On The Corner Of 32nd Ave

02. In Which She Returns to 32nd Ave

 Chilly bones were the only two words to describe the feeling of waking up the next morning. I had fallen asleep with the window open and in mid-november that was an awful decision. I had been chilled to the bone and that wasn't even the half of it. There wasn't a single moment of me lying in the bed that I didn't dread getting out of it. I would have to face Carter, Tj and Sierra who had rightfully taken his side. Last night they made a ruckus all to let me know just how wrong I was and how big of a bitch I could be. There wasn't much hope of me getting out of this situation unscathed with friends who still liked me so I stayed in my cold room for a little longer. Avoiding any kind of chaos that could happen from opening my door. I sighed, stood up and started grabbing at my different drawers filled with clothing. I settled on a more than decent outfit, my favorite pair of boots that got me through it all and grabbed my small leather backpack. I pulled my door open smoothly and stepped out. I had already done my routine bright and early before anyone else could possibly stop me to glare or scold me. I crept quietly as I could with my heavy boots on my feet and reached our makeshift living room and kitchen.

Carter was sitting out on the fire escape dangling his feet through where the ladder would fall. He didn't have anything on but a black thermal and a pair of sweatpants. Adorning his hands was a cigarette in one and a beer in the other. His hair looked a mess, falling in every direction blocking most of his face. His high cheekbones looked a little higher meaning he probably hadn't eaten since yesterday afternoon. His tiny frame was hunched over, stuck staring at the concrete-glass jungle we called the small apple. I stood there for a few minutes, going over the pros and cons of going over to the window and having a small talk with him. One where I begged him to stay my best friend and recounted all the times I had helped him out and vice versa.

"Why don't you ever just get out of your own head? You're your own worst enemy." Carter said with a little chuckle. He took a pull of the cigarette and looked up at me. I could see the slight drunken haze he was in and knew this wasn't going to be an easy task to apologize to him. He was an angry drunk. A very angry drunk. All the bad things that the world has done to him gets ten times worse and his pent up rage all explodes on his drunken days.

"It's easier for me to live in my head. It's safer here." I responded to him as I walked over to the wide window that was cracked open. He stared at me patiently and I watched as my words rolled over in his head doing backflips.

"I had a feeling you'd say something stupid like that. The poet in you just can't be quiet." He took another drag of his half-finished cigarette. I sat in the window frame patiently, not too sure of what to say to the drunken mess of a best friend that sat in front of me. Though he looked like he was put together, I was just waiting for the explosion that was inevitably going to happen from my lack of words to him.

"So, you just came over to sit in your misery or what?" He was snippy as he looked at me through his hair. He took another drink of his shitty beer and mowed it over in his mouth before swallowing.

"What's that phrase you always say? Misery loves company or some corny phrase like that. I'm sorry you, fucking drunk asshole. You should know better than anyone that I have a very hard time trying to cope with my feelings for... women. You also know better than anyone that you are more than capable of getting a girl if you really wanted to. It was wrong of me to feed off of your insecurities in such a vicious way. You deserve way better than that." My apology rolled off my tongue quickly and eloquently. It was like a sharp shooter aiming for the heart to make him feel all kinds of better than I previously did. It wasn't much of an apology. But it did make him crack a smile for me.

"Whatever Sabby. You already know that the second those words even left your mouth I had already forgiven you. I was just milking it so you could feel some type of hurt over it. Another reason was so you can realize that your denial is going to be the cause of your unhappiness and even push all of us away if you don't do something about it. Girl, you are a lesbian with a capital mother-fucking L. It's about time you embraced and you loved it. Women are fucking great." He began lifting his drink up to the city sky and I laughed at him. My cheeks warmed up from watching my best friend call me a lesbian with a capital l. It was always an odd feeling that passed through me everytime I thought of myself as a lesbian. A woman that only loved women. It sounded correct the more I thought of it. I was a pussy loving, dyke fucking lesbian. Now, if I keep this energy and cradle it over until I reach the corner of 32nd ave, it would be the biggest blessing possible.