Slipping Under

Chapter Four

The guilt was eating me alive. After Andrew had gone to shower, I'd snuck a beer from the fridge, downing it quickly, I'd regretted it as soon as I opened it, but I couldn't not drink it. I stare at the ceiling in the dark, wanting to tell him so bad. I could hear him snoring softly, his breathing had become rhythmic, and if I hadn't drunk that damn beer and been so ridden with guilt I would've been out like a light.

"Andrew."

"Hmm?"

"I need to tell you something."

"Now?" He whines, turning over, fully facing me now.

"I won't be able to sleep, please don't be mad at me." His eyes open, and I almost regret waking him up.

"What's the matter?"

"I drank."

"What?"

"After you went to shower."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"I see."

"Are you mad?" I bite my lip, scared of what he'd say.

"Of course not, look," He sits up in bed, crossing his arms, "this isn't going to be easy, you're going to slip up, fall even, but that's what I'm here for." I nod my head, not knowing really what to say, "thanks for telling me though."

"I had to. Couldn't sleep."

"What about now?"

"I'll give it a whirl." He smiles, nodding his head.

"Good." He lays back down, settling back in for the night, I close my eyes and listen to the sound of his breathing.

"I love you too, Andrew."

**

The smell of bacon wakes me up and for a minute I swear I'm still dreaming, Andrew didn't cook, well, not well at least, but no one had the heart to tell him. I sit up in bed, reaching for my glasses, I rub my eyes and for once wasn't greeted with a pounding headache. Maybe this whole say goodbye to alcohol was a good thing.

"Andrew?" He peeks his head in, grinning widely,

"Hey, morning!"

"Are you cooking?"

"Trying too." He mutters, running towards the now smoking pan. He waves his hands around as if that would clear the smoke before setting off the smoke alarm. I grab a pillow from the couch, waving it in the air, I open the front door, another attempt to air the place out before the smoke alarm sounded. I peer over Andrew's shoulder, not realizing exactly how close I was to him.

"What, what was that?" I point to the burnt lump in the middle of the now ruined pan, he sighs and tosses the spatula into the sink.

"I think it was an egg... I forgot that you're supposed to crack it before you cook it." I stare at him, not knowing whether or not to believe that Andrew could be that stupid.

"Are you, are you serious?" I scratch the back of my head, backing away.

"I don't need your judgment, Gare," I continue to stare, his brown eyes seemed happy, and light this morning. I raise my hands up, backing down immediately, "how did you sleep?" I walk over to the fridge, forcing myself not to look at the alcohol sitting prettily on the shelf. I reach for the chocolate milk, shutting the fridge quickly, Andrew turns around at the sound of the door slamming shut. "Do you want me to get rid of it?" I know he's talking about the beer and I shake my head no.

"I slept fine," that was a lie, I'd barely slept and still couldn't figure out why, "and, no, I'll take it to Ricky's tonight."

"Really? That's good, Ricky's?" I nod my head, pouring a glass for him and then myself.