BROWN SKIN | BOOK 1

|| C H A P T E R . 18 ||

There was a difference between sobriety and drunkenness, everyone knew, but I don't think I was drunk enough to pretend this morning was a fallacy and too sober to interpret what was happening. Beau stood by my bedroom door, leaning between the entrance and walking out. His hands were shoved in his pockets and his face was knotted with complicated irritation and intensity. Jewelz was yelling at him which was a first. Apparently, she caught him bringing me to my room last night and thought he was going to use me when my head wasn't clear and my words stuttered.

She was mad enough I was drunk you know.

  — Ebonee

 

"What were you even thinking when you thought this was okay? What was on your mind?"

"I drank because that's what people do!" I displayed my hands out in a fed up manner, "They drink away their sorrows and be foolish one night so then the next day, it won't hurt as much anymore, that's exactly what I was thinking!"

Jewelz wasn't really yelling at me. She wasn't really screaming at Beau. I wasn't really hollering at Jewelz. We were okay. But it turned out to be a mess since the crack of dawn. By the time the post-settlement left unsettlement, Jewelz left the room red-hot boiling, expecting Beau to only leave.

We left.

I left with Beau, Beau left with me without an explanation to Jewelz or ourselves. So we decided without communicating it to each other was more suitable. For now, we needed to run away from situations that were no longer in our control. She might be mad when I get back, but the house felt like a straw; I was being sucked in and needed a released breather.

The poster of R.I.P Clyde stared at me with a smile worth a charm as I left the house.

I still wondered how Beau could see the road with bright car lights flashing and faded road lines.

Beau turned off the engine at a particular destination he was fond of, but it felt like we were in the middle of nowhere—let alone, if we got somewhere. The rain beat a lot harder on the car with drumsticks, orchestrating unrhythmic music. The drops similar to my heart. We didn't say anything through the whole trip since the weather clouded our silence but at least our minds were loud.

"I like you Ebonee."

Beau's raw words cracked in the vehicle but our situation was already broken. Bruised.
I could hear the time he parted his lips and his deep swallow. I should've continued to stare out the window like a 90's black and white music video, but he had me on the tip of his finger. I looked over and his gaze panned out past the steering wheel, thoughts colliding together without direction. I snorted some to get rid of the tension.

"You can like many people."

His eyes met mine and maybe laughing the pain away wasn't a good dose of medicine as the doctors claim.

I think he was pretty impassive because it was easy for me to catch on to emotional words to guess how someone feels but Beau was opaque. I didn't understand.

"Yeah, but this is different," he said.

We needed to break eye contact before I did something regretful, but I wanted him to look away first. He hadn't.

I sighed and allowed the fumes of hurt to build up in my lungs and rolled my eyes pathetically. "I don't get this Beau." I mumbled.

"Get what?"