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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Drama · #1574288
sick and tired of being sick and tired
          Tiffani's lips met mine as she walked me into the counter behind that was piled with dishes. I could tell where we were going with this wasn't completely uncalled for; it felt planned. "It'll be fine, Vic," she whispered as she lowered her mouth to my stomach, and I gripped the counter behind me, "you took this crappy, late night restaurant job because of me. You can't honestly tell me eight bucks an hour is enough to satisfy you." Her blue eyes looked up at me; her blond bangs nearly covering her right eye. I couldn't deny it since I could've taken a better job. Her mouth went even lower; I looked up at the tiled ceiling, swallowed my guilt and closed my eyes.

          On the drive back to the apartment after my shift, I called Emily and told her I was on my way. "Alright, baby," I'd woken her up, I heard her audibly stretching, "I rented a movie if you wanna watch it?"
          I stopped at an empty red light. "Yeah, okay. I'll see you there in a few minutes." I ended the call and stared at my cell phone's wallpaper. It was Emily in a random field of wildflowers; she was wearing jeans and a navy blue shirt and her red hair fell towards her lower back. As simple as it was, it was still beautiful.
          The light turned green and I left the silent intersection feeling like a cold-blooded monster. Even if I hadn't started it, I hadn't tried to stop Tiffani. I let her touch me, I let her kiss me, I let her inside me, physically, not emotionally, but it still made me a piece of shit asshole. I turned into Withers and punched in my code to get into the apartment complex.
          Unlocking the door, I heard Nelly Furtado coming through the living room stereos speakers. Emily was in love with her. I walked in smelling freshly lit weed and to her singing and dancing to Maneater.
          "You wish you never ever met her at all," She came up to me and tapped my nose with her index finger then brought my face to hers and kissed me. I tasted Bacardi on her lips.
          "You had to start the party without me, didn't you Em?" I glimpsed the freshly opened bottle of alcohol on the kitchen table as Emily put her hands on my hips and continued to dance.
          The song ended and she started to laugh. I got the remote and shut off the music. She took a hit of her joint. "There was nothing else to drink. Besides, neither of us work tomorrow so why not have some fun?"
          She smiled at me. I couldn't believe her; the way she drank and smoked was starting to get out of hand and I didn't feel like putting up with it anymore. She'd wake up every morning looking worse than the morning before. I hadn't realized she had a problem until we moved in together a few months back; she'd be high or drunk or both all the time.
          "You have fun every night, Em." I grabbed the joint from her hand. "And I'm fucking tired of this shits smell all around the apartment." I walked over to the sink and put the joint out.
          "Hey, what the hell is your problem? It's just a little cannabis, Vic, it won't hurt you." She tried to grab my wrist but I pulled away.
          "Yeah, well I see what it does to you, along with all the alcohol you drink, and it seems like it's hurting you."
          Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened. "Alright, I see how it is. It took you that long to say something. You didn't say anything when I got those front row Tegan and Sara concert tickets, when I could've bought plane tickets to see my mom in Connecticut!" She'd done this far too many times since we'd moved in. The same stupid arguments. She brings up something she got me when I try to talk to her about her nightly drinking and smoking.
          I walked to the front door and sighed. "You know what, Em?" I said talking to her behind me, "I'm out of here. But I want you out of my apartment by tomorrow morning. I'm sick of your bullshit, I'm sick of your drinking and I'm sick of your smoking. I'm sick of walking around smelling like a fucking stoner because the smell stays on my clothes; I'm just sick of it, Em!"
          I looked over to her and saw her standing a few feet behind me shivering. "Alright," She said calmly, "I'll be out of your life by tomorrow morning." I saw a tear running down her cheek. "This was never going to work, was it Vic?" I pictured my hand on the dirty counter; my other going through Tiffani's blond hair. Without answering Emily, I turned toward the door and left.
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