Chapter 7: Conceded
1067 Words
Julian West
The door opens up, revealing Henry standing with a bottle of alcohol in his hand.
He notices that I am staring at the bottle instead of just letting him in like any normal person would have done to their best friend of seven years.
He rolled his eyes.
“The MacDowell is for me, thank you very much.” He brushed past me, letting himself in. Since it was obvious I wasn't going to do that anytime soon.
“That s**t is not good for your liver.” I muttered, just not loud enough to act like I was trying to prove a point. I have also drank and was just getting high to prepare myself for the evening conversation. Walking back into my apartment, I look in the mirror in my passageway and I see the dull red-eyed reflection calling me a hypocrite.
Henry followed suit. He pointed around my apartment.
“This…” reversing his arm movement, “is also not good for you. You can't bake yourself out of your problems.” He said to me, His eyes were softer than they were in the car before he stormed off.
I sighed. “Yeah, I know…”
“Wait…” He stretched his hand toward me, causing me to halt.
“What?”
He raised his head in the air, his nose being at the peak point. Then he sniffed like a farm dog trying to smell the coyotes coming from a mile away.
“Is that Mac and cheese?? And—” He takes another sniff. “Meatballs??”
Henry's ability to smell the food anywhere was impeccable. Even after a blunt and a half worth of smoke in my apartment, he still sniffed the food out.
I rolled my eyes. “I have said this before, put your nose to good use. Work for Ramsey on the master chef show. You could make a buck out of sniffing out ingredients.”
I couldn't even tell if I was serious. I was just stalling time till the inevitable conversation about my upcoming marriage. And yes, I have accepted it for what it is. I might as well just get married. Henry was right earlier. Even though I didn't call no woman fat, going to that literary event and acting out was an even worse mood. I checked the chatterbox and there was already a clip of me telling the rodent face man that I was going to punch him. The comments beneath it…to say the least, I needed to fall in line with the arranged marriage or there would be an entire rearrangement of my life.
“Bro, are you okay?” Henry's voice chipped in my head. I blinked him into focus. His eyes are squinted a bit at me. He also looked worried.
“Yeah! Uh—dinner.” I point toward the kitchen and head there.
We decided to have dinner on the couch while The Office played in the background.
“You know…it feels like we are back in our college dorm again, binge watching series while skipping classes.” Henry mentioned, breaking the soft silence.
A deja-vu flashed in my head at an exact moment like this and it warmed my heart.
“Before things got so serious that I had to get falsely married to a fake ass influencer blonde.”
My mood plummeted just thinking about it.
He smacked me with the back of his hand against my chest. I crouched in pain because it actually hurt, he was wearing his ring.
“Ow!”
“You deserved that. She looked like a sweetheart. If anything, I feel sorry for her being forced to deal with your grumpy old man ass.”
I rolled my eyes. He had made it a point to let me know several times that there was a spirit of a bitter 70 years old war veteran living inside of me. The whole time, my body just hated to give me some dopamine to live with and give some color to my mind. I had long diagnosed myself with that problem.
“Wait a minute.” His eyes bulged open. I was scared they would fall out into his food. His hand grabbed my shoulder, further lengthening the element of surprise in his look.
“Are you saying you finally agreed to do Alisha's plan?!” His eyes pleaded with me to say yes.
And with all the grumpiness in me, I confirmed his suspicion.
He began to bounce on the couch like a little excited child that just found out they would be going to Disney this weekend.
“For real?!!” He squealed. I scrunch my face at the sight of his puppy eyes.
“Don't do that.” I warned him.
“Thank you! This is our only shot at saving your career and your ass. I mean…I am sorry.” He cleared his throat, withdrawing his hand away.
“What are you sorry for?”
“Well, it was kind of insensitive of me to just assume that you would go with the idea. Especially knowing the kind of person you are and all. It would be your worst nightmare.”
He sounded so honest, it made me feel better. And further validated the feeling I was having inside of me. I wasn't crazy for being mad at the idea. He was the one who was too comfortable with it because he wasn't getting on the Altar.
“Which is why…” he dropped the half plate of mac and cheese on the center table and did some drum rolls on his laps.
“You are looking at your best man and wedding planner!” He announced with top notch excitement that should have required the same energy from me. But between smoking almost two joints, eat a full plate of food. I was too tired to muster excitement. But I did smile nonetheless.
“Who did you think was gonna be my best man anyways, Martin from the publishing company who gives me heart eyes??”
“I am sure he wouldn't mind.” Henry shrugged, dropping back on the couch and assuming his initial position.
The dinner was done. The alcohol was untouched and yet, Henry found a way to pass out on the couch while I stared right at Gerald on the screen.
- Writer
