Hey, Street started typing his message. He'd thought about sending this message, but now he didn't know what to write. Could he just jump in and write what he wanted or did he have to ease in slowly? He typed the words: we need to talk Stevie's cafe 10am tomorrow?
He turned the corner out of view of the house, and slowed down. His team couldn't see him now. He read and reread the message sat on his phone waiting to be sent. Was it too direct? What else was he going to say? Hi how's your day, no this was his best option. His finger hoovered over the send button; but he didn't press it. What if she said no, or didn't answer? He had to stop over thinking this. Holding his breath he tapped his finger on the circle and watching it flick upwards onto the chat.
Hey, we need to talk Stevie's cafe 10am tomorrow? Appeared under her first message: I'm ok. He watched the chat hoping she would get back to him quickly, but it could take her hours, if she ever replied at all. He checked his phone was on loud and vibrate and tucked it into the back for his jeans again. Realising he couldn't go home now he set off on the walk he really didn't feel like going on.
He'd just decided which way to go at the end of the road when his phoned pinged again: We shouldn't meet, sorry.
His heart sunk. She's shot him down. But she was Chris, she always shot him down at first; right?
Please, we have to talk. It's only coffee :) He sent not sure how a text was going to manage to convince her.
He kept hold of his phone, looking down at it as he slowly made his way down the pavement. The wind picked up as he rounded the corner and he regretted not thinking to pick up a jacket. He'd just crossed his arms for warmth when his phone pinged again. He paused for a second to pray that she hadn't shot him down again.
How are you? All fixed up? She answered him avoiding the subject of coffee all together. What could he do, coffee was off the cards; for now.
Much better, even out walking! How are you? he replied.
Fine, thanks. Glad you're feeling better. Street sighed realising that their conversation had come to a halt and they had barely exchange niceties. He carried on walking oblivious to the wind now. His phone stayed in his hands long after the screen faded to black. He had to think of something to say next, something that led back to coffee.
Then it hit him. It was a terrible idea. He decided it made him a terrible person. Yet he typed the message out anyway. He hated the way the word read on his screen. He hated that he was sinking to this level, but it didn't stop him pressing the send button.
He hate more that she replied straight away agreeing to the meeting 10am at Stevie's cafe.
He turned, heading back to his house. He needed a shower. A layer of dirt had covered him and he needed to scrub the feeling off as quickly as possible. He hit the top of the road and his eyes fell on the corner shop. Gulping he crossed the street heading into the small store. He made a beeline for the hard liquor on the back wall. His eyes went straight to the same bottle she'd brought around to his the night of their first kiss. He pulled it off the shelf and placed it on the counter to pay. He couldn't believe he was doing this.
He'd outright lied to her claiming to have found the bottle in the house and insisted that no one would drink it. He place forty dollars on the counter and told the young store assistant to keep the change. Nothing could make him feel better about this. His stomach dropped as he replayed how quickly she had replied to the message and agreed to meet him. AA meetings were definitely going to be a part of their future.
As he approached his own front door he realised that he hadn't been gone very long and that he was returning with a bottle of whiskey which wouldn't be his choice of drink, which really was the least of his problems if the team saw it. They would be jumping straight into the assumption he wanted to drown his sorrows and write himself off. Instead of walking into the house with it he tucked it deep within a bush on the left of the path. He could retrieve it in the morning on his way out. It should be safe in there until then.
Sealing himself he pushed open the front door trying not to show his dismay as he found everyone still sat around his living room, apparently waiting for him. They looked at him expectancy.
'I'm more tired than I realised,' he spoke to them making his way to his room. He had his hand on the door knob when Hondo spoke:
'We need to talk kid.' Keeping his frustration in check he turned to the sea of worried eyes.
'I'm fine. Just tired,' he tired to shrug them off knowing it wouldn't work.
'I've booked you a session with Wendy tomorrow,' Hondo told him and they all waited for his reaction. He was too tired for this. He didn't have the energy to fight them.
'What time?' his question caught them all off guard.
'10am.'
'I'll be there,' he turned without another word and slipped into his room shutting the door firmly behind him. It would give him a legitimate reason to leave the house to be there for 10am, he did after all have a meeting to attend at 10am and there was no way he was going to miss it. He would call Wendy last minute and reschedule.
