A/N: What would you do if I sang out of tune? Would you stand up or walk out on me? Lend me your ear and I'll sing you a song and I'll try not to sing out of key. Oh, I get by...
(Or the Joe Cocker version. That one's lovely too.)
. . .
Wasted – Chapter 15
With A Little Help From My Friends
. . .
I'm sitting cross-legged on Naruto's living room floor, surrounded by piles and piles of loose sheets covered in keywords and stick figures. He's convinced me to help him sort through his paperwork before next week's deadline to hand in our final projects. Honestly, it didn't take much convincing; anything to get me out of my apartment and away from my own stupidity.
He's sitting across from me, in his own crater of scribbled-on paper, staring intently at the page in his hand like it's going to reveal some sort of grand magical secret or scream out which pile it belongs in. That's one thing Naruto and I have in common; we're not very organised. We barely get by on our own, but we figure that together, we're not so bad. I'm much more rational than he is, so I sort things by using logic but very little method. He gives himself a system, but eventually, he gets distracted and when he manages to focus on his task again, he realises he put things in the wrong places and nothing makes sense anymore.
Thus, I've been helping him with his projects since our second semester and I like to think that I've played a little part in the excellent grades he got in the Video Creation classes. We always do the same thing; since he doesn't want anyone to have an exact idea of what he's working on, he only permits me to sort through the storyboard. That way, I can't read any dialogue, his indications are vague and sometimes misleading (although I'm sure they make all the sense in the world to him) and the only visual hints I get are the aforementioned stick figures. He explained all of this to me the first time I helped him and didn't even bother to make me think he gave me a really important job; he just didn't want me to read his script or his character charts. Even his editing list is off-limits.
But this is good. It keeps me focussed on something other than my own personal troubles. I had to fill Naruto in on everything because he pretty much disappeared as soon as he got his "okay" to start filming. He'd show up for class, yes, but he'd spend the entire periods doodling, writing or sleeping. When that dude sets his mind to something, there's really nothing to stop him. However, now that he's finally resurfaced, he's the best confidant I could ask for (Ino's been hell-bent on binge-drinking for absolutely no viable reason lately and she's not a good listener when wasted). Sure, we make fun of him because he's sometimes extremely thick, but he's actually way more experienced than us in the matter of lasting relationships. Then, once he knows everything, he stores it somewhere in his brain and changes the subject.
Which is why sitting on his living room floor in a pool of sunlight, flooded with loose sheets of paper, listening to his lighthearted banter about bunny rabbits and yellow umbrellas, without a single drop of alcohol in my system or a single wisp of smoke in my lungs and feeling refreshed by the light April breeze, I seriously don't know how I've managed to live without him for the two past months. I haven't felt this calm and safe since... Well, I don't know. It's been a while. Maybe since that formal last December, maybe since the Christmas holidays, maybe since Sasuke and I became something. Maybe since before Idate. I just... really don't know.
I finish a pile, push it to my left and stretch my legs out in front of me. I lean forward to grab my feet and stretch my shoulders and my back. I let my head flop between my arms, almost resting my forehead on my knees, and wait for the dull pain in my back and legs to die down. When I'm comfortable, I straighten back up and stretch my arms above my head.
"Now is no time to slack, young lady," Naruto says in a falsely authoritarian tone.
"Yes, Sergeant Uzumaki, sir!" I salute him.
"Good. Now go get me a beer, soldier."
"Dude, I'm helping you sort out what pretty much amounts to your entire life, so don't push it."
"Is that a way to speak to your superior?"
"Would my superior like me to accidentally spill that beer on all these beautiful piles we've made?"
"Would my soldier like to get a beer for herself in the process of getting me one?"
"Deal." I jump to my feet and skip over the stacks of paper to get to the fridge, from which I retrieve two bottles of the least piss-flavoured cheap beer Naruto can afford.
"And pair with some Midol while you're at it."
"Oh, look, the bottle is slipping from my hands!"
"OH MY GOD, STOP." He grabs the pile I was falsely threatening to drench in cheap beer and hugs it to his chest. "Don't worry, baby, you're safe with me. The big, bad lady won't get to you."
I hand him his beer and sit back down in my spot across from him. I take a long swig from my own bottle and wince at the terrible taste. Of all the ways to ingest alcohol, beer is probably the worst way. While it requires less consumption than, say, coolers to create some sort of effect on the brain, it sometimes contains less alcohol than most "girly" drinks and doesn't have the added bonus of the pleasant fruit taste. So you have to drink a lot of stale bread-flavoured liquid that makes your bladder full faster than it impairs your judgement. Only the obligatory coldness of it is slightly refreshing, but it soon makes the mouth pasty, and the more you drink to quench it, the worse it gets.
"Why don't you ever have anything good to drink?" I ask Naruto after forcing down another gulp.
"Because as much as I've missed Drunk Sakura, the point today is not to get sloshed but to organise my shit."
"And boy does your shit need organising."
"Precisely. So, please go easy on that bottle and keep stacking."
"You could've made such a fantastically terrible pun with "slacking" and "stacking"." I pick up a new mess of loose pages and plop it down on my lap. "Actually, I'm surprised you didn't make it."
"Yeah, I... I guess I didn't think of it," Naruto says, apparently as baffled as I am. He usually never misses the opportunity to make bad puns.
"You're getting soft." He doesn't answer.
Oh, come on, that one's too easy. It's the perfect setting for an inappropriate penis joke. I watch him in a mix of contempt and pity as he keeps sorting through papers.
"Son, I am disappoint," I say in a deeper tone of voice. That gets a reaction out of him, because he raises his head and gives a good chuckle. He quickly changes his expression to one of false offense and points at me like a reprimanding father.
"Don't you use worn-out memes on me, young lady."
"It's not my fault they were still fresh the last time we properly spoke."
"It hasn't been that long."
"Oh, has it? I can't remember, was the last thing we talked about that super duper awesomesauce party at Shino's or that really pretty girl you keep drooling about in class? What's her name, Hinata? Did you take her virginity yet?"
For the record, that party was in the eighth grade and those were the exact words Naruto used to announce it to Ino and me. Also, it was the night he met Hinata, although it took them six years to actually get together because of Hinata's crippling timidity and Naruto's exasperating habit of being too dense for words.
"Oh, har har. No, actually, the last thing we talked about was Sasuke following you around school. How's that going?"
I give a great sigh. Where to begin? He's three months behind on things; I can't just spring everything on him. I take another sip of beer before talking.
"It's complicated." I start.
"That's the worst explanation I've ever heard."
"I'm not finished, shut it. It's complicated because I'm dating this dude, now. His name is Sai. He's amazing." I pause. I don't mean to hesitate, but I do anyway.
"But?" Naruto knows me too well. Even he knew there was a "but" coming.
"But... he... kinda sucks in bed."
"Ooooh... What does that have to do with Sasuke?"
"Before I was dating Sai, I had an episode of casualty with Sasuke, if you catch my drift." Naruto doesn't say anything, so I go on. "Then at some point, he just vanished into thin air. Well... not completely. He told me he stayed here a while."
"He did."
"Yeah, why didn't you tell me, by the way?"
"I was told not to."
"What? Why?"
"I don't know. He said not to tell anyone. He didn't specify, but I figured he didn't want to look like a loser while he was chasing you."
"Did Hinata know?"
"Yeah, but she promised not to tell too."
"And you call yourselves my friends."
"Continue with your story, you ungrateful, alcoholic child."
I throw him a mean look, but I let the snide comment go. There's no point in getting mad, I've called him worse.
"Well, after you and some other dude kicked him out, he showed up on my doorstep, half-dead from hypothermia – good job on that one, by the way – and because I can't resist pitiful puppies in the snow, I took him in." I pause to take another swig of beer. "Then, stuff happened, and long story short, I slept with him last night."
Naruto looks up at me, his face blank, as if his brain is taking longer than humanly normal to process this information.
"So what?"
HAS HE NOT BEEN LISTENING TO ME!?
"What do you mean, so what!? I'm telling you I had sex with him!"
"Yeah, I heard you. And then, I said so what? You have sex with everybody."
"Bitch. Not everybody."
"No, not everybody, but a lot of people. What does one more person matter?"
"Are you really that stupid or just pretending you are to piss me off? Do you not remember how things ended with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named-But-Isn't-Voldemort!?"
"Yes, of course I remember, he–... Oh. Oh."
"Yeah."
"Does he know?"
"Does who know what?"
"Does Sasuke know you have a boyfriend?"
"Yeah, he knows. He knew when I threw myself at him and he didn't even bother to stop me."
"And does Sai know what happened? Did he catch you?"
"No."
"Psh. You're fine."
"Wha–? How!? How am I fine?"
"Sasuke has it bad for you."
I'm going to overlook the fact that this bit of information made my insides go all warm and fuzzy. Wait, no, one more minute... Okay, I'm good.
"So? All the more reason to break Sai and me up."
"Tsk, come on! Sasuke's smarter than that and you know it. He's going to look past that and know that by personally breaking your couple, he'll get you to hate him, and that's way worse than the situation he's in right now."
I try to consider the situation from Sasuke's point of view. It's something all psychologists and moms recommend doing in an argument, I know, but this case is different; I don't know how Sasuke's brain works and how things like our predicament affect him. Also, it's completely unfathomable to me that he should have feelings stronger than annoyance towards me now, let alone romantic feelings.
Okay, so, objectively, I'm a train wreck. I make him my ultimate rebound, then he leaves for God knows what reason, I get a boyfriend and pretend I can be in a healthy, balanced relationship and suddenly, I'm drunk-jumping him. Once I emerge from my almost-ethylic coma, I realise what I've done and blow a fuse before disappearing for the day.
Go, me.
So, by being a train wreck, am I keeping his attention like a witness who just can't look away from the horror? Because that would be plausible. But Naruto tells me Sasuke has feelings for me, so going along with that, he'd actually be watching the carnage like a superhero waiting for the opportune moment to swoop in and save my sorry ass? I'm sorry, but if that's what it is, I'll have him know that superheroes can't disappear without a trace and expect to be welcomed back with open legs when they decide to show up again.
Even if I did... kinda... open my legs.
GODDAMNIT.
"Do you mind if we talk about something else?" I ask Naruto, not willing to share my train of thoughts.
"Sure."
There's a moment of silence. Figures that once we've talked about my sex life, there's nothing left for us to discuss. It's like it's been the focal point of my entire existence, this semester. I can't even go five minutes without thinking about either Sai or Sasuke.
"How would you see the world ending?" Naruto asks out of the blue.
"... What?" Where's that coming from?
"You know, besides the zombie apocalypse or a meteor or something to do with global warming, how would the world end?"
"Are we supposed to be deep, now?"
"Of course not," he chuckles.
"Hm... I guess I'd want a global Opposite Day. Like, it snows in June and trees grow smaller and when you try to jump, you're actually anchoring yourself into the ground. Water would float like clouds and clouds would crash down on us, as solid and heavy as brick walls. We'd all be squashed to death because running makes you stay in one place."
"How would it snow if there were no clouds?"
"Opposite day. No clouds means downpour."
"What if there are no clouds to begin with, how would the survivors die?"
"Hm... Vegetables would eat them."
"A lot of people don't eat vegetables, that opposite doesn't work."
"Yes it does, it's a double opposite. On Opposite Day, everyone eats vegetables. But then, opposite number two, it's vegetables that eat them."
"Interesting."
"What about you?"
"Global shortage of instant ramen."
"Ah, of course."
"Obviously."
We stare at each other with straight faces for a few seconds before the serious look on his face and the thought of people going hysterical about the ramen shortage are too much for me and I burst out laughing. He does too. It feels good. Unadulterated, unprovoked, uninfluenced laughing about what could be considered as the lamest punchline in the History of Mankind. I'm thinking maybe it's the beer getting to us, but it's unlikely, because my bottle is still half full. I guess that's a good sign. I'm having fun without being on any substance.
That's the effect Naruto has on people.
"I don't know why I just thought of that," Naruto says through his giggles, "but I read recently
about this woman in Mexico who masturbated with a live lobster and it lay eggs in her vagina."
"WHAT." My laughter resumes.
"I swear, I could show you the article, it's hysterical. The reporter had obvious trouble writing it."
I can only imagine being given that story as a journalist and trying to type a PG article about it and it makes me laugh so hard I'm not actually making any sound other than faint whistling.
"Maybe it'll become a trend in Mexican sex shops," I manage to articulate.
"Yeah, like 'Hey, where's your seafood section?'" Naruto says before choking on his own spit, which only makes us laugh even harder.
"For some reason, I keep picturing Madam Sunshine as that woman." My comment throws us into another fit of laughter. Madam Sunshine is the nickname we gave to a sub we had in various classes throughout high school. There were a few ladies like that, who were more supervisors that substitute teachers, because they didn't teach, they just sat at the teacher's desk, reading, while we did schoolwork. They all had nicknames, and that particular one got hers because of how her short, bleached-blond hair was gelled into a sort of halo around her head, and her skin was orange from over-tanning it, so altogether, she looked like a kid's drawn representation of the sun. And the reason why my brain immediately made her pop up in my imagination is mostly because she's the only one out of that army of tweed-wearing retirees who seemed to be getting some, at least during my time in high school. Also, I can be involuntarily but fantastically creepy when my brain grows a mind of its own.
"Oh God, the mental image!" Naruto screams.
"I think I just puked a little in my mouth," I add.
"You! What about me!? I loathe you."
By the way, she once supervised our last period PE class. She waited until we were all done changing before doing so herself, but Naruto, who'd stayed behind to play basketball a little longer (a sport he's terrible at, like most sports) after the bell rang the end of the day, ran into the wrong locker room and caught her changing. I think the mental scar will stay with him forever.
My cheeks hurt. And my abs. If I had any.
We go back to stacking in comfortable silence. We keep working for a few hours until everything is sorted, put in binders and piled neatly on his bedroom desk. I still have no clue what his project is about and I'm starting to doubt he does either because of how messy and indecipherable his paperwork is, but he seems very pleased with himself and speaks of his movie with confidence; I guess that as long as he understands himself, everything is right in the world.
I decide to take my leave immediately after we're done, to keep some time to visit the school library for my final paper on the Surrealist era in art. Naruto pulls me into a long hug before I go that I accept gladly. He's slightly on the pudgy side and has grown much taller than me over the last few years; his bear hugs are the best. Even despite the lingering smell of instant ramen. He's actually more comfortable than Sasuke, and Sai's too skinny to even stand a chance against Naruto's hugs.
"Thanks, Naruto."
"What for?"
I pull away and mock-punch him on the arm.
"For being you," I say in a terrible rom-com tone, albeit with a huge smile stretching my lips from ear to ear. He snorts and returns the mock-punch. "But seriously, thank you. I don't think I would've survived today if you hadn't invited me over. You made me momentarily forget that I'm a moron."
"You're very welcome, dear. That's what I'm here for." I giggle and turn to leave. "Hey," he calls and I turn back. "Don't beat yourself up. It'll work out, I'm sure."
"Yeah, hopefully." I sigh. "Well, see ya."
And with that, I'm out the door and climbing down the stairs to the street. It's barely four in the afternoon and the sun is still high enough in the sky to qualify as broad daylight. Naruto's apartment is closer to the school than mine, but I would've appreciated to have longer to walk, just to get more time to clear my head. There's a slight breeze, but the air is warm enough that I don't mind my tank top and Bermuda shorts. I take big whiffs of fresh air, and it feels as though I've been living in a cloud of stifling, oppressive smoke for the past month.
And, you know, maybe I have.
I never thought I'd ever say this seriously, and it's kind of a stupid thought to have unless you've survived drowning or just escaped a building on fire, but it feels good to breathe. I pull my elastic out if my hair and I shake it out of the braid I'd put it in earlier. I feel free, liberated, light as a feather. Really, spending time with Naruto is what I needed. Hinata must be in a state of perpetual bliss with a boyfriend like him. If only Sai, or even Sasuke, could put me in half the good mood I'm in, I'd have nothing to complain about. But Sai's company requires me to be high off my mind and Sasuke just makes me regret every bad decision I've made about him.
I reach the school but make the extra walk to the west entrance at the back of the building just to stay outside longer. I walk past Block H and Block J, respectively the Humanities and Theater departments and reach the west entrance, which leads directly into Block A, the Literature department. I walk down the main corridor, past rows of lockers and empty classrooms. This is the newest part of the school building; it's walls are made of gypsum painted white instead of the usual mud-coloured brick walls in the Cinema department on the second floor (with the exception of the new editing rooms, which was added roughly around the same time as this part of the Literature department). Due to the large amount of windows, the hallway is pooling with sunlight and doesn't feel quite as claustrophobic as usual.
I turn a corner and smack into someone walking in the opposite direction. It takes me a minute to realise who it is, longer than it takes him, obviously, because he speaks before I have a chance to form a coherent thought.
"Hey. It's you." Okay, so it's a noncommittal remark. I look up to get a look at his face and my stomach drops to my heels.
It's... Oh God, what's his name? This dude... My cellphone, the abandoned classroom, the fire drill... OH MY GOD, what is his name!? Alright, nevermind, just let him know you've recognised him.
"You!" Good job, Sakura.
"Hi." He sounds hesitant. It's obvious he remembers what happened. I blush furiously and avert my eyes to look at anything but his face. "Um... Juugo," he says, offering me his hand to shake.
"Right! Juugo. Hi," I answer, responding to his handshake by awkwardly hooking the tips my fingers around his gigantic palm and letting him jerk my entire frame with a firm shake of his arm. His grip on my hand is soft, however, to go with his soothing voice, perhaps. "Sakura."
"I remember." Goddamnit. "How are you?"
"I, uh... I'm good. You?"
"I'm good too."
There's an awkward silence and it's only made worse by him letting go of my hand and me, no longer knowing what to do with my arms. Or the rest of my body, for that matter. I try to think of things to say, but all I come up with is either pathetically irrelevant or completely inappropriate. We look around for a while and I realise he's probably as much at a loss for words as I am.
"Um... Where were you headed?" He asks nonetheless.
"Library." I answer.
"I see..." He pauses. "Want me to walk you there?"
"Uh... Sure." I don't see why not. Oh, right, maybe because it's REALLY FUCKING AWKWARD. I resume my trek to the library and he falls into step with me. Unlike the comfortable silence with Naruto earlier, this one is anything but. We walk down the hallway and emerge into the intersection in the middle of the school building. We bifurcate into Corridor M, where the library is. I should say something before we reach it. Maybe I should apologise. Yeah. I'll do that.
"Hey, um... Juugo?"
"Yes?"
"I, uh... I'm sorry about... about what I did. About how I acted."
"Oh." He seems genuinely surprised at my words. "Oh, it's... it's fine."
"No, it's not. I was pissed and I think I was trying to prove a point. I took advantage of you."
"Well... I offered."
"Yeah, but were you really all that serious? Would you have gone through with it, at school no less?"
"No, I guess not."
"Yeah. So, I'm sorry. Thank God for that fire drill."
"Yeah," he chuckles half-heartedly.
We arrive at the double glass doors and I hesitate to enter. I don't think I should leave it at just that. I kind of owe it to myself to not seem like a nymphomaniac to more people than I already do. That male actor I used during filming came back for more in the past weeks and I was horrified at how convinced he was that I would let just about anyone in my pants. I should clear it with Juugo that it's not actually the case.
"Look." I start. "I don't know how I got you to come with me, but I need you to know that it's not something I do on a regular basis with complete strangers."
"Oh. Yeah, I figured."
"Really? How?"
"You pushed me away so hard and ran out so fast that you made me feel like I was the one forcing myself on you."
"Oh." There's a pause. "Why did you follow me, though?"
It's not like I'm particularly attractive. Most of the guys I've gone home with only gave me the time of day because they were as drunk as me and I was not puking my guts out. I'm not butt-ugly either, but there certainly is room for improvement. And it's not like I have men queuing at the door. I stopped answering booty calls when things started with Sasuke, but even then, I only got called when the guys were wasted. That's how those things work for me. It's not great for the self-esteem, but I guess it's one way to keep me grounded. Admittedly, one that makes me resent myself a little, but still. It's like the universe is reminding me that although I've had many encounters with men, I'm not some irresistible bombshell like you see in TV dramas and I shouldn't act like one.
So, surely in broad daylight, at school, with no alcohol involved, Juugo didn't choose to follow me for my looks. Especially since, as I can see today, he doesn't seem like the type to sleep around with anyone that offers. And it couldn't have been my shining personality either, I'd barely spoken three sentences to him.
"To be honest," he says. "I didn't really understand what was going on. And then I figured you wanted to make out or something."
"Oh."
"And there was this whole thing with Sasuke. I guess I thought that if he'd shown interest in you, you'd be something special."
"Oh." I repeat.
"But-... Well, my friends keep telling me that I'm too shy. So they dared me to ask you out when you came looking for your phone. We figured you had to be hot."
"I see."
"I didn't think to look through your photos. You weren't at all how I pictured you."
"And by that, you mean...?"
"Oh, no! Don't get me wrong, you're very pretty." A spectacular blush bursts on his cheeks and he averts his eyes. "I-I mean... It's just that I thought you'd look... You didn't look like a man eater."
"Um... Is that a good thing?"
"Yeah. You seemed... nice. Like, the kind of girl who could be friends with just about anyone. The kind who doesn't screw people over and whom nobody wants to hurt. So I didn't really understand how you could've gotten involved with someone like Sasuke. That's also why I was taken by surprise when you–"
"Right! Um... Personal issues, mainly. I'm trying to work through them."
"I figured. But you shouldn't give yourself up like that."
"Like what?"
"You seem way too nice to let yourself be so uncared for. It's obvious one-night stands are not for you. Don't force yourself into them."
It takes all my strength not to burst out laughing. If he only knew. But I guess that's why he said it; he doesn't know. Of course he doesn't, we're not in the same circles. How could he know about my time with Sasuke and my relationship with Sai? Hell, he doesn't even know about everything I've done before we met. If he did, I don't think he'd be quite so concerned about my well-being. And I don't think he'd peg me as unfit for one-night stands, either.
"Um... Thanks, I'll... I'll remember that."
"Good." There's another silence and I try to figure out a way to end the conversation. "You deserve better."
He gives me the same smile he had the day we met, that sweet smile of a Pastoral professor that really doesn't suit the rest of his body. He has very calm features and the more I look at him, the more I feel like I would've tainted him with my antics back in January. I feel terrible. I'm sure he wouldn't be trying to cheer me up if I'd kept going. The things he said about me, I could say the same about him; he's way too nice to let himself be so uncared for, especially by me.
But I guess now I know what attracted him to me. Sasuke did. Juugo said it; if Sasuke had shown interest in me, then I must have been something special. But that doesn't explain the whole nine months between my breakup and Sasuke. And does it mean I've lost all powers of attraction, now? Or that I just regained them because of last night? And what about Sai? He arrived almost at the same time Sasuke disappeared. This theory doesn't work.
"So, I was only attractive because of Sasuke?" I ask. Hopefully, he'll have a satisfying answer.
"No. You were very attractive on your own." His furious blush is back. "Once you were in that classroom, there was none of that nice girl persona anymore. You were... persuasive. You pulled me in just by whispering in my ear. I don't even remember what you said, I just remember thinking how–" He stops himself, and if I ever thought there was no way he could get any redder, I was wrong. His face practically glows red and he locks his eyes on his shoes, refusing to look at anything else.
He's just too adorable. He's not intimidating at all anymore, and I sort of pity him a little. I should put an end to his embarrassment, spare him the obvious eternal shame of finishing his sentence. Besides, his answer definitely cheered me up, and his flustered face just proves that he's telling the truth. At least now, I don't owe Sasuke everything attractive about myself.
"Thank you, Juugo. That really helped."
He gives me a meek smile through his blush, says a quick little "Okay, bye" and half-walks, half-runs off. I can almost see smoke billowing from his ears. I watch him turn the corner, and once he's out of my sight, I push through the library doors, a smile stretching from ear to ear.
. . .
Sometimes, when you're drunk, you do things you wouldn't do in a sober state. You sing, you dance badly, you say whatever goes through your mind, you take off your clothes, you make out with people you don't know and in some cases (read: in my case), you have sex with people you don't know. Or people you do know but really don't care for.
And sometimes, sometimes you do something outrageous, something so inexplicably uncharacteristic of you and so utterly, unbelievably stupid, even irrevocable evidence doesn't seem to prove it happened.
The best example I can give is me, right now, sliding the key in Sasuke's parents' front door lock. It took three homemade vodka-cranberries with more vodka than cranberry and about eight shots of vodka (after I ran out of cranberry juice, and I say "about" because I stopped counting at five) to get me to agree with Sasuke's idea; we need to get him his cat back. Harry's probably lonely and left to starve in Sasuke's part of the house and no matter how angry I still am at Sasuke, I can't let a poor little defenceless cat suffer. Also, we're both drunk and this will be fun.
I'm not sure what possessed me to be drunk in his presence in the first place, considering the disastrous turn of events last time it happened (read: last night) and I'm also not sure how come he wasn't more reluctant to drink with me. Basically, I got home and threw myself at the alcohol before he could even utter a single word in my direction. I usually do that to forget a really bad day, but I was rather light on my feet when I arrived at the apartment. Maybe I did it to avoid him bringing me down. He joined in eventually, claiming he'd had a bad day too.
What was I talking about? Oh yeah! The plan.
The plan is a little woozy in my head (and probably in his head too, although he did create it), but what I do remember is that I would walk in through the front door, climb the stairs to his room and open his window. I'm guessing I should do all of this as silently as possible, but I seriously doubt I'll be capable of that in my slightly disabled state and in the complete darkness of his house, which is quite normal at three in the morning.
He parked his car two blocks away, to make sure nobody on the street recognised it, and I suggested we left our shoes in the car, to avoid making too much noise, taking them off and forgetting them there or leaving shoeprints his parents could have the police look for. What? I'm smart. Anyway, once at the door, Sasuke thrust his keys in my hands and gave me my orders, then disappeared around the side of the mansion.
So, now, I'm tiptoeing my way up the stairs to his room, and by that, I mean that I'm staggering, tripping over each stair and crashing into the banister as ungracefully as anyone has ever been under the influence. But I'm fairly certain I didn't make any noise. I stop to listen for Sasuke's parents, but besides a slight whistling in my ears, the house is completely silent. I stumble through the last steps and into Sasuke's room. I frown at the freakish cleanliness that Sasuke was never able to keep up when I was still regularly staying over. His mom must have gone into a rampage. Although he told me the reason why he moved (or was kicked) out, I'm pretty sure his mother's addiction to orderly shelves and squeaky clean floors had something to do with it as well.
I look around for a while. The familiar posters, the litter box, the bed – oh God, the bed – with its plush blankets and silky sheets, in so many ways better than my bed and the measly futon I was able to provide Sasuke. Maybe I should give him my bed... Meh, he doesn't deserve it. I continue my survey of the room; his closet devoid of any clothes beside a suit cover (possibly with a suit in it) and a cat carrier, his spinny-wheely chair that we had one evening of pure, unadulterated fun with, a neat pile of school supplies on his desk. Oh, look! My English textbook. I've been looking for it for days!
What is that whistling?
I hear a quick knocking on the window and rush over to find Sasuke, dangling off the ledge, looking dangerously close to letting go. I unlock the bolt, yank the window open and grab onto his arms. He must be pushing himself up with his feet on the wall, because pulling him through the window is surprisingly easy. I stumble backwards and involuntarily bring him down with me. We crash on the floor with a thud and a synchronised "Oof".
"Why couldn't you just use the front door like me?" I whisper vehemently as we try to get to our unsteady feet.
"Front doors are overrated. Climbing into windows is cool."
Drunk Sasuke is so much more fun than Sober Sasuke.
"Then why couldn't I climb into the window too?"
"Because you're a girl."
Okay, scratch that. Drunk Sasuke is a dick.
So, the dick makes a beeline for his closet, from which he pulls the cat carrier, and that's when I realise that we have to find the cat. We're drunk, tired, in the dark and technically not supposed to be here, and we have to find the cat. I glance around, hoping it'll somehow have developed the ability to glow in the dark. Okay, bad plan. I take out my phone to use it to shed some light on my surroundings. It does little to help. Maybe I should turn the lights on. I make a move towards the light switch on the wall and immediately yanked back by Sasuke. He shakes his head at me, then points and heads to his bed. He pokes a pillow, which makes a funny noise and starts moving, arching its back and stretching its legs and oh, it's the cat. It meows and rubs its head on Sasuke's hand. Sasuke grabs him, quite indelicately I might add, and shoves him into the carrier. I don't know how he managed to recognise it out of the pile of pillows on his bed, because I sure didn't, but all that matters now is that we have the fluffy quadruped and we need to get the hell out before anyone hears the whistling.
Sasuke thrusts the carrier into my arms and pushes me towards the door, then picks up the cat's litter box and hurries back to the window, which I guess I'm not cool enough to escape out of. I take it as my cue to walk back down and out the front door. I get to the stairs, politely walk around the person climbing up with a cool "excuse me" and make my way out without any hitch. I close the door behind me and break into a run towards Sasuke's car. The cat protests in the carrier, but I'm doing this for his benefit, so really, he should be grateful. Sasuke's already sitting behind the wheel, with the engine on. He steps on it as soon as I slam my door shut and we head off stealthily like the two awesome cat-retrieving ninjas we are. I must say, that was easier than I thought it would be.
We get to my apartment I'm not sure by what miracle, considering the state we're in. We crash through the front door, probably waking everyone up, and if that doesn't do it, the incessant meowing must be finishing the job, but at this point, I don't really care. We stumble to my room and I don't even change into pyjamas before I hurl myself at my bed, suddenly craving sleep the way any respectable college student does. I hear Sasuke fiddle around the room a bit, and eventually the meowing stops, but I'm not paying attention anymore.
My eyes won't open anymore. Sasuke puts something cool in my hand, and it's only when he brings it to my mouth that I realise it's a glass a water. Aaw, he's so considerate. Which is odd, I guess, because he usually just lets me get terrible hangovers and mocks me about being a girl and therefore not being able to hold my liquor. Which is not true. I'm a champion. I gulp the water down nonetheless, grateful for the favour, and let myself fall asleep. The last thing my brain registers before I slip out of consciousness is that Sasuke doesn't climb into bed with me.
I'm not sure if what I'm feeling is gratitude or disappointment.
. . .
I'm lying on my stomach on my bed, trying to type out a Humanities paper that I have no inspiration for, with Harry's furry head nudging my hand for petting which makes me create the most senseless typos. Admittedly, my essay would be much more interesting with all the misspelled words, but I'm guessing my Humanities professor wouldn't find it quite as entertaining as I do. I write bullshit sentence after bullshit sentence, without making any progress on the very trite ethical issue of the legalization of marijuana (ain't that dandy?), in the hopes of reaching my five hundred-word goal by repeating the same things over and over again with different ways of phrasing them.
Sasuke's out, probably doing something way more interesting than I am. He got a call early this morning, but I was too sleepy to properly hear what went down, and when I actually woke up, he was already gone.
GET DOWN. GET DOWN. AND MOVE IT ALL AROUND. GE-
"Ino! My saviour, my blessing, my God-sent Messiah, my-"
"I know, I know, you love me."
"YES. I DO. 'Sup?"
"You tell me. It's been forever."
"Has it?"
"Well, two weeks. Since we spoke. The party doesn't count."
"You and I don't have the same definition of the word 'forever'."
"Go on, Forehead, spill."
"I saw Naruto yesterday."
"Before week fifteen?"
"I know, it's a miracle."
"Did you lure him out with ramen?"
"No, he invited me over."
"You must have superpowers."
"Well, he needed my help to organise his paperwork."
"Organisation superpowers, then."
"Pff, as if. You know the state of my entire existence."
"Yes, your life is a pigsty. Which is why I called. Any progress?"
"I had sex with Sasuke after the party. Drunk sex."
"Forgive me for not being flabbergasted, I was kind of expecting it."
"Yeah, well, I hoped it wouldn't happen. I've cheated."
"You have."
"I'm a cheater."
"You are."
"I think this officially makes me a whore."
"Indeed."
"Um, Ino? If you could deny one or two self-deprecating things I say, it'd be much appreciated."
"I'm sorry, Forehead. It's just that I know trying to deny what you say in this situation is only going to make you super pumped about contradicting me and proving beyond the smidge of a doubt that you are right for beating yourself up."
I groan in protest, but I know she's right. Twelve years of friendship certainly hasn't made it easy for either of us to hide anything from each other.
"You were wasted, you weren't thinking straight. Liquor makes you hurl yourself at sex like a moth to a lamp."
"You know just as well as I do that liquor only makes you uninhibited about doing what you actually want to do."
There's a pause on the other end of the line. I can tell Ino's looking for the right words to say as to not upset me. I also know that if she doesn't find anything good, she'll just say something blunt and deal with my tantrum after. Finally, it comes.
"Well, then, figuratively screw Sai and literally screw Sasuke. Ain't no way around it."
I don't want that idea to seem right in my brain.
Harry decides to go take a walk on my keyboard and I let him, figuring that my essay can only get better from his paws pressing random letters or accidentally deleting the whole thing. He sniffs around, then turns to me, sniffs my face and nudges it with his head. I pick him up, roll onto my back and set him down on my chest.
That's where he slept all of last night. I woke up with him pretending to be a breathing fur collar around my neck. He got even bigger since I last saw him, but he's not fat; just fluffy. He has a tail like a squirrel's and is about as weightless as an actual ball of fluff, and I've only just realised that he sort of looks like Toothless, with the black fur, the green eyes and the annoying habit of biting my hands and feet to compensate for having his claws pulled out. He stretches his body out on top of me and nudges my face with his paws and head. I turn my head to the side and he takes it as his cue to rest his on it and start to purr. I stroke his fur absentmindedly.
"Hey, Sakura?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry for leaving you alone at the party. I really meant to talk to you, but Kiba hadn't told me he was planning to have people over."
"It's fine, don't worry."
"I don't know, maybe if we'd talked, you wouldn't have slept wi–"
"It's fine. What's done is done."
"Dude, I'm a girl, I know that means you're pissed."
"I'm not pissed."
"But you're disappointed."
"... Maybe a little. But not in you. Mostly in my poor life choices."
"I'm sorry, Forehead. I want to make it up to you."
"Take me out for breakfast tomorrow and I'll be satisfied."
"You sneaky little profiteer."
"Hey, you offered. Besides, you have a job, and thus money, which I severely lack. Therefore, you're paying for breakfast."
"Psh. Fine."
"Thank you."
"Pff."
"I lurve you."
"You better."
"Oh! And if you could get Temari laid, the Earth's entire population would be eternally grateful."
"Will it cost me anything?"
"Can you do it without having to pay someone?"
"Can it be done?"
"I'm sure it can, she's not so terrible. Just kind of uptight."
"Done. At least I'll enjoy this part of the deal."
"You mean you don't enjoy having breakie with me? I'm hurt."
"You eat like a pig."
"You're the pig."
"Yeah, but I'm paying your pigging out, so no, I won't enjoy."
"Good. Pick me up at eight."
"Go choke on a peanut."
"Bye, bestie!"
"Bye, honey."
. . .
A/N: Jesus Murphy, that took forever! Sorry for the long wait. A lot of things have happened since the last chapter and I'm trying to figure some personal stuff out, but I'll try my best to update sooner.
Review?