Sailing With Destiny

Liquid Courage

With a frown, I removed the phone from my ear and glanced at the name on the screen to make sure I read correctly. The name read Carly so I was confused as to why I heard Mitchell's voice.

"Mitchell?"

Mitchell let out a heavy breath. "Thank God you're still talking to me."

Either I was losing my mind or my memory but I did not recall Mitchell ever trying to get ahold of me since he stormed out of my apartment. Then why did he make it sound as if I purposely ignored him?

"To succeed at the silent treatment, I'd need you to initiate a conversation at least."

"So -" Mitchell's words were diluted by a groan. "Fuck!" he cursed, followed by a crashing sound. 

If I wasn't upset with him, I would've made a joke about his groaning and cursing. Instead, I frowned and wondered what really happened. "What is going on there?"

"Nothing, a glass slipped from my hand."

"Are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?" I asked out of concern. 

There was a long pause and all I heard was his steady breathing. "You still care..." he whispered. 

I rolled my eyes at his childishness. "Mitchell."

"The glass didn't cut me but I did hurt myself."

I didn't know how to respond but it was a little surprising that he owned up to his mistake. "I love you, Milo, you know that right?" he said in one breath. "I love you so much."

I took a moment to playback his words and tone in my mind and I knew Mitchell well enough to understand that he wasn't completely himself. "Are you drunk?" I glanced at the clock beside my bed. "At six PM on a weekday?"

"You're not listening to me," he whined like a kid. "I just told you how madly in love I am with you're asking if I'm drunk?"

He's drunk.

"Maybe we should talk when you're sober," I stated.

"No, don't go," Mitchell virtually pleaded. "I might've had one or two...or four drinks but I need to talk to you now."

I sighed and couldn't say no, especially since I felt almost as desperate to talk to him as he did. "Why are you using Carly's phone?"

"Because I can't find mine," he replied in a small voice. 

"Since when?"

"This morning. I left home in a rush... but I also left the office in a rush. Where could I have dropped my phone? Maybe it's in the car or dad's office or –"

"You're mumbling," I cut him off. "If you have something to say, say it now or I'm hanging up."

"I deserve your attitude but don't be so mean," Mitchell muttered softly. 

He had way more than four drinks.

"It's been days since I've heard from you, what made you call today?"

Mitchell took in a deep breath and I imagined he ran his fingers frustratingly through his hair merely by his exasperated tone. "Honestly, I didn't have the balls to talk to you."

"Hence the liquid courage," I whispered under my breath.

"I was going to call either way but then I couldn't find my phone and mom left hers on her way out so I grabbed the first opportunity to talk to you."

"But you still made sure you had one too many drinks before you called?" I couldn't keep the bitterness out of my tone. 

I might've come off as bitchy but Mitchell stormed out of my apartment after coldly breaking up with me – at least it sounded like a breakup. I expected him to be more mature and talk to me, not mumble crap while under the influence.