On Cloudless Days by Oliver Swinford - HTML preview

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CHAPTER 3

The start of a new semester brings the worst kind of people, because they’re all still in high school mode. They have no idea how to function in a place like this, so they resort to being fake to fit in, and then either end up becoming that person or remaining in freshmen limbo, where they drink their brain away and end up behind a desk from twenty three to sixty three, because they don’t know how to think for themselves.

I pass by one of the dorm rooms where kids are outside smoking, asking anyone walking by if they can bum a cigarette off of them, or if they have a light, which really makes you wonder why they would buy or have cigarettes without the means of lighting them.

“So, man, like does anyone want to come up and smoke tonight? I’ve got an ounce from a friend and it’s pretty good.” Some kid with a Bob Marley shirt says to a group of people sitting down around him as I wait for the walking sign.

“Yeah, that sounds excellent. Is it cool if I bring a couple of girls?” One of the guys says.

“Of course. The more the merrier. Just as long as they don’t have boyfriends.”

“Nah, they just got here.”

They had to leave their boyfriends behind. Those poor boyfriends of freshmen girls. It’s a good thing I never dated in high school. I just slept around. There were girls that I liked, but they didn’t like me, except when they were drunk, and then they seemed to like me just fine. Which means, they were either lying about not liking me, or their standards lowered significantly enough to the point of fucking someone they didn’t like when they were drunk. That’s basically what I’ve done all throughout college. Just…fucked around. Girls at parties, girls in class, girls whose names I can’t remember for the life of me.

So now, as Patrick so delightfully put it, I’m not seeing anyone or anything. I’m not fucking random girls or going on dates. I’m just going to class and hanging out with friends, which for some reason seems more satisfying than having a girlfriend.

  I walk into this diner where I’m supposed to meet Patrick and Sarah for lunch, but realize that I can’t find them, and there are a shit ton of people sitting down, eating or talking, and a shit ton is just a few too many for me to walk through and look at each table.

“Hey!” I look and see Sarah yelling at me from a booth in the corner.

“Hey, sorry. I didn’t know where you guys were at.”

“It’s okay, we just got here five seconds before you did.” Patrick says.

“Why do you have a jacket on? It’s not that cold outside.” Sarah is in a t-shirt and skirt.

“Because I get cold super easy. Why don’t you have a jacket on?”

 “Because it’s like seventy five degrees outside.”

“Well, when a cold chill blows through, I’ll be the one laughing. Has our waitress stopped by yet?” I ask, looking at the menu, at which I could point to anything, order it, eat it, and enjoy it, because I’m just that hungry.

“Not yet.” Patrick says. “But she’ll be by in a minute. As you can see, we aren’t her only customers.”

“Well, she needs to hurry up and get over here before I end up eating the sugar packets.” I laugh and they do too, and we all go studying the menus.

“So, why aren’t you coming with us this weekend?” Sarah flicks her finger at the back of my menu.

“What about this weekend?”

“Patrick invited you to come with us and you said you didn’t want to because you were afraid of feeling like a third wheel.” Patrick nods.

“Oh yeah. That. I don’t want to intrude.”

 “Oh my god, if we were worried about you intruding, we wouldn’t have invited you, dipshit.” I start to scratch at my neck, to pretend like I might have something else going on.

“Why don’t you two just go together? Have it be a weekend for just the two of you.”

“Because, there’s no point in going up there if it’s just the two of us. We already have our fair share of weekends together.”

“Why don’t you have another one? Besides, my friend Kate already invited me to a party on Saturday. Why don’t you two just come along with me there? It’ll be more fun than sitting in a cabin for three days.” Sarah pouts.

“You never do anything that we want to do.”

“That’s the biggest lie I’ve ever heard in my life. You guys drag me along everywhere. Like to that boring folk festival last month. That was terrible. I wanted to strangle you and Patrick.”

“Don’t strangle me over it. I didn’t want to go just as much as you did.” Patrick says, looking at Sarah who is shooting him death glares.

“Okay then, fuck it. We’ll just go to the party and waste our lives away. I was going to invite my friend Molly to come up with us too. But never mind that.”

“Your friend Molly that’s in the sorority?”

“Yeah.”

“Thank God. She’s dumb as fuck. That’s like being stuck with a robot that only knows how to giggle and tell shitty stories about her sorority life.” I say.

“Shut up! She’s nice.”

“She’s got a nice body. That’s about it.”

 Our waitress arrives at the table, and she’s a pretty large woman. Larger than the rest of the waitresses. On top of that, she’s sweating like a pig, so I trust that she’s had a taste of everything on the menu.

“Sorry to keep you folks waiting, one of the waitresses didn’t show up, so I had to pick up her section. So now I’m running like eighteen tables.” She brushes the sweat off her forehead with her arm.

“It’s no problem. In fact, we already know what we want, so it’ll save you a trip back and forth to the computer.” Patrick says, in a very understanding tone. Typical Patrick. If she had been an hour late to our table he would’ve said the same thing.

“I’ll have a Coke and a cheeseburger. Medium, with no lettuce or tomato.” Sarah says and hands her menu to Patrick.

“I’ll have a Dr. Pepper and a bacon cheeseburger, medium rare, with no tomato.” Patrick says, and hands the two menus to the waitress.

“I’ll have a Coke and whatever the fuck you decide is best off the menu.” I hand her mine, and she snorts.

“I’ll be back with the drinks in a moment.” She scurries away, and I can almost see a trail of sweat behind her.

The diner is still full, and people are still waiting to be sat. Families of the freshmen, more than likely. They look like it anyway. They all have on school t shirts, and look like they’re going to regret eating after spending a good portion of their money on tuition for these investments they’ve created. Lucky for me, my parents died when I was ten, and left a ton of cash for me, so I never had to worry about my tuition or anything else for that matter. I lived with my grandparents after they died, and my grandparents ended up letting me live above their garage in an apartment they had built. They let me use the money however I saw fit, whether it be buying a car, or anything else I wanted. They set aside the money for college for me though and told me that my parents would’ve wanted me to go. I ended up not spending a lot it. Ten percent of it, maybe, if I’m quoting my grandpa correctly. He said he was proud of me. I said I was sad that I didn’t spend more of it. That makes me sound ungrateful, but in all honesty, there was nothing that I really wanted growing up. I never wanted toys, or all of the other wastes of money that kids seem to embrace. All I wanted was a place to sleep at night, and they gave me that and I was grateful.

Patrick is the only one who knows how my parents died. He’s the only person I’ve told outside of my therapist. He’s the only one I could trust to keep his mouth shut. I gave him the go ahead to tell Sarah one day, though, after she'd continually asked questions about my past with Patrick to where both he and I had had enough of it. If Sarah had asked now, I would’ve told her, seeing as how close we’ve become. I have no doubt that Sarah and Patrick will get married. But when Sarah found out, she literally called me crying, saying she was so sorry, and that if I ever needed to talk to anyone about it, that she was there for me. I said thanks, that I was okay, and that I had to go, so I hung up and went back to eating. It isn’t that big of a deal.

They were both on vacation in England while I was at camp for the summer. They were mugged the second day they were there, but luckily, my dad only gave the mugger a little bit of the cash they had. Then, to make matters worse, the car they had rented broke down on the highway about an hour away from their apartment. A man had stopped to help them, seeing as they didn’t know what to do, and he shot both of them and put them in the trunk of his car, and got about fifteen miles away before a cop had pulled him over for a broken taillight. At which point, he tried to shoot the cop, only to realize too late that cops kind of expect that sort of shit to happen, and he was shot in the chest. They found my parents in the trunk, called my grandparents then they came and got me from camp. It was all one big, sad ordeal. And one of those ordeals that I can only recite from memory, and remember nothing about it. I don’t remember how I felt about it. I don’t remember crying at the funeral. I don’t remember feeling anything after it happened. It all seemed very unreal. Like one day I would wake up, and be back in my bedroom, and my dad would be whistling and my mom would be singing to it. But that never happened. I never got to wake up in the bedroom. I never got to see them again. I never got anything but the money, and I would spend every penny of the money to get them back, but that’s one thing you can’t buy. Not with all of the money in the world. And so I was raised by my grandparents, and they did their best to be parents, but even they said that they would never be able to replace the real thing. Like gold plated statues. They were never as good as real gold.

We finish eating and are waiting for the check, and Patrick’s eyes get big, and he tells me to be still.

“What is it?” I whisper.

“Ashley. She just came in.”

 “Oh fuck.”

“Who’s Ashley?” Sarah whispers to Patrick.

“This girl that he met at John’s party. The one that he’s avoided for the last week.”

 “Why are you avoiding her? She’s cute.”

“That’s not important. What’s important is that I avoid her.” I whisper back, kicking her under the table.

“Uh oh. She sees me.” Patrick lifts his hand up and waves.

“I’m going to pretend like I’m asleep.”

“No you’re not! You’re going to sit here and talk to her like she’s a person.”

“Hey Patrick.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Hey Ashley. How are you doing?”

“I’m doing okay. How about you?”

“I’m getting by. This is my girlfriend, Sarah. I’m not sure if you met her or not.”

“Hi, nice to meet you.” Sarah says, and then Ashley turns to look at me.

“Hey!” Her voice is so high pitched I was worried the glass in front of me was going to break.

“Hey, what are you up to?” I say in the most strained possible voice.

“Just meeting some friends for lunch. Have you gotten your phone fixed yet?” It’s sitting on the table, right in front of me. I can’t lie my way out of this one.

“Yeah, just got it back today. Erased all of my contacts though. So I’m waiting to get that all backed up.”

“Oh, shit. That sucks. Well, if you’re not doing anything tonight, would you want to grab dinner or something?”

“Tonight?” Sarah kicks me in the shin so hard I know it’s going to bruise.

“Yeah, like around six or so.”

“Tonight’s good for me. Want to meet me at Bogart’s on 3rd and Main?”

“Yeah. That sounds great. Here’s my number in case anything comes up.” She picks up a napkin and scribbles some numbers, then hands it to me.

“Okay, see you then.”

“See you then. Nice meeting you, Sarah!”

 “Nice to meet you too.”  Sarah says, waving to her as she walks away.

“I hope you know I hate the both of you.” I say, as the waitress stops by with the checks.

“Uh oh, never good to hate anyone” the waitress says, smiling and chuckling.

“I’m going to hate you if you don’t give me the check.”

“Ha, the attitude on this one! I better watch out. You all have a good day.” She laughs and walks away.

“I’m going to leave her a fifteen dollar tip, but only write a five dollar extra on the total.”

“God, you’re a dick.” Sarah says, and I kick her in the shin.