Flaws

"I can be your trap. "

My eyes blurred and everything was blended together. Yet with full on determination, I searched for the number of the white house. I used the trial and error method.

"Is this the white house? What? No, can I speak to Donald?" I shouted into the phone. "Hello? Hi. I just wanted to ask Donald Trump a question."

Caden was poking me non-stop interrupting my very serious conversation with a not so happy old lady. "Hold on a second." Turning to Caden I asked, "What? I'm busy."

It was around midnight and we were not okay. Somehow, I had managed to make Caden crazy drunk. I had a few more shots but he had gone through way more whisky bottles than he should have. I don't know how he was standing straight.

"Do you have a mirror?" He slurred.

Looking around, I frowned. "Wait I have one in my pocket." Then I got up and dug into my jeans and gave him a nickel. I looked dead serious in his face. "You look like Thomas Jefferson."

He took the nickel from me. "Thank you, Lina, you're the best." He held the coin like it was a prized possession sent from the gods above.

I turned back to the phone in my hand.

"Hello? Hello?" I yelled into the phone. They hung up the line again. I wanted to ask Donald Trump if the J in his stood for Jasmine.

Too focused on the coin, Caden bumped into the mirror. "Oh. Excuse me." He apologized before going on with his way.

We were a bunch of lunatics.

"Caden! Come here! Hurry!" I shouted for Caden as I climbed the stairs. With that we both trudged up the stairs until we reached the balcony in one of the rooms. I checked that he was beside me. Surely, he would be impressed by what I was about to do.

My eyes looked below us. It was a long way down from the balcony we were standing on. I pulled my phone out of my pocket. After many attempts of me trying to put my phone on airplane mode, I finally succeeded. Next thing you know my phone was flung at the sky; hoping it would take off.

It didn't.

It made a huge shattering sound instead.

"Aw, damn it Lina. You know you can't fly without a license!" Cade slurred. He looked so disappointed in me.

"I can't?" I started to pout, tears threatening to escape my eyes. I was about to cry. "Go, I need some time alone. I'll meet you in the ketchup." I thought I was sobbing but it sounded more like a hyena on crack. I sat there for a while originally planning to wallow in self-pity but then I got too distracted with the way the glowing streetlights.

A half an hour later, I made it downstairs to see empty bottles of whisky. I picked one up, to have another swing. Because that was a good idea. Not knowing there was a bit left inside and I spilt some liquor on my socks successfully wetting them. I was thinking of a way to dry them up when I came up with a brilliant idea.

I then decided that the quickest way to dry them was to microwave them. My hands popped them inside before I sat on the couch waiting for it to start beeping. While I was waiting, I thought I found my phone. When in fact it wasn't mine, it was for the other intoxicated person in the house. Mine was long gone since I failed to transform it into an airplane.

"Who's cooking a sock?" Caden yelled from the kitchen.

"That's my order, waiter!" I exclaimed.

Suddenly the world was tilting, and I dove headfirst into the cushion of the couch.

He hummed in confusion. Struggling to keep his eyes open, he sat himself on the same couch in front of the tv. He offered me one of the socks before putting the other under his head and used it as a pillow to sleep on. His head was a few inches from my thigh. My hand patted his hair.