"It's not love or anything, but I think I like you, too."
― Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club
Damien is a loner. Olivia is a bookworm.
Damien drives a mustang. Olivia rides the bus.
One thing they have in common: Insomnia
Getting to know each other throug...
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Monday night
I gripped the wheel I sped across the road until the light immediately turned red. "Shit!" I stepped on the brake hard, I spotted the street camera on the telephone pole. I breathed out and rested my head on the wheel. Close one. I've been on the road for too long. My head was throbbing.
James was supposed to be awake by now. The doctor's news that there's a 30% chance he would wake up. To pile on more crap, my boss had sold the place to a corporate cash cow that's expanding in the area. "It's a huge payout to pay his debt," he had said and then lifted his arms up in a woo motion. Son of a bitch. We weren't getting paid.
I took out my phone, scrolling through the contacts quickly, Olivia's name was right there. I didn't reply back to her texts or calls. I still didn't even know where we stood. Add onto who I couldn't stop thinking about. Her face and voice has been an earworm, her lips imprinted on mine. I swerved into the oncoming road, I parked in the front.
I knocked on the door. Scruffing my hair as I waited for Pat to answer. Hearing the door unlock and open, in a black tank top and boxers, he rubbed his eyelids. "What's up, man? He asked, squinting and rubbing his eyes.
"You still have more of that pot?" I asked bluntly.
"It's too late for this shit, I'll see you in the morning," he grumpily said.
"I need it now." He sighed, shaking his head and gestured for me to come in. I entered and stood in the middle of his living room.
"I got Oxy." He shut the door, it slammed quickly.
"No Oxy." I removed my jacket, throwing it on his couch, "it's just weed I want." There was no way I was risking oxycontin in my system again.
"Salvia, not weed," he told me.
"Whatever the fuck it is. Give it to me."
"How much do you want?"
"Whatever you got," I shrugged.
"Jesus, I'll be right back." Pat headed into his room, disappearing through the hallway. I felt my phone vibrate, pulling it out of my pocket. Olivia's name was shown on my screen. I pressed the ignore button. Pat came around from his room, with a ziplock baggie in his hand and tied it up with a rubber band. Before handing it to me, he said, "it's not free, man."
I huffed. "How much?"
"30." I got my wallet out, slamming the bills in his palm. I thanked him as he handed me the baggie and sat on his couch.
"Any races this week?" I asked him, taking a pinch with my fingers, and sprinkled it on rolling paper.
"Ray wants a rematch," he said, sounding sleepy.
"Fuck him. Anyone else?"
"Some blonde frat boy from Delta." He took it from my hand, adding more. He rolled it up and brought out his lighter.
