Drowning [29]

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29. Drowning

Ryan

"Really?"

I turned away from the barman, who I'd just finished calling, and glanced at Darren.

"What?" 

He cringed a little, and I realized I'd shouted.

"Ryan... you're drunk, man."

I laughed humorlessly. "Wasn't that the point?"

"Yeah, but..." Darren didn't look me in the eye. I stared at him. I wondered if he knew that he was swaying like a kid on a swing. I put an arm out and he looked down at it like he'd never seen an arm before. Funnily enough, his body wasn't moving despite the fact that he looked like he was about to fall off the barstool.

"Don't fall," I supplied when he went on staring at my arm which I had pressed against his shoulder.

"What?"

"You say I'm the drunk one."

"You are."

"Then why are you lookin' like you're about to go off the barstool." My voice was slurring. Darren looked at me.

"It's you swayin', Ry. Not me." 

I looked at the counter and said nothing. The bartender slid a napkin towards us, two shot glasses. I grabbed one and downed it. Darren picked up his and played with it. I stared at him. Now he was really swaying. In fact, the whole room was. I grabbed onto the lip of the counter, blinking dazedly.

But the rush had returned. And with it came the numbness.

"C'mon, man, lighten up."

Darren sighed. "You ever think..."

"What?"

"Forget it."

"What, what is it?"

"Just... you ever think you should start getting over her? I mean... it's been weeks. And this isn't working for you."

"It's working great," I slurred. Darren's words had brought a stab of sobriety and for some reason, I suddenly wanted to cry. I reached for his shot glass and his hand clamped down on my arm. I tried to shake it off but his grip was like iron.

"No, it's not. This isn't you, man. You're too good for this."

"Get off."

He let go but slid the shot glass out of reach. I curled my hand into a fist.

"I keep thinking this is going to eventually work, that you're going to snap out of it and go back to normal but you don't. You just get worse."

"What are you, like a psych- psyche..." I frowned. I couldn't frame the word even though it'd sounded like such a good line in my head. "Shrink! You think you're a shrink, or something?" 

Darren rolled his eyes.

"Listen, all I'm saying is this: you're losing it."

"Maybe I want to lose it, man, I don't know."

"Ry," Darren grabbed me by the shoulder and I let my head drop to the counter. "Knock it off! Focus, man!"

I stared unseeingly at the swirling lights and faces. The granite counter was hard and gritty beneath my cheekbone. And cold. My eyes slid shut but Darren kept shaking me.

"C'mon, we're leaving."

"No... no."

"Yes, get up." He yanked me upright and I slumped over. "Ryan, would you look at yourself!"

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