Chapter Forty-Seven

Daniel doesn't have a car. I mean, it's New York City. I wait at a random convenient store as he rolls up down the street in the back of a taxi. I watch him rushing to step out and looking around everywhere. Slowly, I step out and walk as if one of my legs have been amputated. I look down, brain somewhere else, and try to go to him. I feel so tired and weak. I hate it.

           "Ivory," Daniel says, catching me by the arm when I'm close. I hold onto his forearms, trying to just find a sense of what's going on. I think I'm in aftershock. My whole world is upside down. "Ivory, Jesus fuck, what happened?"

             His 'Jesus fuck' makes me laugh because it's such a Daniel catchphrase and somehow the laughs turn into sobs. I am insane and I think now Daniel knows, too.

             "Okay, okay, don't talk," he decides, putting a hand on my right shoulder and guiding me to the waiting taxi. He helps me in, putting a hand on the roof of the taxi and the other on my head so I don't bump my head. He probably thinks I'm drunk or something. Daniel steps in after me, seat-belting me in and then himself. "Where do you want to go? Home?"

           Home. Home? What even is home right now? This isn't my home. I don't know this city and this city does not know me. I just want to be eight again and watch my Mom paint some waterfall or something simple yet extravagant because she always made it that way. I want to be home, my real home, with my real family.

              I don't want to go back to the dorm. I don't want to be alone with just my dark thoughts and a night filled with crying and tearing my heart out again and again.

           "No," I say and my voice is gone. I cried so much that it's just a hollow sound now, my throat dry. I swallow, trying to decide where else I could go. "Take me to the party."

           Daniel raises his eyebrows and then shakes his head. "Ivory, I really don't think you should go to that right now. I was just there and it's really not that crazy or anything. Let me take you to your dorm room so you can rest, huh?"

           I stare at him. "I want to go to the party. Now."

          "Ivory, I mean, are you okay? I don't think—"

           "Please, Daniel," I plead. "I don't think I can handle being alone right now. Please just take me to the party. It'll distract me for a while."

        He sighs but he nods in the end, telling the taxi driver the address of the party. For a while, he just sits there, elbow on window sill and biting his thumbnail. Every few seconds, he looks over at me with an anxious look in his eye. He doesn't know what's wrong with me and he thinks I'll probably break down again soon. It's not all false. I might.

        "Here," Daniel says, pushing a bunch of Starbucks napkins into my lap. "From earlier. I think you need them more now."

          I faintly smile, reaching for them. "Thank you."

          "No biggie," Daniel replies, smiling real big that I'm somewhat getting better. He keeps an attentive watch on me as I sniffle into the napkins and use the others to wipe away dried tears and probably the horror slash film that is my mascara and other make up. "You want to talk about it or...?"

          I shake my head.

         "That's fine," he says, swinging his knees side to side and folding his hands in his lap.

               The rest of the car ride is silent and that's alright with me. Daniel doesn't complain either, his eyes focused on everything outside like a little kid at an amusement park for the first time. We get to a small apartment complex in fifteen or so minutes. Daniel pays for the far and he opens my door for me, a grin plastered on his face.

           I let out a wavering breath once we reach the sidewalk.

           "Are you cold?" Daniel asks. I notice he's not wearing his glasses and that his hair is gelled back. He also shaved. This must be his party look. He would've looked like a hot celebrity but he's wearing a wool black sweater that makes him look like a teddy bear. The sun's gone down and it's chillier these days. Suddenly, he starts taking off his sweater. "I don't know if this will be enough but I didn't really plan for—"

          "No, Daniel, it's fine," I say when he places the sweater over my shoulders. Wearing his clothes feels too intimate. "Please, no."

           He looks at me but then retracts his jacket. "Okay."

         Did I offend him?

           Daniel starts walking away but I grab his sleeve. He looks back, surprised. "Daniel," I start, "Don't get me wrong. I appreciate your help and the kind care you give me. If my life already wasn't so fucked up, I'd probably be in love with you by now. And maybe I will someday. I know we've been flirty lately but I just need some space and I'm sorry if I'm snappy or emotional. Something's just happened to me and I just—I can't handle anything else at the moment. I don't want any chance of giving you the wrong idea. We're friends though, right?"

            His face changes, a frown at first, and then slowly, he smiles and it's like hot chocolate during a blizzard. He leans in, his hand outstretched. Daniel pulls me in, pressing me to his chest. One of his hands pats my hair up and down, which is near his head. "I understand," he says softly, his fingers going up and down on my scalp. "Don't get so worked up about it. I understand. I have no clue what's happened but it's going to be okay."

           I've been searching for those words all night and tears start stinging my eyes again. "Thank you so much, Daniel. You have no idea how much this means," I whisper, clinging onto him for just a second longer.

           "Friends," he repeats. "I can live with that."

          I pull back, wiping away my tears and grinning. "Good."

           "Party time?"

           I nod and he puts an arm around me, bringing me to an elevator inside.

           "You look beautiful, by the way," Daniel says gently as we're in the smallest elevator I've ever been in. His eyes are twinkling as he looks at me over and over.

           I narrow my eyes. "Thank you...friend!"

          He laughs and I feel just a bit better. "No problem...friend!"

            The party is not really a party. I imagined a huge rager, music blasting and thumping, people drunk everywhere and a hot mess. Instead, the rooftop is lit by fairy lights and the occasional cute lantern. There are couches and everything is surrounded by a mellow orange glow from the lights. People are chatting and laughing and some are dancing in the middle. And there are definitely drunk people. But it's a mostly relaxed environment. Mature.

         I can't help but be just a tiny bit disappointed. I was hoping for something wild and big and loud to distract and temporarily deafen me.

        "You weren't kidding when you said it wasn't crazy," I tell Daniel as we walk out onto the rooftop. "I like it though."

            Daniel nods. "Told you." He waves at a couple people who shout his name. "Be right back. I see a couple friends. You good to be on your own?"

          "Yes, I'm not completely mental just yet, Danny boy."

         He grins. "Call me Danimal."

         "Like the...yogurt?" I skeptically look at him. "Maybe you're the one mental...."

            "Danny boy sounds so young and pure and casual," he explains, taking off his sweater. Under, he's wearing a white sleeveless shirt, some band logo on the front. I can't say I don't admire the view....of my friend! "Danimal sounds more like me."

         "But you're a total geek and you blush whenever I mention boners," I point out and as my words hit his ears, his cheeks turn a dark red color and he can't look me in the eye anymore. "But whatever you'd like, Danimal."

         "I hate you," he says, walking away and I break out into a genuine smile.

           When he runs off to his friends, I go take a seat on a white outdoor lounge chair. I stretch my legs out and look up at the skyscrapers surrounding the apartment building. Giselle doesn't seem to be here and knowing her, she probably bounced as soon as she saw that this was a dead party. She's probably at some nightclub by now.

         And even though there are about fifty or more people around me at the moment, all new people and new relationships I could build if I tried and just went up to someone and said hello, I just feel so alone. A part of me likes it. I want to sink into the dark abyss so I don't have to think or hold myself back anymore from crying or feeling like curling into myself and sleeping forever.

        I just want to give up and let my emotions take my over.

       Ivory, of course, I loved you.

       I sit up suddenly. I can't think about this anymore. The numbness that had been shielding me for the last thirty minutes is slowly starting to evaporate and now I have to deal with the after effect.

          It was an article about my past. Things...I've only ever told...you.

         His words are all over my head and they're sprawled all over my body. I just can't get away. How do you get away from a voice that's coming from inside your head? It was easy to physically get away from him but I'm still emotionally attached.

        I had this glass in my head that represented Lee and I. The moment when I realized he was accusing me, that glass shattered. What he didn't know was that when the glass shattered, it cut me a million times over. That glass was the one last thing I had going for me. I depended on it too much. Now, I face the consequences.

           I bring my knees up and place my head between them, curling up into a ball. I should just go home. I feel alone no matter where I go. Still, I want him. I want him to fight for me. To come running up and grab my hand and tell me he was wrong. That he'd do anything to get me back.

        But Lee didn't chase me then and he's not chasing after me now.

        Maybe that's what hurts the most. He just let me go.

         I shouldn't cause a scene here but I just feel like staying still and not doing anything. I just want to lay in this ball and protect myself from the world. What do you do when the last person turns their back on you, too? I don't want to be alone but I also don't want to talk to anyone.

        "Hey, you alright?"

         The world just doesn't give up, does it?

         I look up and gasp. There's a beautiful girl standing in front of me. She's tall, slender, and dressed all in black. Her knee high heeled boots look like they could kill. So do her dark brown, smokey eyes. Everything about her is dark. Her hair, her eyes, her skin. She looks exotic and someone way too cool to be talking to me.

        She takes the cigarette from her mouth, the cliche final touch to Cool Girl, and holds it between her index and middle finger. "Hey, you deaf? I said, are you alright?"

         I wipe away my cheeks in case I cried. "Yeah, I-I'm fine. Thank you."

       She nods, and plops herself down on the lounge chair next to me. Her legs are long and she folds them in a graceful way. She pulls something out of her jacket. "Cigarette?" she asks, holding up a pack of Marlboro's.

      "Uh...," I say but somehow today, I feel like I could use it. "Sure." I take one and it feels strange and foreign between my fingers. I've never smoked. This should be interesting.

        "I'm Jess," she informs me, taking out a lighter.

        I hold my cigarette out for her and she lights it. "Ivory."

        Jess looks up at me. "Interesting name."

         I shrug and then put the cigarette between my lips. What am I supposed to do now? Do I inhale or exhale or what? I decide to close my lips around it and inhale very slowly. Suddenly, there's this strange thing in my mouth and I realize it must be smoke from the cigarette. What do I do with it? Do I swallow it? What the fuck am I doing?

         The smoke travels down my throat and eventually I exhale and the smoke leaves my mouth and it's almost fun if I knew what I was doing. Jess doesn't talk, she just keeps company, smoking her own. I inhale and exhale a couple more times and there's this calm wave that washes over me. Must be the nicotine.

        Fifteen minutes later, when my cigarette is small, I think of my mother. Would she approve of this? Definitely not. How the hell am I smoking and throwing away parts of my life when she's on a hospital bed, fighting for hers?

         Immediately, I stub the cigarette with my shoe.

         Jess begins another one. "So, why do you look so depressed?"

        I look at her, surprised she's talking to me again. She just feels...too cool. She's just incredibly beautiful and I feel intimidated. "Uh, just problems. I feel guilty for smoking just because of them though."

          She opens her eyes. She'd been smoking with her eyes closed, looking very peaceful. "Don't tell me this is your first time smoking."

        "It is."

        "Wow," she says. Then she closes her eyes again. "Not bad."

           "Thanks?"

            Jess is quiet for another two or three minutes. "You don't have to feel guilty. You know...about smoking or finding outlets of reliefs. Sure, it's not the healthiest approach but everyone is different. Others lose themselves in music, exercise, art, or maybe even a hobby. For the rest of us"—she holds up her cigarette—"we only have this."

          "Still," I argue. "I just feel like a coward. Instead of dealing with the pain and emotions, trying to erase everything seems like running away to me. It's also not me. If you told me two years ago, I'd be smoking next to you today, I would've laughed."

         "Why?" she asks. "How do you know it's not you? Everyone has an image in their head of smokers and the image is partly true. It's destructive and people who smoke are stupid. But you can't judge people who need it. Without smoking or knowing I had something that could erase my tensions, I would lose my cool everyday. Sometimes, I don't even need to smoke. I just need to know it's there. It's a part of me now. Just be careful not to over depend on it. Sure, I smoke a lot but it's once in a while when I'm having a rough day."

      "Today a bad day for you, too?"

       Jess laughs. "First day of school and everything was just going wrong. But you know how it is. What's done is done and I can't spend time fretting over it."

         I nod. "I need to learn how to do that." Suddenly, the music that had been playing changes to the next song and a slow song plays. Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran. The quiet murmuring my heart had gone into is now loud and thunderous. It feels like it could jump out of my chest. "Fuck."

       "You okay there?" Jess's eyes are open.

       "This song...just...bad memories," I tell her. "It's everything I was trying to get away from."

         Her chocolate eyes look onto mine and as if she can tell just by a glance, she nods like she understands the pain I'm going through. She stands. "Stay here." When she returns, she has a blue solo cup in each hand. "One for you, and one for me."

        "What is it?" I ask when she hands me one cup. I sniff it. It smells strong.

         "You said you wanted to forget," Jess says. "For one night, just let yourself go. Humans were not built to handle so much pain. That's why we're all so fucked up. Drink this and I swear you'll forget."

           "Are you date-rape drugging me?" I ask, half serious.

           "You're hot but I got a girlfriend already, sorry, babe," she says, a grin spreading to her face. At least I made her smile. "Just try it. I promise to get you home."

           Partly because of peer pressure and partly because I want to try it and see if it'll really make me forget, I collide my cup with Jess's as we cheer. Then we both chug the entire cup. Whatever this thing is, it burns like hell, stronger than anything I've ever had. It's very different from any drink I've had at any of Peter or Brent's parties. My alcohol tolerance isn't that strong and I know I said I wouldn't do all of this because of Mom but sometimes I'm just selfish.

         Instantly, the effects of the drink make me dizzy.

         "Jesus, you're right," I tell Jess and she's gently swaying too.

       "Another cup?"

        "Yeah," I end up saying. Fuck the world tonight. Fuck Lee. I am Ivory Flores and I am done being treated badly by everyone around me. And it's stupid of me to treat myself badly but it's helping to distract me from the cut Lee and life caused so I'll do whatever I want. I need to fall completely down before I get the hell back up.

       Today, I give up and sometimes that's okay.

         But tomorrow, I'll get back on my feet and if I go down again, next time, I'm taking the world down with me.

           I don't really remember the rest of the night. It's a blur. Quick. Just as if my life is some movie or something. I remember dancing and nobody else really dancing with me. I remember dancing around boys and laughing. I remember talking to girls and them laughing at me but then joining me. I remember everyone laughing and it being a good time. I remember Daniel, who was confused as hell. One minute I was sober and crying and the next I was drunk and running around, eccentric.

I wake up in someone else's bed, feeling like there are walls closing around my brain and squeezing it. This is the worst hangover I've probably ever had. And though I should panic about where I am or what I've done, somehow I sit up thinking worse could've happened. Also, Jess did fulfill her promise on getting me home. Though, she didn't specify on whose home.

           Maybe I also don't panic because there is a steaming red cup next to me and a couple of painkillers set on the nightstand. Someone's taking good care of me.

           "Ah, princess seems to have awakened," a voice calls as the person walks into the room. I'm not surprised at all that it's Daniel. It also doesn't faze me that I'm in his bed.

          "Good morning, pal," I say and I can't really see yet because I'm still waking up but I grin and hope I'm staring at least near where he is. My hair feels huge and all over the place. Cute.

          He rolls his eyes. "What am I, a hotel service?"

           I try to move and get up but a truck runs over the insides of my head. "Jesus fuck!"

           "That's my saying," Daniel says, pulling a sweater over his white t-shirt. "And let me answer all your wonderings before you even ask them. Yes, I brought you home. You're welcome. Yes, I tried finding your dorm room but The Hitler was patrolling the halls so I snuck you into my room." The Hitler is the dorm leader. There are several but we all refer to them as The Hitler because all of them are strict. "No, I do not have roommates. This is a single. Yes, I did save your ass multiple times last night while you were highly intoxicated. No, we did not participate in anything dirty together. I am a gentleman but I cannot say the same about your courtesy last night."

             When he finishes, he