The Friday Night Story

[Zen]

The party goers stuck to their cliques with bottles in their hands and cigarettes in their lips. They'd laugh at the jokes just to blend in, becoming just another one with no reason to exist.

I saw this girl on the couch, she sat with her friend. They both looked down at the phones in their hands. Likes on Instagram are like, uh, legit. You would know about that if you weren’t such a loser. (bitch)

There was a guy in the kitchen putting beer in the fridge with his homeboys who look like kids.

“You believe that shit!? Card this, motherfucker.” He put his hand on his dick.

I stepped out onto the porch and lit a smoke, inhaled. The moon, full, hung over us pale. Out in this light, you can see most of us have failed.

There was a cooler on the porch with Bud Light inside.
“Fuck my life.” Sigh.
I drunk it anyway. Pretended it was whiskey. Forgot I had a cigarette. I’d barely hit it any.

I walked out to my truck and there was two texts on my phone.

where are you?

Come out here im alone.

Finished the beer, threw the bottle in the yard. Hopped in the truck and picked up the cigar. Weed, yes, I’ll drive and hit this. Don’t worry. It’s alriiiiight. I’m reckless.

That was dumb.

I’m high now and this truck’s kinda fast, and behind me this jerk-off is riding my ass. POLICE. POLICE. Nah, it’s just some dude. NO, wait! Nah, yeah, it’s just some dude.

I turn onto a backroad where all the houses' nightlights are yellow, and some stupid fucking dog is barking out a window, then I see her driveway. I pull in and kill the lights.

She came outside in a hoodie and shorts because that totally makes sense. She stops at my window,

“Where have you been?”

“Over at Josh’s. He was throwing a party, Karen and him.”

She laughed. “They’re parents with two kids and still don’t act like they don’t care. Stupid…”

I want to tell her she looks good in this light, but I just nod. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Nothing.” She pauses. “You can come in if you’d like.”

Inside was a box set TV too big for the living room playing the reality show where if you’re evicted, you lose.

“You wanna drink?” She asked.

“Yeah, whiskey.”

“Jack or Jim?”

“You choose.” I sat down on the couch and watched some guy on TV get mad because they’re kicking him out.

“Here,” she handed me the glass, and sat down beside me.

“Why do you watch this shit?” I asked, smiling.

“Why do you always get high when you come see me?”

(Fuck me, right?)

“No, really.” She said. “Tell me why.”

“I’m just messing with you. Take it easy.” (it’s gonna be one of those nights)

She got up and went into her bedroom, and for a second I thought, “Good, she’s gone,” but then she came back with her hoodie off. Now she was wearing an Ole Miss T-shirt that was red and white, and sat back down and looked me dead in the eyes.

“Why don’t you care about me?” She said almost crying.

I leaned over to kiss her. She stopped me when I tried.

I sat back and finished my drink.

“Is this how you want to spend a Friday night? Miserable with me?”

“And what do you want? To fuck me and leave?”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” I took the glass to the sink.

“I’m talking to you, god damn it. Answer me.”

I looked at her, her face was red. Her eyes melting with tears.

“You tell me,” I said. “Why the hell am I here?”