Brian
Brian A car pulled up in front of the house a short while later. I sat on the porch steps, sucking on the bottle of beer I’d found. When she waved at me, her raven hair falling over her shoulder, I got up. Instead of leaving the beer like I’d vowed I would, I downed it, pouring the remainder into my gut. Waste not, want not, right? I threw the bottle to the side for someone else to pick up in the morning and walked toward the car, trying to look upright and sober. When I got into the car, she glanced sideways at me. “Thank you,” I said. “More alcohol?” she asked. I nodded. I wasn’t going to lie to her. “Sometimes a guy just needs to forget.” I realized what I’d said and clapped my hand over my mouth again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. About forgetting, I mean.” She shru
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