Coffee, Black
(Explicit Fictional Short Story Original)
I remember the moment so clearly. How the adrenaline gripped tightly around my heart and how the excitement and fear engulfed me. It was pureed happiness and hysteria... a concoction of foreign emotion that caused all my fears to bubble up and surface my pale skin. That’s the best depiction I can give you to express the way that I felt when I fell in love with her, although it was years ago. It was like she ignited a spark within the embers of my soul right as they were making their last bit of protest into the devouring darkness. That spark grew into this engulfing flame that pumped life back into my veins and every bit of me that was catching frost bite.
She had jet black hair and these adventure filled eyes that made my palms sweaty when I first looked into them. She was the most exotic creature I had ever seen and I say that in the least demeaning way. She was audacious, brilliant, and had a laugh that bounced off the walls and sliced through sadness. She was the kind of girl that has all your favorite qualities, the one you piece together in your mind, the one who doesn’t really exist.
When I was a kid I never fell for that fairy tale bullshit my sister tried to shove down my throat. She would tell me stories of helpless beauties that waited for their prince charming to come and rescue them from some bizarre, poorly thought out misfortune. It made me think that princesses were needy and unable to handle their own, which were traits that my sister did not possess. Although she read to me in good conscience and in attempt to comfort me on the nights that our Mom didn’t come home, I still felt somewhat of a void that never seemed to go away. Gwen is pretty much the only blood related family that I have that cares about me. Everyone else within my consanguinity has always been too tangled up in their own shitty lives to care about what’s going on in anyone else’s.
Although I was pretty cynical about fairy tales and constantly debated with Gwen on whether or not love truly existed at all in this world, I did have hopes that I was eventually going to find a girl and that we were going to be relatively happy… even if our “ever after” was more along the lines of “for as long as it lasted.” But shit happens and heartache fucking hurts and women eventually just turned into sexual objects to me that served their purpose from time to time. I guess I became that way because I was scared to fall in love, scared to have feelings for someone because then they could hurt me in a way I saw my Mom hurt. If love was anything close to what my parents once had, I sure as hell didn’t want any part of it. I refused to let my life turn into what I saw on sleepless nights, with my eyes squeezed shut and my head sandwiched between two pillows to block out the noise that my grade school counselors would later explain to me was called “domestic violence”. So I stayed away from all the drugs, the alcohol, and whenever I began to feel a strong fondness for a girl, I would just cut things off with her. I always did it before the “relationship” had a chance to blossom into anything more than what I had signed up for. People saw it as heartless and cold. I saw it as the only way to protect either one of us from a heartaching shit show.
I got my thrills in doing other things rather than chasing girls. My buddies however, loved to ogle the lineup of women who were way out of their league. We would go out to the various bars and the dimly lighted night clubs begrimed with smoke and I'd watch them just throw away their cash on big headed bimbos. It got to the point where I would lie about what I was doing to avoid boy’s night, but it didn’t really bother me. I had different pastimes, hobbies that feed my need to feel alive. I craved to feel the electricity of a thrill but I wasn’t much of a fan of how alcohol and drugs treated my old man or how I could never understand the words that came out of my mother’s wine stained lips. So, I did other things besides getting fucked up on the weekends. I surfed, I scaled mountains without ropes, I entered into drag races, and I even dabbled in motor cross for a while. I flocked to extreme sports like a vulture flocks to rotting vermin, but the one thing that I think I loved most out of all the crazy shit that I did was jumping out of planes. When you skydive a part of you gambles with the reaper. You tease him every time you gaze down at the puzzle pieces of land that connect below the clouds beneath you. I’ve always had this overwhelming need to be free, to fly, and when you feel the strength of the wind in your face and the beating of your heart in your throat it's a fleeting moment of freedom that very few of us get to experience. I guess that’s why I fell for Liv like I did. She was made from all of which I craved and so much more than I ever thought a woman could be. Unpredictable, scintillating and uninhibited, she was the most beautiful person that had ever entered into my life, nothing and no one could ever come close to being what she was to me.
She walked into the coffee shop and stood behind me in line on the day that we first met. The room smelled like strong, freshly ground coffee and rain. The weather outside was drab but warm, it was the kind of weather that makes you feel like you’re still in a dream. Her presence instantly peaked my interest, amongst other things… but I tried to play it cool. We waited in silence for the barista to make our drinks while I stared through the condensation of the window next to me. I was secretly thinking of the perfect dialogue to introduce myself to her with and hadn’t noticed my drink on counter. I was wrapped up in fantasizing about our potentially hilarious meet cute and I guess she noticed my inattention and grabbed my cup and handed it to me. The first thing that came out of her lips was, “You ordered the caramel drizzled, white mocha Frappuccino with whip, right?”
'Shit-shit-shit.' I panicked clandestinely to myself. 'Why the FUCK did you order the girliest damn drink on the menu? You saw her behind you, you knew you had a choice... I know you came here for one thing and that one thing only was the sweet, sweet chilly delight of that delectable frozen refreshment; but you sir, could have held off on the whipped cream and definitely nixed the caramel drizzle...'
“Uh yea. I’m just picking this up for my sister…” I said while turning away so she couldn't see my eyes bugging out of my head.... 'nice one genius.'
“Ohhh… your sister, huh?” she said mockingly with an unconvinced look on her face.
“Ok, seriously though, the damn thing is the most heavenly frozen treat that I have ever tasted and I’m proud to stand by that statement.” I saw the lift of her eyebrow and a smirk begin to smooth over her face. “So sue me for fraudulent masculinity! You probably ordered the same type of drink yourself, am I right?”
She let out a playful giggle as I watched her nose wrinkle and her eyes squint. She seemed to be interested in me despite my bad jokes. She shook her head as she reached for her cup then flirtatiously placed the lid to her glossy, pink pout. I glanced down to read what she had ordered and all it said was coffee, black.
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I replayed that scene in my head a countless amount of times while I sat in that sterile hospital room, breathing in the melancholy air, listening to her heart monitor like a ticking clock. I interlaced her chipped, pink nail polished fingers into mine and placed the back of her hand to the apple of my cheek. Her flesh felt cold and her stillness seemed illusive. I eagerly awaited to welcome back her dormant vivaciousness every moment of every day. The whiteness and fluorescence of the building was causing me to hallucinate and my head to pound, or maybe it was the lack of sleep. Either way I felt like my mind was leaving me. Only the browning, dead petals on the floor stayed behind to remind me of how much time had passed since the accident. Just three weeks ago, she was laughing with me and cracking jokes about the way that I twitch when I fall into deep sleep next to her in our warm bed. Her eyes were so full of life and beauty... her laugh, so genuine and obnoxious... God, I miss her.
I only looked at my phone when it would light up. The number of text messages and voice mails started to multiply and it soon became the only game that I had to play at my disposal. Guessing what ‘score’ it would be by the end of the night, and wondering how long I could ignore everyone until someone would actually show up at the hospital to see if we were okay. My friends and my sister were beckoning me to return to the real world but I refused to leave her side. My real world was with her, and she was in that room, within the deep wheezes of the short breaths that she struggled to take, and beneath that god-awful night gown wrapped around her perfect, naked body. I felt like it wasn’t right for me to live my life as anything more than the vegetable that she had become. She was on life support and it was all because of me. If I would have just grabbed my damn frozen coffee from the counter that first day and left without saying a word, then maybe she would still be living and life wouldn’t seem so damn cold.
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I didn’t drink for a reason. I didn’t do all the stupid shit that my buddies did because it ruined my parent’s relationship and consumed their lives… and now it was shattering mine. It was supposed to be a fun night on the town, she wanted to meet my friends and I always just wanted to see her smile.
I closed my eyes and imagined her little glowing face beaming up at me, and slowly I began to drift off.
“Is Jay-man actually coming out to THE BARS with us for once?” Richard said as he leaned in for our usual handshake.
“Yea man, I couldn’t let you go around for too long without seeing my angelic face,” I joked back. “I wanted to see what all the hype was about. I mean you guys are always out here reekin’ havoc and plus, I wanted to introduce y’all to somebody. This is Olivia,” I moved my hand down Liv’s back and pulled her in a little closer to me. She smiled that beautiful, crooked smile and euphoria surged throughout the entirety of my body. The pub we met up at was actually pretty quaint. Of course dirty, and had a musky, cigarette smell to it with a potent hint of Heineken that lingered around different parts of the bar. But overall it had a “Cheers-y” vibe to it. Everyone seemed to know everyone else, and I felt welcome even though I had never been there before. The people were all laid back and cool, the music wasn’t too loud and the drinks weren’t priced too high, well at least that's what I was told.
“Please, call me Liv. My Dad’s the only person who calls me Olivia, I guess besides Jason, apparently.” She shot a playful glance my way. “It just seems like such a grandma kind of a name to me, ya know?” she said back to the group. They guys nodded in agreement and I saw Richard take a glance down her shirt. He shot a juvenile eye brow wiggle at me, and I punched him in the arm for being a douche. He told her he was in utter disbelief that I could land such a smokin’ hot girl. He’s such a dick sometimes… but that’s Richard for you, and you just can’t help but love him no matter how he acts.
Liv motioned for the waitress, “So I heard you guys can toss ‘em back, huh?”
“Oh, I can 'em toss in all the different directions, honey.” Richard smugly joked. I looked back at my other buddy, Frank and shook my head while chuckling. Richard was going to make an ass out of himself whether or not if I intervened, so I refrained from making a undermining remark.
“Really, is that so? Can you catch too, because you might just catch a fist to the face from the looks of where this seems to be goin’.” We all belted out in hysterical laughter, except from Richard, he kind of just smiled to himself and nodded, taking a big gulp of the tall glass of Shiner in his hand. Liv flashed him a 'don’t mess with me if you don’t wanna get bit' kind of a look with raised eyebrows and he laughed in delight of her spunk.
“I know I may seem small and nonthreatening, but I will shut you up faster than you can feel yourself think!” Everyone laughed in amazement and I felt the guys start to put their guard down. I could tell they were enjoying her company.
The waitress approached the table with Liv’s beer and 4 shots, “How’s about a shot fellas?”
Frank looked at me with wide eyes and said, “This is my kind of girl!” I looked at the shot glasses placed on the table and knew that there wasn’t one there for me, and for the first time I felt ostracized and I didn’t know why.
“Looky here, I have a ridiculously high competitive nature and I’m thinkin’ in order for me to get to know you boys a little better I’m gonna have to challenge you in some drinking games.” She grabbed a quarter from out of her blue jean pocket and bounced it off the table into her shot glass. “I bartend at Landan’s Tavern three blocks down the road, and I could probably drink each and every one of you under the table by the end of the night.” She threw back the shot with her quarter and wiped her wet lips with the back of her hand. “I mean, that’s only if you’re up for the challenge. I wouldn’t want to put all you boys to shame, ya know… since it’s the first time ever meeting you, and being a girl and all.” She boasted jovially to the guys in playfulness.
“Ohhhh” They all howled in unison. I could tell they were intrigued by her unexpected gumption; she was as bold as the coffee that she drank. To her delight they were up for the challenge. I felt an ease loosen throughout my body. Their approval meant a lot to me, I mean, they were like my family in a sense. Besides Gwen, they were the only people that were always there for me.
“You weren’t lyin’ when you said that she was a feisty one bro!” Richard said right before he took another long swig, shaking his head laughing and looking down into his half empty glass. She grinned at me, looking up over her shoulder with those big, brown eyes and I felt my heart fill with contentment. With my guard down and my mind open for new experiences, my eyes scanned the group mischievously. I wrapped my arms around Liv and looked up at everyone and said, “Who wants to buy me my first drink?”
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I awoke by the wailing sound of Liv’s monitor; I was unnaturally slouched in the chair next to her bed and had a crick in my neck. My bloodshot eyes searched for an explanation of where I was and what was going on and realized I was just dreaming. I caught a whiff of my compiling body odor which offended my already confused senses. I hadn’t showered in a few days because I didn’t want to miss the moment of her waking up. Liv started convulsing and panic webbed tightly around my heart, suffocating me to immobility. The nurses came running into the room and everything proceeded in slow motion. I could feel the weight of my lethargic body pushing me further into the ground. The doctor grabbed my arm and threw me out of the door like I hadn’t paid my tab or something. Anxiety and fear engulfed my body and then the ringing came. The high pitched sirens inside of my ears dropped me to my knees in agony, my head throbbed and my eyes welled with anger, the nurses had to escort me to the waiting room.
I was numb, and my hope had dissipated into the fibers of the carpet beneath my feet. My sister wouldn’t stop calling me, it was like she knew... I finally answered, “Hey… Is everything ok?” Gwen asked softly.
Her voice was the most comforting sound that I had heard in weeks, and even though I was twenty-six, it made me feel like I was a little boy again. A flood of tears rushed to my eyes and blood filled my cheeks. The pain was insufferable. My voice cracked, “she’s gone Gwen...”
“Oh no, I’m so sorry Jason!” I hung up on her before I lost it.
I sat hunched over in the waiting room, barely breathing and with no kind of expression on my face. For the first time in my life, I didn’t know how to function. Twenty minutes later, Gwen burst through the automatic doors to the right of me, tears streaming down her face and arms open in the air eager to embrace me. She sat on the arm rest of my chair and hugged me like a child, still limp and frozen. The waterfall of her dirty blonde hair clouded my vision as she placed her head on top of mine. I felt my face burn and tingle with anguish and frustration. I reached up and held her arms that surrounded me, “Why did it have to be Liv, Gwen? Why did it have to be her?! Oh, God, why…. Why Gwen…” I wept through the moisture of my face and she gently stroked my short, chestnut hair. I asked her “why?” steadily for as long as my voice would carry the weight of it all until I finally found silence. We said nothing for over half an hour… and I had never cried harder.
The next few days after Liv passed, I lived piss-drunk. I still don’t remember anything, but I was told I was parading around like an incompetent brute. Slurring my words and shouting at random people, especially couples, telling them that “their love was never going to last!” and "I told her fairy tales weren't real." I lost hope in everything around me, in this world, in love, but most of all in myself. I wallowed around estranged, blowing my cash on alcohol. I should have never given into drinking the day I introduced Liv to the guys. I should have never taken her to that pub. I should have stopped drinking after I felt the floor start to spin. I should have done a lot of things…
“Jason, I love you okay? I love you. Please stop. You don’t have to prove anything to me or to your friends, hell they’ve known you longer than I have! They know you don’t drink. We’ve been dating for over a year now. I never wanted you to feel pressured to do anything you’re not comfortable with.” Liv’s voice was concerned and her eyes widened as she searched for some glimmer of sobriety in the green of mine. I spilled more than half of my glass of Dos Equis out onto the glossy cement floor while trying to place it on the table. A subtle wave of embarrassment shot through me as I bent my body down sideways underneath the table to see if I splashed any beer on Liv’s jeans. It had only been a couple hours and I was already 4 shots in and 2 beers down.
I was sitting on a somewhat tall stool and she was standing in front of me, even when I was sitting down I was still taller than her. I grabbed her hands and held them in mine, “I’m sorry… I felt excluded from you and the guys. You were all having fun drinking and I wanted to be a part of the moment. I’ve always wanted to know what drinking was like, but I was always afraid that I would become an drunk like my mom or even worse like my dad.” Liv looked down at our hands and picked at her pink polish on her nails. “I realize that my life doesn’t have to turn into a shitty sequel of my parent’s lives. I mean, I fell in love with you, and our love is nothing like theirs.” She looked up at me and grabbed my scruffy cheeks and softly kissed my lips. She pulled away but kept her hands on my face and her eyes shut. I stared at her while she sweetly smiled to herself and I couldn’t help but think of how beautiful she looked.
She opened her eyes in sympathy and said, “I’m overjoyed that you feel so comfortable with me, Jay. But you don’t know what you are doing. You don’t have a high tolerance for alcohol yet… I unfortunately do, and I know when someone has had enough. I need you to trust me when I say you can’t handle another shot, okay.” I felt the room begin to marry-go-round.
“You think I can’t handle it?” I couldn’t help but feel a mild shriveling of my masculinity. I wanted to retract the statement as soon as it came out of my mouth but I didn’t want her to think I was some kind of a Nancy-boy.
“I just don’t feel comfortable with you drinking this much. I’ve never seen you like this before. I’m really scared…”
That beautiful face could make me do just about anything, and in that moment the reality of my shame sunk in. What was I doing? A vivid thought of my drunken father raced through my mind and I remembered why I had been so resilient pick up the habit. I didn’t want to make the same mistakes that he did. I didn’t want to lose Liv like he lost Mom.
I got up and dizzily walked over to the bartender, I asked him for a tall glass of water and for the bill. The rest of that night is kind of hazy but I’ll try to remember as clearly as I can. We decided on taking the bus back to my place since the cabs were all backed up and the bus stop was only three quarters of a mile away. I remember holding her hand and a few street lights flickering above us. It was dark but the sky was strung with glimmering stars and the illuminating glow of the moon. She danced along the curb of the sidewalk while she serenaded me with a few of her favorite Norah Jones songs and we continued to walk down the less crowded part of the street. We laughed about the stupid stories my friends told her about me earlier that night and we kissed under the stars in the street, like love-drunk teenagers.
We were maybe 100 yards away from the bus stop when the car came, a drunk driver was behind the wheel and he was headed straight towards me. I should have died that night but Liv pushed me out of the way and her small body was pulverized. My reflexes were non-existent and I fell to the floor from her push, I was too drunk to realize what happened. When I opened my eyes to see where Liv was, I saw her limp body on the cement road, blood dripping down her face and wetting her hair. Then at that point I went into a frantic rage. All I saw was red; red blood, red fear, red anger. I pulled the guy out from the driver seat and I started to punch, and punch and punch until my knuckles were stained with his red. The scream of a bystander snapped me back to reality and I sprinted to Olivia. I lifted her fragile body into my arms and screamed for help. People were starting to gather and my blood started to ferment. “Someone help get these two to the hospital!” a man shouted from the crowd. A cab screeched to a halt and the people inside jumped out, thankfully they knew that I needed a ride more than they did.
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The room drew silent and a chill from the air conditioner blew calmly, everyone in the circle sat speechless, some teary eyed. I could feel my story resonating within them. I looked down at the white mug in my hand that held the strong, black coffee that reminded me of my beautiful love. I stood alone in front of a chair enclosed in a circle of Anonymous Alcoholics.
“I was and will forever be changed from what alcohol did to my life. Changed from what it did not only to me or the lives of my parents, but from what it did to the girl that I ever truly loved. I am here to tell you that you can overcome this addiction; I eventually did, after drowning in years of misery and guilt. You all have beautiful lives to live and love to seek out, love that I never believe existed but was damn lucky to have experienced. I was addicted to adrenaline and jumping out of airplanes, but when I met Liv the need for all of that just kind of went away. When I was with her, even sitting in silence made me feel excited to be alive.
She was the most witty, strong, and independent person that I ever knew. She taught me how to love, how to take chances in my life that didn’t involve a potentially painful death; to take a chance on something much more terrifying that… to care for someone more than you care about yourself. She made me happier than I could have ever thought imaginable; and our crazy love validated what I used to believe when I was a young boy. I was never going to find a princess… Liv was far more badass than ANY princess in ANY fairytale that I’ve ever heard of. She challenged me in everything that she did. She made me want more out of life, more out of love. She made me better. She made this world better and I couldn’t have created anyone else more perfect to spend my happily ever after with… even if it was just for as long as it lasted.”
