Chapter Eight: I Have Become Comfortably Numb
Tommy's POV
"Chug, chug, chug, chug!" were the same words that surrounded me for...God knows how long.
I didn't know what was going on around me. My vision was going blurry, my hands were shaking up a storm, and my throat was burning. The table under my feet shook occasionally, but not enough to make me jump for it. I'd lost track of how much alcohol I had taken into my system, it was almost impossible to count. Especially when you're drunk. As far as I knew, (if you consider not remembering your own name 'knowing' at the time) I'd been through eleven bottles of good ol' Bud, six monster sized shots of Absolute- gotta love the Russians for that-, three jello-Patron shots, and two glasses of Hennesy.
What? So I drank a lot... It wasn't my fault I had a strong stomach for the time being.
A couple of different pairs of hands were - what felt like - permanently laced onto my shoulders. The atmosphere was thick with blood, sex, and booze, heavy emphasize on the booze. Girls' boobs were shoved into my face, guys arms extended towards me with more beer. The malty liquid ran down my throat, and then some down my neck and into the Manson shirt that was hugging my frame, but who could really give two shits when you've had a few too many?
Bellows of excitement filled the crowded room as I held the twelfth empty bottle above my head, though it didn't remain there long. Another bottle was stuck into my hand and pressed to my lips, more of the ale leaking into my aching mouth. My head was on the verge of exploding on the spot. Sure, I'd drank a shitload before, but never this much. Hell, bitches were crazy in Chicago, but these bitches even crazier. Why do I sound like a gangster...? Oh, yeah. Cause I'm drunk...and getting crunk. Ha...ha...ahh...Shit, I really am drunk.
The thirteenth (haha, my lucky number...apparently not so lucky anymore) bottle was pulled away from my lips, and I coughed into my sleeve. I was pretty sure I pulled it away...but I could be wrong. 'Boo's came from all sides of me, but I shook my head. "Hell, no, guys. I'm done for tonight," I slurred, my trachea blazing throughout every word. I awkwardly jumped off of the table and stumbled my way out of the crowd, bumping into somebody here and there. A few people still stuck out bottles to my face, but I pushed them aside, walking into the kitchen...At least, I think it was the kitchen...
I plopped down into a chair, resting my arm on the table in front of me. I was suddenly aware of just how loud the music was, and it irritated me. Blood was pumping ferociously through my blood vessels and I heard the thumpa thumpa in my ears- both from music and ferocious pumping. Slowly, the crowd dispersed from the living room, and I couldn't help but smirk to myself. I'd been the life of the party, the show. And now that I was done, it was back to plain drinking. I mean, drinking wasn't ever plain, but compared to my little entertaining, it was as plain as blank sheet music.
A beefy guy came up to me and patted me on the shoulder, making me shake all over the chair. "Dude, you just broke the fucking record." I looked up at him, rubbing my eyes. "What fucking record?" I asked, my voice breaking. He rolled his eyes, scoffing. His eyes were blood-shot, and his face was kinda pale. "The drinking record. The most anybody ever got was, like, eight beers, maybe. You had twelve, and on top of that, like, three other drinks. Way to go, man." He chuckled, the Cognac rolling off his breath before hiccuping. He walked away from me, stumbling into a few people who pushed him into another crowd. What idiots...
The sudden need to talk to Adam was eating at me. It..was pretty hard to stay away from him for a while. Just talking about him to someone was less nerve wrecking than not talking to him. I called Mia every day, (now that I remembered it was two hours later) and talked about Adam for the last couple minutes of our conversation before she had to go. It was just a little snippet of what was going on, but it was plenty enough.
Something clattered onto the table and I jumped, moving my hand. I looked over, my eyes playing tricks. Fuck, what was that? A...box...? Or something...My peepers adjusted, and I saw a six pack of beer on the table, along with a girl with huge tits, and an ass to match. I was pretty sure she was from my school, and she was probably in one of my classes, or two. But her name escaped my drunken mind. The pink tank top that ceased at her belly button (which was pierced, mind you) was low cut, showing a colossal amount of her cleavage. Her tight jeans formed around her cheeks, like perfect little round peaches. I scoffed, looking away and placing my head in my palm. "Not interested," I muttered, staring ahead in front of me at nothing in particular.
Her gluteus maximus was in my lap, and I found myself running my hand along her chest, subconsciously. "In what? The beer, or the girl?" She questioned. Her voice was seductive, shaking in the tiniest bit. A smirk played on my lips, my eyes half closed. I could smell the Vodka practically leaking out of her breath, but it didn't bother me. I was drunk, she was drunk, we're all a happy family of drunks in this house. Woopee. Who's house was it anyway...? L-...T-...M...Ma...It'll come to me.
Her glossy, plump, pink lips graced mine, and I could feel the pressure growing in my jeans. "Well, it definitely can't be you, honey." I muttered against her lips. I didn't bother asking her name; I'd forget it anyway. Her lips crashed onto mine, sweet and filled with alcohol. She intertwined her tongue with mine, swirling around in my mouth. Her hand brushed against my stiff one, and she slowly started to get up, grabbing my hand and pulling me along with her to the staircase.
"C'mon, lil' boy. Let me show you how we do it here in L.A."
-
My head bent over the trash can, and my stomach made somersaults as I heaved. My brain was plummeting in my head, pulsing like no other fucking mother. Of all the four times I'd 'brought it back up' that day, I'd made it to the porcelain bowl, because honestly, I was used to the cold of the toilet surrounding my face. But my feet wouldn't will me to move this time.
Anne looked over at me and pushed away from her desk as I fell from the cot onto my knees. I gripped the side of the can, my knuckles going cold. A hand pulled the hair away from my face, making it easier for me to...well, to put it lightly, gag. The acid stung my already burned throat. Anne clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth when I paused momentarily, before the surge passed through my esophagus again. Oh, hey, look at that. I do learn something at school.
'Alcoholism 101.' I should pass.
The stream finally ended after a few minutes, and I struggled to breathe. Anne let go of my hair and walked away from me, and I could only assume she went to get a cup of water. I coughed loudly into the bin, spitting the last of it out. My head hung loosely before I slowly moved myself away. The bin disappeared from in front of me, moved to the side of the room. I crawled along the floor, towards the cold wall. My head greeted the wall with a loud thud, not helping the ache. I squeezed my eyes shut, my mouth hanging open. I groaned, putting a hand on the side of my head that hit the God damn cement...or whatever the hell walls are made of.
"Oww..." I whimpered, my eyes rolling back into my head. The lights above me flickered on. I yelled into my sleeve before covering my eyes with my hands. "Turn it off, turn it off!" I screeched, the light still slipping through my fingers. Anne sighed, and I heard the click of the light switch before it went dim again. My hands went limp against my face and fell back to my side. She stood in front of me with the cup, her other hand on her hip. Her face was in between a motherly look and a You're-Such-A-Dipshit glare. I frowned, starting at her. Don't give me that look, bitch. It's not my fault, the voice in my head grumbled. It really was my fault, but I couldn't comprehend that at the time. I looked up at her through my curtain of hair, squinting angrily before taking the cup from her hand. I knew she was nice, but when you're hungover, nobody was nice. Everybody was evil...especially M-...Ma...Mon...Monnnnn...Monte. Yeah, Monte. Fuck, yeah. I remembered his name.
My hand trembled against the cup as I brought it to my lips, taking a sip of the cold water. It felt good against my fiery throat, calming my senses. I leaned my head against the wall- slowly, this time- and looked at the ceiling, drawing a face into it. Adams face, to be exact, but like you didn't know that. I sighed, rubbing my eyes with my free hand. "Anne?" I grouched, looking for her around the room. The first time I'd woken up, she told me to just call her Anne, and I had no problem with that. "Anne?" I mumbled loudly. But wouldn't it be just extravagant if she actually answered to the name she told me to call her? I think I'm just bitching.
She walked into the room, her lips pressed into a tight line and her eyes wide. She had a sweater in her hand, and she folded it around her arm and put both hands on her broad hips. "Yes?" She said through her teeth. I stared at her, looking her up and down. She wasn't anymore duller than the rest of the kids here, with the exception of big brown eyes. I looked away from her, staring at the ceiling again. "What time is it?" I asked in a low voice. I started drawing Adams features again, the most important being his beautiful cerulean eyes, shaded by glasses. A soft smile formed on my lips.
"Time for you to get back to sleep," she said, her voice thick with disbelief. Disbelief in what, you ask? Well, ask Anne, cause I sure as hell didn't know.
An exaggerated sigh rolled of my lips into the moist air of the room. "Fine, but what time is it?" I asked again, starting to pick my lazy ass off of the floor. My back hit the cot as she walked over and tucked the blanket around me. She really was extremely motherly. I wondered if she had kids...
"It's about two, Tommy. Now close your eyes before I close them for you," she smiled and ruffled my hair across my face. She started towards the door, shaking her head and giggling. The door closed silently behind her, and I squinted in the dark. How did I even get in here? I couldn't remember anything from last night or that morning. The last thing I remember is having my second beer, but I knew I'd had way more than two beers. I wouldn't be laying here if I'd had only two beers. How did I get to school? Where were my things? Where was Adam?
"Fuck..." I muttered to myself, wiping the little beads of sweat that formed around my jawline. I was breaking into a cold sweat, and it bothered me to a certain extent. A couple minutes passed of just staring up, pretending there was no ceiling, or roof, and I was staring at the sky. It was as clear as a summer morning, though it was only the beginning of Spring. I could feel the breeze coming in through the windows, despite the fact that they're weren't any windows in the secluded room. I saw myself, with Adam and-
I shook my head, grunting and placing curled hands at my eyes. No! No, no, no. I don't like him as anything more than a friend, and neither does he, so even if I did, it wouldn't matter. I'm the only fucked up one. Adam's normal. He. Is. Normal. He likes pussy as much as the next guy, and the same goes for me. I...I do...and so does Adam...right? Right...Don't argue with me, I'm hungover.
The sound of the main door to the clinic opening brought me out of my thoughts. I nestled against the cot, pulling the blanket up to my nose. Willing myself to fall asleep wasn't working...Rah. Pretending to sleep works, too.
"...he just fell asleep a couple of minutes ago, Adam." The door clicked open softly, letting a stream of light pour in. I tried my hardest not to cringe at the luminescence. Nothing happened for a long time. It felt as though everything was stuck in time. The light slowly dispersed, the door clicking shut again. Footsteps pattered over to me, something thudding against the floor before it went eerily quiet again. The cot shifted lower, and a warm hand brushed against my iced-over cheek. He sighed, running his fingertips over the dark circles under my eyes. It...it felt nice... his hands weren't overly heated like some. The fingertips trailed back down to my cheek, rubbing lightly.
His hand roamed all around my face for a few before he brushed the hair out from my eyes. "You're such an idiot, Tommy..." He whispered, patting the top of my head. I smirked, mentally. Did you really just realize that? "But you're a cute idiot, you know?" He muttered, his palm settling on the roots of my hair. Did...he just call me...cute? He chuckled softly, the hand continuing to mess up my hair. He started humming something...some kind of ballad. It sounded...really familiar. It was...shit, curse me and my hungover brain.
He started mumbling little words while humming, and it slowly came together into a song. His hand continued to stroke (shut the fuck up, perverts,) my hair, and my mind started to slowly function as his humming progressed into singing. His voice was...beautiful. Magical. Enticing. Any other word for brilliant would fit. His voice made the queasiness in my stomach that I'd had all morning start to fade, along with putting me to sleep with the tenderness he was singing in.
"...and all I have to do is hold you, there's a racing within my heart..." His fingers lingered on my forehead, as if pressing the song into my head. Wait a God damned second. That was...for Christs sake, what was it called? "And I am barely touching you," he quietly wailed. He kept singing for a long time, even after the lyrics ended."Oh"s and "Yeah"s continued after the song was over. Damn, if only I didn't need to pretend to be sleeping...
I didn't want Adam to leave. I wanted him to stay here for the rest of the day with me. But my wishes never come true. The door cracked open again, and Anne's voice came low and sweet, "Adam, honey, let him rest for another period. Then you can come back again, alright? You need to get to History, anyway." Wait, what? History? That was the last period of the fucking day! And it was one of the two classes that I had with Adam a day...I'd been in here for all of eight hours...crap...
His hand fell away from my forehead, and the cot bounced lightly as he got up. He picked what I guessed to be his bag off of the floor, walking to the door of the little room. He mumbled a small "Thank you," before going on his way. The door to my little room and the main room both closed, as did my now tired eyes. But I still couldn't fall asleep. Not anymore. Not after hearing an angel sing. I mean, I knew he did theater, but I didn't know he sang like...like...it really wasn't comparable. It was unique and engaging and seductive and sexy and-
Wait...what were those last two? Did I just call Adam's voice sexy? I rarely compare anything to being sexy. Fuck, Adam, what have you done to me? I laughed out loud, shaking my head. It was incredible what two weeks of a transfer could do to you.
I didn't (more like couldn't) do anything for the rest of the day. By the time Adam came back at the end of the day, I was feeling almost brand new. He smiled and took me into a bear hug. "Now, promise you won't do that again?" I gave him a lopsided grin and nodded. "I'll try to, anyway." I said, wincing as a ball bounced against the ground outside. "Shit..." I muttered, putting my hand to the left side of my head. I might not be throwing up anymore, but everything was still way too loud for me. I slinked my arm around his shoulder, and he around my waist, balancing myself. I hadn't walked all day, remember?
Adam looked behind him to Anne, pushing his glasses up his nose with his free hand. "Thanks, Anne." He yelled to her. Her head whipped up from her work and smiled, waving to us. "Go on, get the hell outta here, boys." She gave a look to Adam, and he returned it. Uh...what just happened there? Whatever. We walked down the hallway, earning glances from a couple of girls who dared to stare. I stuck my tongue out at them, and kept stumbling with Adam. They giggled, prancing away like merry little pricks. Pft, some people are just that stupid.
"Adam?" I grumbled, my head lolling on his shoulder. "Hmm?" He looked over at me with his big blue eyes, pouring into me. "Tell me something..." I asked lazily. He blinked a few times before nodding.
"How often do new people come here?" He chuckled beside me, shaking his head. "Not too often, actually. We've practically all known each other since we were in Kindergarten. I think only one person has transferred here, in seventh grade, but he moved away a couple months later. It's probably the reason everyone crowds around you. Just excited that something new and exciting has come to town." It took a while for my brain to process what he was saying, but I eventually nodded and kept walking.
We reached the main entrance, and Adam used his free hand to push the door open. He pulled me along into the burning light of the sun, and I cringed, bending my head down. "Bitchy sun..." I muttered, my voice hoarse. Didn't speak almost all day, either. Adam laughed beside me, still dragging me along. "Well, you obviously can't go home like this..." He said, looking over at me. The sun glinted off of the metal in his mouth, and I smiled to myself. They would be off by the end of year, he told me. I pulled my hood up around my face, wishing I had my sunglasses with me.
"Movies?" I asked, looking up at him with a squint and a grin.