Chapter 5, Old Ways
Oak Ridge, Tennessee
They're actually getting along. Shock. Awe. Christopher's not such a bad guy, David thinks. And how can you dislike someone that actually knows the words to every bad eighties pop song ever written. It's sad really. He knows the calm atmosphere can't last though and around noon that itchy energy begins to grow in his chest. Christopher sleeps for a while, but when he wakes the jokes have died off, and they sit numbly staring out at miles and miles of approaching highway in the gathering dusk. David knows they're in trouble when, on just driving into the city, Christopher announces:
"We should stop at a bar."
David tries to point out the logical flaws with that plan before starting his usual 'I don't drink, what's the point?' argument.
"You're not twenty one. They're not going to give you anything," he says.
"You think I'd get carded?" Christopher asks needlessly. David sighs.
"Yes."
"Man," Christopher moans and slouches in his seat. "I need a drink."
David grips the steering wheel a little tighter, because he knows how Christopher can get, hell, he knows how he can get too, and there's only so many ways this conversation can go. He takes a deep breath.
"Why?"
"Why?" Christopher echoes, as if he's never heard the word before, as if David's just questioned the existence of the entire universe. "Because," he replies and can only think thatan answer as simple as that will be accepted.
"I thought you eased up on that--," David trails off. He hadn't been paying as much attention to Christopher's drinking habits lately. It didn't seem like he'd been drinking as much, but then, maybe he should have been taking better notice.
"Eased up," Christopher agrees, sharp blue eyeswarning David to back off. "Not gave up."
David nods like he accepts this and makes an easy shift into the right lane.
"So why do you need a drink now?"
"Not for any reason you would understand," Christopher sighs.
"Try me," David presses. Christopher ignores this and motions to the next exit.
"Just pull off here," he directs. "I'll get somebody to buy me something at a convenience store." David does as asked, but instead of trying to find a store, he swerves into an empty parking lot and shuts off the car.
"What are you doing?" Christopher questions him.
"What's it look like?"
Christopher leans over and yanks the keys from the ignition, getting in David's face in the process.
"It looks like you're being an annoying jackass. Get out of the car. If you don't want to drive, I will," Christopher spits and then climbs out onto the pitted concrete to prove his point. David stands, albeit slower, and leans across the roof of the car.
"Christopher, I'm just trying to help you."
"I don't need your damn help, David. You need help. Help yourself, and leave me alone," Christopher returns. David makes a mental attempt to shrug off Christopher's comments, but his temper, flaring at best, makes it easier said than done.
"Damn it, Christopher. I'm not the one who can't go two days without a drink."
"Right," Christopher agrees. "And you have much healthier ways of coping. Don't think we can't see."
"See what?"
"That you're just as fucked up as the rest of us," Christopher thunders, making wild hand gestures. "I don't drink," he continues in a high imitation of David. "I don't like girls. Control issues? No way. Hero complex? Not me."
"You think you know me?" David yells back. "You don't know shit."
Christopher smirks. "Yea."
"Okay," David rants. "Here's you. Smart guy, likes to fuck his life up with alcohol because he can't handle when things go right."
"That's fucking genius, David. Who needs a shrink when they've got the Jewish wonder to figure their head out?"
David steps back from the Mazda and shoves the door closed, the echo of its slam reverberating through the open lot.
"You want to make it about that Christopher?"
"Yea, I do," Christopher says and mirrors David's motions, rocking the car with force. "Go ahead," he laughs mockingly. "Call me white. Make a joke. But I'll warn you, it tends to make me real angry."
"You haven't changed at all," David laughs bitterly at his sarcasm. "You're still the same drunk jackass you were two years ago."
"And you're the same Jewish bastard that stole my girl," Christopher spits across the roof. David throws his hands up at this and backs away from the car.
"I never should have come with you."
"I never should have brought you," Christopher returns. David shakes his head, before turning away and heading across the parking lot.
"I'll find my own way home," he mutters.
"Wasn't going to worry," Christopher shouts to his back, though he stands still anyway and watches David's dark form stalk across the parking lot, avoiding puddles, until he disappears into the shadows between two buildings. Only then does Christopher turn and walk away.