Lucas - When the Noise Doesn't Work

I need this week to end.

I feel like I’m suffocating, like someone is pressing their heavy as fuck shoe on my chest, keeping me from being able to take a proper breath.

Anxiety crawls up my neck every fucking day and the only thing that’ll make it better right now is a drink. And the only place I can get shit faced without being scolded or berated for it is at Devon’s.

After work on Thursday, I text him to find out of he’s home. He doesn’t text back, which either means that he isn’t home or that he’s already drunk in his backyard. I make my way over and hope that he’s not too drunk. I don’t want to have to drink alone.

At Devon’s, I park my bike in the driveway and venture into the backyard with my helmet in hand. I hear the commotion before I make it past the driveway.

There are at least twenty people in the backyard, littered around the swimming pool, crowded around the bonfire pit. I scan the crowd for Devon, who is standing in a corner making love eyes at a girl who is most definitely not Alexia.

“Ay, Luke,” someone shouts from the pool.

I look over. “Hey, Jared,”

“You good, man?”

I nod and turn around. “Dev,” I shout in his direction.

He doesn’t seem to hear me.

“Luke,” someone else shouts. A girl I vaguely recognise sits next to Jared on the pool’s stairs. “You gonna join us?”

I shake my head. “Not today,”

When I look back over at Devon, he has his tongue very far down the girl’s throat. The irritation I’ve been feeling today rises immensely as I stomp my way over to him, pulling him and his tongue away from the girl.

I pull him, despite his protests, out of the backyard. He tries to get out of my grip, but I don’t let go. I might be gripping him too tightly, but he’s lucky I don’t hit him over the head with my helmet.

“Dude, what the fuck?” he asks when I finally let go of his arm.

“What the hell are you doing? Who is that girl?”

He lifts a shoulder. “Monique, or Monica. Or something. Man, I don’t know,”

Jesus.

“What about your girlfriend, Devon?”

“What about her?” he asks me. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,”

“Really? That’s what you’re gonna go with?”

Lifting a shoulder, he says, “Why not?”

I nod. “You’re a fucking idiot. I’m leaving,” I say, turning around.

“Luke, you just got here,”

“I’m leaving.” I turn around to face him again. “Devon, you chased Alexia for five fucking years and you’re cheating the first chance you get? Are you kidding?”

He stares at me, not saying a word to defend himself. If I weren’t in control right now, I’d probably deck him.

“She’s Kieran’s best friend, Devon. We grew up with both of them,”

He sighs. “So that’s what this is about,” he says, shaking his head at me. “You’re not mad at me for cheating. You’re mad at me because of who I’m cheating on. Because she’s your precious Kieran’s best friend. Man, get your shit together and ask the girl out without making it my problem,”

I take a breath before speaking. “That’s not what this is about and if you really think it is, you’re a bigger idiot than I thought. And you clearly don’t know me very well. Come back to me when you’ve sobered up and thought about what you’re doing to your girlfriend,”

With that, I make my exit. I came here to cool off, to get my mind off the shit with my dad, but it only succeeded in doing the complete opposite. Devon has always been able to bring me out of the state I’m currently in. Today, he’s made me just as angry as my dad does.

I am baffled as to why he would throw away five years of effort he invested in earning her affection only to betray her trust. Being drunk off his ass is not an excuse. And to think that I’d be okay with what he’s doing.

Trying my hardest not to have a fucking aneurism, I take my ass home. I am fully intent on forgetting what I just saw as well as this week’s shitshow.

When I pull up to the house, Aunt Maggie’s car is already in the driveway. She was home early yesterday as well; to speak to me about the way in which I speak to Xavier. Apparently, it has become unacceptable. His words, not hers.

I park the bike in the garage and make my way up the stairs, trying to keep my breathing under control.

“Lucas,” Xavier calls from the kitchen.

I stifle a groan. “Not now,” I call back, jogging up the stairs.

Locking my door behind me, I fall back onto my bed. I scoot up the bed, pull a bottle of vodka from the nightstand and start my descent into bliss. My weed stash finished last week.

It takes me a while to realize that my dad and his news isn’t the only reason I’m reeling right now, nor is it because of Devon’s idiocy. The fact of the matter is that I still haven’t come to terms with losing the Darjees.