Different IRL

Chapter 16

"Why you doing this?" Shy slurred.

"You're drunk, and I'm not. Plus, I know how to drive. Seems the logical choice," I supply.

Shy doesn't say anything else easing his head against the seat, his eyes drifting shut. Luckily for him, I remember how to get back to the city and to where he lives. Something tells me, outside of Alex, he doesn't trust too many people. Carter is definitely on his shit list. In the meantime, I'm just a little confused. Was he mad because Carter was talking to me?

It really doesn't make sense. He seemed pretty cozy with Cassie. Until he saw me, of course. The look on his face seemed to be that of shock and...guilt? There's no reason for him to feel guilty. We're not even together. But, I'm not gonna lie, I didn't like seeing her in his lap. I didn't like seeing his large, inked hands wrapped around her body. Not even I can deny the jealous feelings stabbing my stomach. Ripping the extensions out of her head would have probably felt pretty good. Only problem is, Shy's not my boyfriend. I have no right to feel this way. Gripping the wheel tight, I swallow against the lump in my throat.

When Kiki told me Shy was at the party asking about me, and when she begged me to Uber in, I guess curiosity got the best of me. I wasn't exactly prepared to see another woman in his arms. I'm glad I hadn't dressed up opting for black Champion sweats instead. Sure they kinda make me look like a blob, but that's okay. Nothing wrong with blobs. Plus, Shy didn't really look, look at me like he normally does. His eyes were too glazed over from drinking too much and from whatever else he might have ingested. At least at first he didn't. Eventually he recognized it was me, I think.

Hmm. I wonder if he did anything besides drinking alcohol. Should I stay with him incase he barfs, chokes on it and dies? I wouldn't want to learn he croaked because no one was with him during his inebriation. I could sleep on the couch and check on him every hour or something. Yeah. That's a good plan.

We pull up to his house, and I park outside of the garage unsure if he usually leaves his truck outside. It'll be fine. Just as I'm about to help him out of the vehicle, he surprises me by getting out on his own and heads to the door. Punching in a code, he walks into the darkness.

"My water heater better be fixed. I fucking told them I needed it done today," he mumbles.

Water heater? Is he talking to me? Does he even know I'm here? Closing the door behind me, I deadbolt it and follow him into the living room where he hits the switch on the wall lighting up the room. He shrugs out of his jacket and tosses it to the floor. Okay, Messy Marvin. I pick it up and lay it onto the couch not knowing where his closet is. When I turn to follow him into the kitchen, I nearly trip on his shoes he's kicked off. I'll just move these foot canoes out of the way, thank you very much.

"What is this? A receipt?" he squints down at a yellow piece of paper holding it near then far away from his face. "Good," he throws it down running his hand through his hair before turning to the fridge.

"I'm fuckin' hungry. What the hell did Donovan put in those fucking drinks? I swear to God. Makin' me hallucinate...'n shit. I'm gonna kill 'em," he clears his throat. 

I watch him push the fridge door closed without having grabbed any food. Huh? I thought he was hungry. He turns to face me but looks like he's frozen, not moving or talking. He's just...standing there staring at me and blinking. What the heck? This is so weird. What's happening? What ever is happening, I don't dare move. His behavior is starting to weird me out.

Finally, he moves running his hands through his hair again before jogging up the back stairwell. Oh my lord. Is he possessed? As I follow him, I have to note how agile he is for being so messed up on whatever he's messed up on. Impressive. Not in a good way, but in a bad way. No one should be this light on their feet while messed up.