what Jaylin could be doing right now, thought about asking her to join me. I either wanted to be drunk, alone, or with Jaylin. Maybe I relied on her too much, but she was all I had at the moment. She was all I really wanted.
And that was dangerous.
Yeah, I was lonely as hell and Jaylin made me forget how lonely I was when she was around, but she didn’t even know half of the shit show that is my life.
She may have known that sometimes I would stay in bed for days at a time. She may have known that I would go a day with nothing to eat but a granola bar, chastise me for how inattentive I was with myself, and then stare me down until I finally got off my ass and made a meal.
She may have known that sometimes I wondered what it would be like to kiss her.
Shit, I couldn’t ask her to come. She would ask me what’s wrong, try to get me to actually tell her my feelings.
That’s the thing about Jaylin. She was so open and told me everything on her mind. I couldn’t do that.
And I had no idea why.
The thought of talking about it made me so uncomfortable.
I wouldn’t ask her to come. Because then I’d do something stupid like ask her if she wanted to get drinks. I’d get drunk and vulnerable. I might even try to fucking kiss her.
That would ruin everything. She wasn’t even...no, she would run if I did that. She was seeing someone anyway. A man. A good one too.
Dammit, I was still freezing.
My hands clutched the coffee mug tighter, willing some of the warmth to seep through the ceramic and thaw my pale fingertips.
When I looked up from the tabletop, I caught the curious gaze of the guy who had given me a menu earlier. He smiled at me and I attempted to give one back. I’m sure it looked forced.
He must have taken that as an invitation. With long strides he walked over, dark eyes flickering to the almost empty mug. “Want another cup?”
I contemplated for a minute, then shrugged. “Sure.”
His smile was wide. “Comin’ right up.”
I recognized him from the first night I was here. For someone working the graveyard shift at a diner he was incredibly upbeat. He met me with a smile then too.
A tan hand appeared in front of me, placing the same burgundy colored mug down on the table.
“Pulling an all-nighter or something?”
I looked up again and managed another smile that I hope seemed a bit more genuine. He was definitely attractive. Darker skin and black hair meticulously styled back and a tattoo of a lion on his forearm. “Something like that.”
“You live around here? Haven’t seen you in here before.” He cocked his head to the side. “Well, before the other night.”
“Uh, Crown Heights. Was just in the neighborhood the past few nights.” I shrugged as I finished speaking. I wasn’t in the best mood to talk to people, although he was cute and nice and I didn’t want to come off as dismissive. Or maybe I did.
Did I really care how I came off?
If he noticed the disinterest in my voice, he didn’t show it. Instead he grinned again. “Want anything besides the coffee?”
“No thanks.” I reached inside my coat pocket to grab at my wallet, but when I brought it out, he shook his head.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”
“Oh.” I fidgeted uncomfortably. “Thank you.”
Another mega watt smile. “Course. See you around.”
He said it like he knew I would be back again.
Who was I kidding? I already knew I would be back tomorrow night. If I managed to get the fuck out of bed. And that was a big if.
A quick glance at my phone reminded me just how late it was. No text from Jaylin.
Right, because she was with her boyfriend. I couldn’t even be mad about it. He was sweet and she was crazy about him. She deserved it. She deserved to be happy. I sure as hell didn’t want her to worry about me the way she did when she had such a good thing going for her.
Besides, I would be tempted to tell her about the phone call, especially if we ended up drinking. I couldn’t drag her into this. I loved her too much.
The coffee burned my tongue slightly when I went to take a sip. I’d been opting to drink it black lately; definitely not as good, but I had been trying to cut down on sugar. You know, be healthy.
I struggled to hold in a laugh at that. Not like any of that mattered anymore.
Another fifteen minutes rolled by effortlessly as I finished the coffee, staring out of the window like I had been doing the entire time. People walked by with their chins tucked in defense against the chill of the wind. A few groups stumbled past, drunk and laughing.
Part of me was slightly resentful. I really wished I was drunk right now. Alcohol made me warm. Alcohol made me forget. As long as I was sober, the thoughts would keep coming; the thinking wouldn’t stop. A torpid spin cycle of unwanted memories, old fears, and buried feelings that I couldn’t afford to let myself feel.
I had worked so hard to keep them at bay, to throw myself into working and creating.
How long had it been since I picked up my camera? The fact that I had to ask myself that was an answer enough. Too long.
“He’s out.”
My ears were starting to ring. Cold fingers itched to reach for my phone and text Jaylin. I wanted to be alone, but fuck if this loneliness wasn’t killing me right now.
The last few sips of the coffee tasted bitter. It left a film in my mouth as I stood up from the booth and slowly made my way out of the diner. Thoughts of leaving crossed my mind. Leaving New York. It exhausted me just to imagine it. Where would I go? What about Jay?
I was pretty sure I had rum at home. Yeah, rum sounded good. Rum would warm me up. I was still freezing. And despite wondering if I would have it in me to leave the apartment tomorrow, I knew I was definitely going to be here again. I’d just blame it on the cold.
In a slow motion daze, fluorescent lighting and burgundy seats blurred out of focus with the image of the cute waiter raising a hand up in a parting manner barely registering. Faintly, I heard the chorus to “Build Me Up, Buttercup” weaving through the clanking of kitchenware in the back, the lyrics fading away into the biting cold outside as I opened the door and stepped out into the night.
It was just the cold that brought me in.
