The light flickered as it drew in through my squinted eyes. I didn't want to wake up to do so would be to feel the headache from the night before. I could wish it away and lay here for four more hours or I could get up. I do not choose the latter.
I feel a foot gently tapping my ribs.
"Get up! It's 4 o'clock, get up!," Dave says gently.
I wipe the mascara out of my eyes and onto the satin pillow case. My face is that of a raccoon big black circles around my eyes and trails leading down to creases by my mouth from where I the tears the day prior had landed.
I wasn't home.
I drank so much to forget why I would drive 8 hours back here. There would be no parties this night no, college antics. We graduated five years ago, yet we were still here; or I was here.
Dave had been in and out of college for ten years trying to overcome a conviction that had taken place, the type of unpleasantness you don't speak about in mixed company. We all knew that he was innocent, but not everyone believes truth when lies sound so tempting.
I looked up to see a collage of photos on his wall. The photos of cliques past, friends that now are distant memories and moments that I care not to remember. These weren't my memories... nor were they ones that I cared to remember.
"Give me the screwdriver! I need to do something," I grumbled.
He left the room as I placed my jeans on under my long shirt. He peered into the room and with a blush ran out chanting that he was sorry.
"Modesty has no place here, shut up and get back here, now!" I yelled.
He poked back in the room and held out the screwdriver. It was chipped and rusted with a black and red handle. I grabbed it and held it for a moment examining the flaws, running my fingers over the indented brand name that I could no longer make out. I then just kept starring past the screwdriver and onto the wood paneling of the floor.
"She's not there, Jen." Dave said.
I looked up at him and began wiping more of my mascara away. I attempted to straighten up my appearance but the smell of liquor somehow stained my clothes. I couldn't see straight.
"We can fit more! I know we can," she yelled. Here college sweatshirt was fresh from the dryer and smelled of chemicals and flowers. Her hair was amber colored and placed in a short pony tail.
I walked away from the car. It was beat up and periwinkle in shade with a pink racing stripe down the side. The car was full of about five men in the seats and two hidden in my trunk.
I walked towards the girl and slapped her on her behind playfully.
"Sarah are you sure we won't get in trouble? My car is only supposed to fit four?" I said.
She smiled at me and placed her hand on her hip. Cocked her head to one side and said in an authoritatively mocking voice, "We are only going 10 blocks, we can make it!"
We started to walk towards the car. I opened the door for Sarah from the inside. The boys were clammering on about how we wouldn't make it there before the bars closed.
I turned to look at her and saw her smiling at me. "Why are we doing this again?"
"Because we're "tipsy" and there's no other way to get a carload of boys to a bar!"
"They wouldn't be a carload if we weren't in a car, Sarah!" I said snidely.
Sarah looked back at the boys who were smiling and nudging each other for space.
"Just drive."
I run my hands over Dave's flip flops they are twice the size of my feet, but I don't want to bother with the effort of putting my socks on.
"Can I borrow these?" I ask. Dave nods as I'm placing them on my feet.
I start walking towards the door, wobbling slightly with the obnoxiously over-sized flip flops. I look back at Dave as I open the back door. He stands with his arms crossed in a robe.
"You KNOW she's not there!" He sighs. I look back at him and then back to the door.
"I've known that for awhile Dave, but it doesn't change things."
The door is chipped and dented in slightly I push it open to reveal the back of the house and an old parking lot facing a couple of garbage cans and a neighboring apartment building.
"Happy Birthday Brian!" rows of people started to chant through the living room and into the kitchen.
Dave ran over to Brian, a medium sized man with large muscles and a buzz cut. Brian was majoring in law enforcement and was already signed up for the Army it was his life's goal and dream. He never quit belonged in our group of hippies, liberals and and ultra lefties, but we loved him and invited him in as Dave's roommate.
Dave handed him a paper bag which Brian immediately tore threw.
"Jim Bean! How'd you know?" Brian said sarcastically.
"Well gee, Brian maybe I had a small hint?" Dave laughed as he points to the Jim Bean beach towel hanging on the wall.
I walked over to Brian and gave him a big hug!
"Thanks midget!" he said as I gave him a peck on the cheek and darted into the kitchen.
The kitchen was packed with people I'd never met or seen, but as I looked down I could see exactly why. There were three kegs in ice boxes lined up against the window.
"Jen get over here!" Sarah yelled. I made my way through the crowd and I saw her sitting on the counter with a space for me and a red plastic cup with her name written in sharpie.
I lean over and kiss her. Then jump onto the cold counter. I felt her put her arm around me. I looked over and I could tell that she's been drinking for awhile.
"Nobody mess with my girlfriend!" she yelled.
I just laughed and kissed her again but that time I didn't stop.
Standing on the porch I could feel the cold breathe all over my body. It was still winter and I started to have second thoughts about my shoe decision. I could see the place where Sarah's and my red plastic cups remained for two weeks before Dave finally picked them up after the party. I walked over to the neighboring apartment building and into the car port.
The walls were still dingy and cold with the stucko coming off. I walked through the wooden door leading into the apartments and up the carpeted stairs that smelled of old mildew. My hands traced over the cold railings and up the two flights.
I stood before a door with the number 6 in front of it. My eyes started to well up as I took the screwdriver and placed it over the head of the screw and started to twist it. I wanted to be gentle as to not awaken the tenant.
I couldn't stop thinking about how many nights I had slept in room number 6 or how many nights I had drank in room number 6 or how many times I wish I had made love in room number 6.
The metal number hit the floor with a loud clang. Startled and scared I snatched up the number and ran down the stairs and over to Dave's house with the flip flops smashing against my feet.
"I did it," I yelled. "I have the number!"
Dave just sat there against the bed as I walked over and sat in front of him with my back facing me. His hands crept out of his robe and onto my shoulders as he massaged them.
"But, you know it won't bring her back Jen... there's really no point to it. It's just a number."
I looked down at the floor and onto the flip flops. My eyes again started to tear up.
"But, Dave its her number," I cried as my fingers traced over the cool brass plates of the number 6. "Its my number."
