Another Short Story

                The night was long and her body felt weak. She was the girl that drank from the bottle, the one who deserved what she was never able to obtain. Instead she was kneeling on the ground cleaning up a distant friend’s vomit.
                “Peter, don’t roll in it!” She laughed. “Lay on your side so you don’t die, okay?”
                “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” He slurred in his thick Slovakian accent.
                She turned to the other boy who had three years on her, but she took care of him as if he were a child.
                “Are you okay, Ben?”
                “Just tired.” He yawned. His Belgian accent gave her chills and sent a smile to her lips.
               “Goodnight, boys.” She kissed them both on the forehead before stumbling into her room.
                The lamp was on and she was grateful. She couldn’t have turned in on in this state. She needed to lie down in a place where she wouldn’t be afraid, and the dark was her only fear now. Earlier in the night she got rid of the first; him. She told him that she hated him, she slapped his face and cursed the day she claimed him as her brother. She was free now.
                Her bare arms were shaking. The cool night air was never kind to her. She couldn’t close the window, for her weak bared bones didn’t feel any stronger.
                “Need help?” A voice hummed in the doorway. She turned around and found the voice belonged to the person she had needed all of her life, yet had only met thirteen months prior.
                “I can’t get the damn thing closed.”
                “Here, let me help.” He climbed over her on the bed and pushed the window down.
                “Better?” She only smiled in response.
                “How much did you drink tonight?”
                “Some vodka. Vodka makes all the bad go away.” She said as she allowed her fingertips to dance across her dry lips in a flirtatious fashion.
                Instead of leaving her, much to her surprise, he propped himself against the wall with his legs curled into his chest.
                “Why won’t you fuck me?” She asked, reaching for him. His ego grew a bit every time he spoke to her. Every conversation ended the same: Her offering herself and him declining and feeling guilty for leaving the blonde girl he loved at home.
                “C’mon, just tell me.”
                “You know why.”
                “I won’t tell anybody.” He began to giggle.
                “You’re drunk.” He reminded her.
                “I’m not that drunk. I’m the honest kind of drunk.”
                “Yeah…” He laughed again.
                “You don’t believe me, do you?” She had said this before, but never in this light; where her eyes were more green then brown and every mild imperfection he found on her was covered by the dark cloak of night.
                “I don’t have anyone to tell. My friends, they don’t count. I can’t trust them. They’re people, they leave. They always leave, just like you will in the morning. But it’s okay because I’m prepared now. Before, I let it break my heart. Now I know it’s just something that happens. It’s like breathing. You just get up and go. It’s something in your blood; you were born to do it.”
“These walls are the only ones that will listen to me, and they don’t care much for hearing my secrets.” He had just noticed she was playing with his palm.
“So,” She grinned, biting her thumb nail. “Fuck me.”
He thought briefly of the speech he would give his girlfriend before sliding his hand up her thigh.