5. Zeke
1446 Words
5
ZEKE
We were on the golf course when instead of lining up his shot, my buddy burst out laughing.
I frowned. “Dude.”
He was almost falling over, but turned to me, raising his nine iron behind him. “Zeke! That is f*****g hilarious. Look!”
Brian was almost falling over from his laughter.
Jesus. What the f**k.
I got out of the golf cart and moved so I could see whatever this was. When I got there, holy…fuck. But I wasn’t laughing. Ava was walking across the green, but not in a way where it was obvious that she was on a mission or had a destination in mind. No. She was going this way, then that way, and going in a circle. She was walking backward. She was all over the place, and she was drinking from a bottle of vodka at the same time.
I drew in a breath as Brian kept laughing. “You know who that is? That’s that Ava chick. You know, the one who worked everywhere.” His laughter went up a notch. “We’d go to the pizzeria. Ava. We’d go to Manny’s. Ava. We’d go to Nooma’s. Ava. It became a joke, remember? We’d drink if she popped up somewhere. She was at the gas station too. Damn. Girl got around.”
One day I’d tell Brian how close he was to getting his face punched. Or how close he was to waking up in a hospital bed. I didn’t trust myself right now.
He sighed, his laughter finally f*****g subsiding. “I doubt she works here. She’s as wasted as I was on my twenty-first birthday.”
“Brian.” Finally, I could speak, through gritted teeth.
“Yeah?” He swung my way.
“Shut the f**k up.”
“Wha—she’s not in our social circle. What are you doing?”
Ignoring him, I started down the hill, carrying my own alcohol in hand.
“Zeke!”
I raised a middle finger in the air and yelled over my shoulder, “Take care of my shit.”
“What are you doing?”
I raised my middle finger higher.
By the time I got to her, he was gone with the cart.
Ava had no idea I was there. Her head was down except when she’d tip it back for a drink, and she was moving in a way—I saw the headphones. She was dancing, listening to whatever as I saw her pull her phone out of her pocket and skip to the next song.
It was a lively one because she began jumping around, her head going the opposite direction. Her arms were doing…something.
I wouldn’t call this dancing. It was more like flailing around with a baseline of rhythm.
I watched her for two complete songs before her eyes opened. Seeing me, she startled, gasping, and a screech came out of her at the same time.
I smiled and held up a hand. I mouthed, “Hi.”
“What?! I can’t hear you!”
I nodded, pointing to her headphones.
Understanding dawned, and she started laughing, pulling off the headphones. “Hi. Sorry. I forgot I had them on.” Her music was blaring out of them. She didn’t move to stop or pause the song. She was frowning at me, half-squinting. “Zeke? What are you doing here?”
I c****d my head to the side. The glaze was minimal. She wasn’t slurring. She was speaking like she was sober, and without the electrocuted dancing, she now looked sober too.
I was somewhat impressed.
“Right.” I motioned around us. “We’re on a golf course, where I do the normal douchey thing and golf a few times a week, and your question is as if I’m the one out of place.”
At my words, she jerked her head around, sweeping in the entirety of the Fallen Crest golf course. Her eyes were almost bulging when she focused back on me. She spoke in a shocked whisper. “What am I doing here?”
I was nodding, but I edged closer and reached out, taking away the vodka from her hand. She didn’t notice. Then I almost started laughing. She’d barely drunk any. Maybe two shots’ worth. “Are you drunk or not? I’m having a hard time telling.”
“I think I’m drunk.”
“You barely touched this.”
Her gaze snapped to the bottle as I raised it, and she looked confused. Her eyebrows came together before she held her hands up, both of them, and gasped. “I didn’t even feel you take that.”
She was drunk.
She raised her gaze back to me, her hands still up in the air. “I parked at Manny’s, grabbed a bottle, and just started walking. I wasn’t paying attention. Dancing, drinking.” Her voice dropped low again. “I’ve never drunk before.”
Whoa.
My head went back an inch. “Never?”
Her eyes still wide, she shook her head at the same time. “Never. I accidentally went to a party once because my boyfriend was the local Uber. He went to pick someone up and I had to go to the bathroom. He thought I went in to stay and join the party.”
I… I had no words. I was quite aware that most of my life, if there was a night I didn’t party, that was the oddity.
“Oh my God. You’re looking at me like I’m a freak.” Her face flooded with color, and she closed her eyes. She was still holding her hands up.
“Okay.” I didn’t know what was going on here, but I moved in, took both her hands, and lowered them for her. She opened her eyes, and there was no reaction that she knew I did that. “Have you eaten today?”
She shook her head.
“You want to eat?”
“Um.” She started chewing on her bottom lip, her eyebrows still pulled together. Then she stopped. Her face cleared. She blinked. “No. I need to keep drinking.” She grabbed my beer and took a long draw. I was waiting for the sputtering, thinking she didn’t realize she reached for the wrong bottle, but nothing came. She kept drinking.
I got fixated on how her throat was working, chugging that down.
She was taking long and slow pulls, and she kept going.
It clicked she just chugged a third of my beer and I had a thirty-two ouncer with me today before I grabbed it back. “Stop.”
She reached for it, stepping with my arm.
I moved, turning and using my body to check her. “No.”
“But—”
I raised the beer so she could see it clearly. “That wasn’t yours.”
Her mouth opened. She was going to argue, but she stopped. A gasping sound came next before she slumped, her forehead falling to my arm. It was raised right in front of her. She moaned. “Oh, no. I’m so sorry. I’m a mess.”
If two shots of vodka already had her wasted, that beer was going to finish her off.
I glanced back to the country club, but she’d be a mess there. I didn’t think Ava would want people seeing her like this.
Taking her arm, I began to walk to the parking lot.
“Wha—where are we going?”
“You need some food.”
She started to put on the brakes.
Nope. I wasn’t having this.
And I wasn’t questioning myself why I was doing any of this as I let her go, put both caps on the alcohol, and stuffed them into my pockets. I had large pockets. Then I turned, bent down, and picked her up. She was slung over my shoulders.
“Wha— Zeke! Put me down!”
I kept going. “You need food, Ava, or you are going to regret that beer. Trust me.”
Being slung over my shoulder probably wasn’t the best idea, but I didn’t want to waste time fighting with her.
She tried to raise herself up, so maybe she was thinking the same thing. “How do you know?”
“Huh?”
“How do you know I need food?”
Right. She never drank before.
“Of the two of us, I’m thinking we should go with my knowledge of drinking.”
“Oh.” She got quiet. “That’s a good idea.”
Food it was.
- Writer
