about tonight. I didn’t even know she was a writer.
I had a feeling she was maybe a little bummed out herself about what happened yesterday. But when I texted her to ask if she was okay, she’d replied, Just really want to get some work done.
She’d also assured me, again, that Cary just needed some alone time. So I was doing my best to give him that, rather than plaster myself to his windows and beg him to speak to me.
My plan was to spend the rest of the night drinking chilled vodka shots with dill pickles and hunks of pumpernickel bread, with my best friend and three rock stars. Xander was well-versed in the tradition, so he explained it to the rest of them. Which was good because I didn’t have the will to do it. I was too sad, preoccupied and using my entire life force to keep breathing through my devastation.
Right now it was just me, the support of my best friend, a bunch of booze and one moment at a time to get me through this.
I could barely digest anything else, mentally or physically.
I’d done my best to choke down some fried chicken when Danica ordered in for us and forced me to eat. I’d washed down the bakery treats she served up for dessert with the wine she poured. Then Ash cleared off the coffee table and we convened around it for the vodka drinking.
As I arranged my ass on the floor by the coffee table, Ash put some music on, and Xander complained, “Enough Snoop Dogg already.”
“What’s wrong with Snoop?” Danica said, plunking down next to him on the couch.
“Not much,” Xander said, “if I didn’t have to hear it every time I come over here.”
“What do you want?” Ash said. “‘Moby Dick’ on repeat, so you can jack off to Bonzo?”
“Who’s Bonzo?” Danica said. “Isn’t it Bono?”
“She’s so cute,” Xander said, and patted Danica’s knee.
“It’s John Bonham’s nickname,” I informed my best friend. “Led Zeppelin’s drummer.”
“Oh.” She laughed.
“Don’t patronize her because she doesn’t know the names of every famous drummer,” I said, flicking Xander’s knee.
“What? I’m not patronizing. She is cute.”
“Aw,” Danica said. “Thanks, Xan.”
“Hey, yahoos,” Matt interjected. “You’re all irrelevant. Taylor gets to choose the music tonight.”
“Why?” Xander blinked at him.
“Can’t you see she’s bummed? She’s literally sitting on the floor in pajamas, drinking wine from the bottle.”
All true. I’d put on my sweats before dinner in my commitment to doing nothing of importance with the rest of my day—and these sweats were clearly of the jammies variety, not workout gear.
They all looked at me. Ash was still standing, phone in hand, mid music selection. The rest of them were sitting on furniture, properly dressed and drinking out of actual glasses.
“I’ll get a glass.” Danica popped up to get one. She passed it to me and I poured a glass of wine.
They were all still looking at me as I took a deep swig. I’d only told Danica the reason for my funk, and she was sworn to secrecy. They all seemed to be waiting for some explanation, but fuck no, they weren’t getting one.
“Fine,” I relented. “I’ll have Twenty One Pilots, ‘My Blood,’ please. And if you love me at all, you’ll just put it on repeat.”
“Done.” Ash put the song on for me in the background and came to sit on the floor across the coffee table from me.
Matt, who was sitting on an ottoman, pulled up to the table and poured us out a round of vodka shots. “So, we each get a shot, a pickle, and a piece of bread?” He slid a shot across the table toward each of us.
“Really not important.” I threw back my shot to wash down my wine, not even waiting for the rest of them. “Vodka’s the important part. Pickle and bread are at your leisure.” I glanced at Xander on the couch. “Amiright?”
“Yup. Nailed it.” He lifted his shot, the rest of them toasted, and we all helped ourselves to pickles and bread as desired.
“That wasn’t bad,” Danica remarked. “I thought it would be stronger, but it’s so cold and thick, it slides down nice.”
“That’s what she said,” Xander quipped.
I snorted.
We had another shot.
Then we briefly argued over whether or not to drag our asses out to the bar. Matt’s weather app said there was a ten-percent chance of rain and Xander decided we were too lazy, I decided I was too pathetic, and Danica suggested we play a game instead.