The City, the Mountain, the Stars, and the Booze

“You ever think this is all for nothing?” she asked.

“What? What’s all for nothing?” He turned his body on the grass and looked at her.

“Everything. Getting an education, finding a job, making money, living...” She gestured at the city below, vodka bottle swishing in hand. They were a good distance away from the reaches of society, but the city lights were still bright, and she squinted.

“Shit, man. You dragged me up the mountain to talk about this?”

“Nah. Wanted to get out of the city, off the campus, mostly,” she softly stated. Trying to see if she could see individual people from her spot, she gave up and took a swig. They weren’t too far out, but they had driven fifteen minutes and hiked another two hours to reach their spot on the side of the mountain. It was part of the public trail, but no one ever made use of the plateau they claimed. City people were too damn lazy.

“If that’s all you wanted, then we should’ve joined the boys and hit the club where they serve real drinks.” He pointedly swished his bottle of vodka and tilted his head back for a large gulp. His lips left the bottle with a smack and a sigh. “Burns real good. Damn.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Which club? Strip? Or the dancing kind?”

“Both. Could’ve hit both tonight, man,” he laughed, winking. “But I know you gave that kind of thing up, right? No more partying hard, picking up chicks, waking up on the other side of campus...”

She turned her eyes away and focused them on the tallest tower of the city, saying nothing and letting the silence stretch on. He grunted and shut himself up, knowing she would respond in time. Drink swishing in hand, he bided his time and let himself drink until he felt his limit approaching.

“Hey, ease off. I didn’t bring you out here to waste my stash and get smashed.” She snatched the bottle out of his hand and put the lid back on. Shrugging, swaying, he laid back on the grass and gazed at the black sky.

“You ever miss the stars?” he asked. Glad that his words weren’t slurring yet, he felt confident enough to look at his companion again.

“Are we ever going to answer each other’s questions?” she responded. Still, she leaned back and gazed with him. “Yeah, I miss them. I don’t miss home, though.”

“With good reason.”

“Yeah.”

“Yup.”

Listening to silence, they laid there. It was getting cold out, and everything was either dying or dead, so they didn’t have to worry about bugs or living creatures. Kept the drinks cool, too. She opened her mouth and breathed, watching white steam escape into the sky.

“This whole ‘all for nothing’ thing... Is accounting really that bad?” he prodded. If it is, he thought, then you really should have said something all those years ago before you started your senior year of college.

“Nah.” She closed her eyes.

“Then what is it?”

After a moment’s hesitation, she answered, “Forget it. Nevermind.”

“You can’t tell me to forget it if you bring it up in the first place,” he shot back. She remained mute, so he sat up, the world swimming in his vision as he did so. “Damn, girl, if you are just going to bullshit me all night, I am going home and leaving you here to walk back.”

“You’re welcome to try.” Confused, he watched her sit up, reach into her pocket, and pull out the keys, dangling them in front of his face. He reached for them. She quickly moved them out of reach.

“Don’t make me fight you.” He glared.

“You wouldn’t, and we both know it.” She smiled, the first time that night, and he scoffed.

“This childhood friend thing sucks.”

“Yeah, but it works out for the both of us, doesn’t it?”

They simultaneously sighed, glared at one another, and burst out laughing.

“Remember how everyone at school thought we were siblings before we told them our last names?” he chuckled.

“And then when we did tell them, they didn’t believe us.” They snickered together some more and talked of old times again, remembering the gas station they used to buy slushies at, the gaming store they first obtained their addiction in, the social studies teacher they hated in sixth grade, people they used to know and how he was convinced that Santa Claus was real...

Tension had vanished for a moment, and although they eventually slipped back into silence, they remained at ease. She set her bottle of vodka down and capped it up, rolling it toward her backpack and returning to her position on the ground. If she looked hard enough, she could see the stars. At least, she thought she did.

By memory, she could try and find the constellations even without seeing the bright lights in the black sky, and she attempted to do so. They faced west from their position, and armed with only that knowledge, she mentally mapped out Orion, Altair, Virgo...

They had laid there for so long that he was about to slip off to sleep. Her voice, however, pierced through the quiet and shook him back awake. “Hey... About before.”

“Yeah?” he sleepily muttered.

“I’m sorry. I... I’m a little... down on life.”

“I noticed.” He opened one eye and sniffled. “What’s got you down? Missing the booze and sex?” She laughed softly, and he knew she appreciated his attempt to lighten the mood.

“Maybe.” She glanced shyly at him and rubbed her nose. Surprised, he blinked.

“Wait, are you serious?”

“I mean... Okay, that didn’t come out right.”

“And the way it was supposed to come out was...?”

“I’m lonely,” she blurted out. Their eyes met, and he froze. Rubbing the back of her neck, she squeezed her eyes shut and groaned at the stars; he simply gaped without moving. “Is it that strange?”

“That you of all people are lonely? Someone call a medic ‘cause I am hallucinating,” he mumbled. After receiving a slap to the side of his head, he shut up.

“Damn it, take me seriously for once,” she growled.

“I always take you seriously. You’re the only person I know who hates her major and tries her best at it anyway, and I understood that you were never free enough to try your hand at a real relationship even if you wanted it,” he replied. “How’s that?”

“You’re right, of course,” she grudgingly accepted. He smirked, then his face fell.

“So what’s changed now?”

Nobody moved. The withered grass beneath their bodies stirred a tiny bit when a small breeze passed through. Then it was gone. In the distance, the sound of a wolf’s howl faintly rode the breeze and carried over to their ears. The call was mournful.

“I fell for someone. Hard,” she whispered. His forehead creased with concern.
“Are you telling me that you’re putting your major ahead of a potential girlfriend?” he asked, incredulous. She shook her head, and for that, small relief shuddered through his frame.

“It’s...”

He said nothing. Only turned his body to stare at her downturned face and grasped her shoulder firmly. His hand was warm.

“I saw her kissing a guy.” And the truth was out in a pained, raspy voice. Ice ran down his spine, and clarity cleaned the alcohol entirely out of his system.

“Oh. Oh, I am so sorry, girl,” he whispered back, wrapping her in a warm hug. He smelled like leather and booze, and the scent was comforting, more so than his whispered words and the hand patting her soothingly on the back. He had smelled like leather even back in first grade. Letting out a garbled laugh, she recalled that he insisted on wearing a tacky leather jacket at all times or, if it was summer, a leather vest.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” she sniffed, pushing him away so she could wipe her tears. “I should have known, you know? I really should’ve learned by now.” Her chuckle was pathetic, and he narrowed his eyes down at her.

“You know–”

“I do know. I know that I always fall for the people I can’t have, and that’s why I’ll always go back to the booze and the one night stands and forget it all.”

He said nothing. She stood up and stretched, gaze turning back toward the city. Even as late as it was, it teemed with life, and even from this distance, she could sense the life and depravity that echoed from every party, every club, and every bar. Wiping her eyes, she gave a wry smile and held a hand out. He took it and, with her help, joined her standing.

“Are you okay?” he asked. He was worried, that much she could tell. Shaking her head, she shrugged.

“As okay as I’ll ever be. I needed a cry,” she told him. Her voice cracked with the effort. “Thanks for being my shoulder to cry on.”

He gave her a small smile of his own and told her, “I’m here for you. Always. So don’t go giving me thanks now, you troublemaker. Save it for when you don’t need this shoulder to cry on anymore, and then we’ll start talking thanks.”

She owed him much more than simple thanks, but she swallowed her thoughts. They didn’t need that right now. All they needed was this. Their mountain, the city before them, the stars, and each other. And booze. Perhaps the booze, as well.

“There’s a lot of people in one city. Who knows? Maybe one of them will be Miss Perfect for you.”

Not giving any indication that she had heard, she picked her backpack and vodka up and began the long march down, her white breath escaping from her mouth with every few steps she took.

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(Excuse any inaccuracies with the constellations. I have no idea what I'm talking about there.)