Thrust Into His Arms

I was busy just staring wallowing in thoughts and staring at my drink when I feel a tap on my shoulder.

K. I follow his gaze to see two girls sitting on the other side of the bar table. "Check out the blonde one." He whistles.

"She looks hot. What do you think?"

I instinctively observe. Fiery red hair. Colored eyes. Dressed enticingly in a skin tight outfit. Great curves. Perfect choice for a little fun time. But I am not interested.

I look away.

"What, No?" He is looking at me like I have grown two heads.

"She is very different. She looks nothing like that girl of yours. They nothing at all in common. Hair, eyes, body—

"Stop." He is making it worse. I did come here for a distraction to get my mind of Gweneth. But here I am helplessly staring at cognac in a glass.

I was here yesterday and the day before that. Same thing. I first tied it to the notion that it is because most of the girls I saw here had dark hair and eyes. But it wasn’t.

Nothing is wrong with the redhead sitting meters away. Her eyes and hair color are different. They’re polar opposites. I like going after hot, sexy girls because they are wild in bed.

But now I am as cool as a goddamn ice in a refrigerator despite me being surrounded by dozens of hot girls. I’m not the least bit turned on by any of them. I have tried but it’s not just working.

With my state of mind in such turmoil, it is not coming as a surprise why I can’t have desire. Living a life with guilt eating away at you constantly is not living. It is teaching me that there is a whole other meaning to survival. Because that is what I’m doing.

Surviving.

I had thought of her every single day in that hellhole. So much so that my soul became the one in pain instead of my body receiving the tortures. My own voice chanting in my head, telling me that it is my fault.

That I am a monster.

"Did you come here just to mop? This is not the place for that, Cal. You can do that later. But look around you, there are hot chicks everywhere. Ready to have a good time if you just hit them up." He urges.

"You got a lipstick mark on your face."

It must be from the girl he went away with a while back. I wanted to let him walk around with it all night. But now I’m using it as a diversion as he is not giving up on the issue of me getting laid.

Like it would solve anything.

"Where?"

I gesture to the side of his face, and he cleans it off. "Note to avoid girls wearing too much lipstick from now on.

Has it been on me all this while?

Wait. No wonder that other girl I was trying to hit on ignored me. Why didn’t you say anything?"

"For not going back to the hotel when I told you to." I answer flatly and truthfully.

"I can’t believe this punk." He flares up. "Hey you should be thanking me. If I wasn’t here right now you would be looking like the biggest loser in the world."

"That is because I am."

"I think you might be overdoing it. A heartbreak isn’t as wrenching as this. I have been there—worse.

I had a foolish huge crush on this girl and was planning on confessing to her." He narrates.

"And?" I say, urging him to continue. Part of me finding it strange coming from him.

"Oh, so now you’re interested in my story? I thought you did not want me here." He smirks.

"Keep it to yourself then." I murmur, gulping my drink. The alcohol burning a path down my esophagus. If only it can burn up all my guilt as well.

"I would if I did not need to make a point and compare it to yours.

In return, you are going to tell me the reason you and her broke up.

I nod, okay.

He has been on that this whole time. There is a chance that he must be making it up to make me tell him.

"So you see I was planning to let her know. But then she. . ." He trails off.

"What did she do?" I ask, feeling slight annoyance.

"I turned in as usual one night only to find her and my roommate going at in our dorm room. Right on my bunk because they broke his." He gulps down his glass and then gestures to bartender for a refill. His expression right now is one of deep hurt mixed with resentment.

But I can’t completely believe that it is true based on that.

I push, "And after that?"

"I left. How could I have stayed and watched them?

The most painful thing was that they didn’t even pause for a second.

They went on like I wasn’t even there. And they were not a thing before that. The guy just came out of nowhere and blocked me out of my chance. I made sure he regretted it. Her too."

This has my full attention now. Great distraction. "What did you do?"

"I set him up with some shady dudes and paid them to beat the shit out of him.

As for Angela, I gave out a fake rumor that she had herpes. It quickly escalated with new versions of more vicious lies, and they all stuck so much that she had to drop out and move to Tennessee to live with her grandmother.

Her parents are strict and quite religious. I heard that they almost disowned her.

She has been with her grandmother ever since." He ends forlornly.

"I ruined her reputation and made her leave. I did not mean for that to happen. . . . . I only just wanted to teach her a lesson.

The guilt of that was way more than the heartbreak I had felt from seeing the two of them together.

I hated the fact that it made me feel guilty. Guilt and heartbreak are a terrible combination, my friend." He sighs regretfully.

The corners of my lips move up in a small, sad smile. "Yeah, I can relate."

"Tell me yours now. What happened between you and that girl?"

"It’s an ugly story. In all sides, I am the villain. I didn’t orchestrate just one misfortune.

"Do explain what that means."

**********************

"You crossed a line." He freaked out after I told him about the times I bullied and assaulted Gweneth.

"You didn’t just cross, you erased it. That is unforgivable."

"I know."