A/N: Again, we don't own EEnE.
DOUBLE D'S POV
One cup of black coffee. 0 calories.
Unsweetened apple sauce. 40 calories.
Unsweetened gluten-free oatmeal. 100 calories. I annotate all my nutrition in my caloric journal while I take my supplements.
Multi-vitamin, check. CLA, check. Ayurvedic herbs, check. Estrogen blocker, check. Fat burner, check.
Quite honestly it has gotten to a point where I can simply take a handful of pills simultaneously as opposed to one at a time. I suppose one's body becomes accustomed. There have been times when my body tries to regurgitate all the supplements I take in the morning. When this arises I continue to force more water down my esophagus. Curse my physical fragility!
When I hear footsteps coming down the stairs, I panick and I scurry to hide all of my supplements back in the pantry. I would not want Eddy— or anyone for that matter— to see all of this.
"Morning, Sockhead!" Eddy greets me, wearing a burgundy button-down shirt and loose khakis. His hair is spiked but in a neat style and he smiles, brimming confidence. He indeed looks quite handsome!
"Why good morning, Eddy!" I greet him, gathering my composure from hiding everything.
"What would you like for me to cook you for breakfast? Is there anything in particular that sounds especially palatable?"
To my surprise, he shakes his head. "Just coffee, D. I'm actually running late for who I'm supposed to meet," he explains.
"Why, are you certain, Eddy? It really would my pleasure to cook you breakfast. You are my guest, after all." I smile reassuringly.
"Nah I'm good," he says while I pour him coffee. "It looks like you're gonna hit the gym, huh?"
I look down and forgot that I was displaying my gym clothes. I feel my cheeks go red. "Yes Eddy. After breakfast, I often go and try to obtain some physical activity." Of course that was a bit of a fib. It's not that I often go and get physical activity, but rather that I have to every single day.
Eddy laughs. "The Sockhead I used to know hated working out!"
I chuckle awkwardly. "I suppose we all have the ability to change. Especially after so many pivotal years in adulthood," I point out. I then take a mouthful of oatmeal.
"Yeah I guess," my dear friend responds, finishing his coffee. He looks at his watch. "Look at the time. Gotta get going, Double D."
I nod. "Very well then," I say. I myself am starting to feel anxious, knowing that I have a somewhat rigid schedule and it would behoove me to work out as promptly as possible. "I wish you a prosperous day at work Eddy,"
"Hope ya have a good one too Sockhead," my friend of shorter stature says. He places his mug in the sink and picks up his suitcase and rapidly makes his exit. He opens the front door and with his head over his shoulder yells, "See ya later!"
"See you tonight Eddy," I respond while I close the door behind him.
I sigh, knowing full well of everything that lies ahead for me for the day. Sometimes when I ponder about just all of the tasks that I have on my agenda, it becomes daunting and I have a tendency to become rather anxious. And sometimes my anxiety almost renders me to the point of debilitating myself. Sometimes, but not often. Fortunately enough.
When I finish my oatmeal I drink my preworkout, which is a proprietary blend of even more supplements and stimulants. I have come to the conclusion that my body is actually physically dependent on all of the supplements and stimulates that I take. I can't precisely recall when I knew my body was dependent on all of these chemicals, but I do know that I started experimenting with them in graduate school. See, I felt as though the fat burners gave me more energy to be a full-time student, student teach, and keep a full-time job all at the same time. I suppose weight loss was an added "side affect", if you will. But to be perfectly honest I never have been entirely satisfied with my physique. Instead, I'm rather disgusted when I see myself in the nude. There is more flesh than I truthfully care for. I feel as though the less of myself there is, the better.
I don't particularly enjoy the social aspect of being in a gym and I certainly don't enjoy being seen as I exercise, but some things can't be helped.
I run on the treadmill for a solid hour before heading back home to freshen up before work. The gym locker rooms are a breeding ground for germs, so I choose not to venture into them for longer than I must.
This is another large part of why I don't like to be away from my house for any long length of time. I'd rather not be without my provisions.
.
.
After classes, I bike back home and tidy up the house a bit until Eddy shows up. He arrives with a large case of beer in one of his hands, setting it at the kitchen counter.
"Oh, dear," I say. "I hope you don't plan on drinking all of that tonight!"
He chortles at that. "Jeez, Sockhead. This is nothin'."
"I don't know about that. Just be safe."
"C'mon, Sockhead, at least have one drink with me."
"Sorry, Eddy. I don't enjoy beer or any other carbonated beverages."
He starts pouting. "Come ooon. I wanna have fun with my childhood buddy."
I wish he felt that we could do that without getting inebriated. I don't have any fond memories when it comes to spirits or my inhibitions being lowered without my full consent. I have seen many of my friends act like such dolts after one too many. It is never a look I've envied.
"Perhaps I'll have one," I say hesitantly, not wanting him to think I'm trite and lifeless. I can be lively and pleasant. I'm not always this uptight.
"Atta boy!" Eddy exclaims, clapping me on the back.
I lurch forward, startled. It causes him to erupt into further laughter.
"Dork," he teases, though it's not malicious.
"Why Eddy, you sound a bit like Kevin!" I smile as I slowly take one beer from the 12 pack.
With that he makes a sour face. "Hey, watch it pal," he opens my beer with a can opener on his keychain.
I giggle. "Truly, you know I jest,"
"Yeah yeah," Eddy opens up a beer for himself and doesn't hesitate to drink it.
"Did you have a productive day at work?"
Eddy shrugs. "Meh. Issa job, ya know?"
"Do you wish to tell me that you do not enjoy your occupation Eddy?"
"I mean, learning all about cars is kinda cool. And traveling is cool. But it gets old."
"When you say that 'it gets old', do you mean because there is no stability, geographically speaking?"
Again Eddy shrugs. "Something like that." He looks at my beer and points. "Are ya gonna drink that or what?"
"Oh um, yes!" I realize that I've been holding my libation for quite some time now without drinking it. Gingerly I bring the alcoholic drink to my lips and slowly take a sip. Eddy grins, watching in full amusement.
"Not bad, huh?" He asks. "I love Belgian beers!"
My face contorts while I let the sour taste adjust in my mouth. It's unique, alright. And strong. It definitely seems like something Eddy would prefer, the strong taste resembling his strong personality.
My friend pulls out a chair at the kitchen table and I follow suit, sitting directly across from him.
"So, didja talk to Nazz today?" He asks, taking another swig and it appears as though he's almost finished with this bottle at a very early rate.
"Not today I'm afraid," I respond. "I had many an errand to run. Not to mention my office hours at the university and making preparations for my classes tomorrow," after answering his question I take another drink. I feel my body getting warm, primarily in my torso and stomach. Perhaps this libation is growing on me?
My friend finishes his drink and grabs another from the 12 pack. In less than ten seconds he opens it and takes a large gulp. It's quite evident that my childhood friend has become a heavy drinker, and that he drinks quite often at that. He doesn't even seem the slightest dazed by what he has consumed already.
"So besides Nazz, have ya got any other ladies in your life Casanova?" He smiles that ever mischievous, devilish smile. I feel my cheeks growing red.
"I'm afraid I don't have much to report Eddy," I say tucking my chin. "With my rather hectic schedule, it doesn't leave much time for extra curricular activities,"
My friend rolls his eyes, clearly not hearing the response he was hoping for. "I mean, you haven't been in ANY relationships since we last saw each other?" He asks, digging deeper.
I immediately perspire. Romance is certainly not a subject that I feel comfortable discussing.
"I suppose I have been on a date here and there, but nothing ever transpired of said dates,"
My companion's face deadpans. "Really, Double D?" He retorts sarcastically. "You're acting like you haven't done anything,"
"I'm not quite sure what you're insinuating Eddy," I spat his name sourly, "But is it so wrong to be unexperienced in the realm of romance?!" I feel myself becoming slightly agitated. I almost feel as though he unintentionally tapped into a sore spot. I myself don't fully understand why his last sentence approached me in such a sensitive way...
"Woah, calm down Double D," he holds up one hand, still holding his drink in the other. "I'm just curious and trying to catch up with ya, pal. That's all,"
"I apologize Eddy," I say, quickly catching myself and regaining composure. "Perhaps romance is a sensitive subject for me. That is, with my lack of experience and all," I take a small drink of my beer. "Or perhaps this libation is influencing my emotional state of mind already,"
Eddy smiles at that. "That's totally okay Sockhead," he leans forward and playfully taps me on the shoulder. "Drink up! You need to finish your bottle. I'm way ahead of ya," with that he finishes his second bottle and grabs his third.
I take a much larger gulp, getting closer to the bottom of my bottle. The warming sensation in my body increases and I feel a little light headed. And is it just my imagination, or does Eddy look even more handsome than he did this morning somehow?
"What about you, Eddy?"
"What about me?" He confusingly asks.
"Your romantic adventures," I clarify. "I assume you've had many,"
His face looks reflective and he furrows his eyebrows, much resembling one of my students who is neglecting their homework and clearly isn't comprehending my lecture. He pauses, then he takes another drink, as if the alcohol has all the answers. His facial expression reposes.
"I've had a couple girlfriends," he answers nonchalantly.
"Only a couple, Eddy?" I ask skeptically.
"Yeah, so what?"
I giggle. "Nothing Eddy," I say in between drinks. "I'd assume with your handsome looks and charisma, you wouldn't 'be able to keep them off of you', as you would so eloquently articulate," I cannot help but smile.
He smiles wholeheartedly and then scratches the back of his neck.
"Heh heh," he chuckles nervously. "It's not as easy as you would think pal, since I travel so much. It kinda puts a dent in the dating scene, ya know?"
With that I see a hint of sadness in his big brown eyes, even through his genuine smile.
"I'm very sorry to hear that Eddy," I empathize. "You truly deserve the best. Why, any young lady would be the luckiest person in the world to have you. In my humble opinion, they would truly win the lottery to have you as their life long companion," my eyes widen right after the words leave my mouth and a hand covers my mouth. Oh dear, am I complementing him too much? If so, will he go back to his grandiose, egotistical ways? Perhaps it's the alcoholic influence, the liquid courage. Curse adult libations!
"They would be 'the luckiest person in the world' to have me, huuuuh Double D?" With his lids lowered and one of his thick, high-arched eyebrows lifted, Eddy gives me an especially sly expression.
I perspire more heavily, my face feeling as though it must be on fire.
"W-What I'm trying to express, Eddy, i-is that, I suppose, in a hypothetical situation, t-that is, if the traveling didn't present any restrictions in your personal life whatsoever, i-it could be quite possible, if not probable—"
"You really think that much about me Sockhead?" Eddy interrupts my stammering much to my relief. But the sly expression has left his face, now replaced with that of a more serious one. If anything, it's the expression of bittersweet disbelief.
"Why yes of course," I pause, noticing his expression hasn't changed. Besides, if I'm being truthful, I should stand by what I say. I pause for a moment before asking him, "Don't you believe that about yourself, Eddy?"
His eyes show a tinge of sadness. He doesn't flinch while he locks eyes with me. I feel as though he is conveying so much more in his large, doey brown eyes in this silence than he has verbally expressed to me since the beginning of his stay here in Peach Creek. The irony of it is that it is much more than my dear friend would ever know that I already completely comprehend.
Eddy clears his throat. "I mean, 'course I know that about myself," he flashes a superficial smile and takes a rather long drink. "Once again, yer right Sockhead. Any chick would be crazy lucky to have me as her man," he smiles yet again, feigning confidence.
"And the same thing with you, Sockhead."
"I beg your pardon?" I ask, not sure what Eddy is implying .
"You're a great catch too," he says. "You should put yerself at there more. Ya know, go on more dates!"
"Go on more dates….?" I repeat my friend, but the words sound foreign.
He finishes this beer and opens the next one. "Yeah, why not? Life is short Sockhead,"
"I'm quite awkward at romance," I explain. I reach for another bottle but Eddy quickly grabs one, pops the lid off, and hands it to me, waiting on me to explain myself further. "I find it much easier to avoid it altogether," I confide. My heart beats faster, coming to the realization that I have never told anything this before, ever.
"Why's that?" His voice is filled with confusion.
"Well for one, I'm trying to get more in shape,"
Now he looks overly baffled. "In shape?"
"I would like to lose perhaps ten more pounds," the words leave my mouth quickly. Why in the heavens am I divulging all this information?
"Lose ten more pounds?!" He exclaims loudly in shock. "Double D, yer practically a stick already, fer crying out loud!" He throws a hand up in exasperation.
"I don't believe that I'm thin, Eddy," I snap.
My friend stares at me in disbelief. After a moment he shrugs.
"Whatever, Double D," he relents. He takes a rather large drink of his fourth beer.
"Eddy, isn't that your fourth libation this evening?" I assert myself.
He looks at his beer, then back at me. "So what?"
"You've become quite the drinker I suppose,"
"Compared to you, Sockhead, yeah, sure I am." He quickly takes another swig. "I practically had to beg ya to let loose tonight jus' a little."
"PUH-lease Eddy," I retort. "You didn't beg me. Besides, I never do anything beyond my means, including in engaging in amusement," I giggle. I must digress that this is entrancing! But I feel as though my head is getting as light as a feather.
I continue to giggle until a hiccup interrupts me.
"Oh no," Eddy says. "Not this again,"
"My hi—*HICCUP* aren't as problematic as they were in the past *HICCUP* Eddy,"
He raises a brow. "Geez Sockhead, yer a lightweight! This is only your second beer, ain't it?" He muses.
"I can pace myself *HICCUP* unlike some people," I smile, knowing full well that I'm fibbing.
With that my friend laughs. "Okay suuuuuurree," he replies skeptically.
But perhaps he is correct. I haven't been this inebriated in quite a long time and I am unsure of my limits. The last time I was in such a state must have been at least ten years prior. My teenage years were full of inevitable slip ups, but they were few and far between.
By the time I finish my second drink, my eyes are bleary and my vision is shaky. My mood elevates from once precarious to utterly lackadaisical. When I open my mouth to speak, the words tumble out in the form of long slurs. In the back of my mind, it is like a blister on my dignity, but at the forefront of my current state of mind I can't seem to care.
Eddy starts chuckling. I must have just said something, but I can't recall what it was.
"You good, Sockhead?"
"Absolutely, Eddy."
Yet the words echo languidly, like they're far away. Perhaps I am not entirely okay.