Cadaverous Love

Chapter Four

Johnny was right. I could hear the winey country singer before I saw the house. The sun has already set and as I round the corner the lights on the house are almost blinding. I walk up to the door, I'm not exactly sure how to approach this. I peer through the window and see Dallas dancing with a skimpily dressed girl.

I dig through my pockets for a cancer-stick before I open the door, cursing myself wildly in my head as the panic swirls in my stomach. I ignore it. Dallas looks up at me, his eyes wide, I walk up to a guy leaning against the wall.

"Do you have a light?" I hold the cigarette between my lips as he holds out the lighter. "Thanks." I walk past Dallas like he isn't even there, I can feel his eyes on me the whole time as I'm walking to the bar, or rather the line of beer bottles on a counter with a tall guy standing behind it handing the drinks out.

"Hey hot stuff," he says as I take a seat. "Tryin' to get the guys attention over there aren't yah?"

"Maybe."

"Uhuh," he leans over the counter so his face is right next to mine. He takes the cigarette and smokes it, keeping his eyes on me. "You see," he whispers in my ear, "the trick is to do all the little things that will drive him crazy." I take the cigarette back, and blow the smoke out. He leans in a little closer to me, his lips brush behind my ear.

"Hey man, back the hell off." Dallas says as he comes closer to the counter. I stand up.

"Yeah, Dallas what are you going to do?" I say stepping in front of him. I feel a smirk form somewhere within me, and I get why he's so mean, he likes it. "The reason for the fight doesn't really," I pause, as if I'm not sure of what I'm going to say, "match up with your personality."

"The fuck did you just say?" Dallas glares.

I smile and bite back a laugh, "would you like a drink, Dallas?"

"What?" He says bewildered, "sure, I-" I pass a beer to him and take one for myself without hesitation, as if it's something I normally do.

--

"...and then-" he grabs his stomach and let's out another laugh, "he couldn't." I double over in pain because I am laughing so hard. Dallas falls out of his chair onto the floor. We laugh even harder.

"How about another beer for the lady?" I ask gesturing to Dallas sitting on the floor holding his stomach, in a fit of silent laughter.

"Is he okay?" The guy asks, catching my attention and averting my gaze away from the drunk-off-his-rockers Dallas. I rub my eyes, wondering how I'm going to deal with the new mess I've created.

"Yeah," I look over at him, "I think so."

"Okay," he says as holds the beer bottle out. I reach for it, "Wait," he pulls it back. "Don't you think you've had enough?"

"Hey, I think he's right." Dallas says as he leans on the bar stool for help up. "I wanna go home and tell everyone about the prettiest girl I saw today." His words are slurred as he steps closer.

"And who is that, Dallas?" My insides squirm, not too sure that I'm still grateful I didn't drink until I couldn't think straight.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, "It's you." He leans on the bar.

"I thought you didn't like me."

"Like you? I think I'm in love with you." He rubs his eyes. A tinge of shock runs through me.

"Dallas, you're drunk as hell," I say, pulling the beer from his hand. "It's been a day," I note, "if you think harassing me and somehow getting me to like you is love, you are mistaken."