My Best Friend's Bucket List: Volume One, Page 3

CHAPTER 3

  I Get Lorrie Lovitt Drunk and Learn a Few Things from My Uncle

  (Cynthia Garcia, The Lorrie Lovitt Mixtape Playlist)

  Lorrie Lovitt downed a third finger of bourbon on the rocks(that means ice). She was already hazy eyed and her size was the problem. Lorrie was more than likely legally drunk. Her slender and fit body soaked up the liquor like a sponge.

  I sat next to her nibbling on Nacho Cheese Doritos and sipping Mountain Dew Pitch Black. I managed to convince Lorrie there was Yager in the Dew. Death Cab For Cutie's song Lack Of Color played in the background as the booze coursed through her thin veins.

  “Did you call him again?” Lorrie asked.

  The defeat behind her eyes angered me. But Dick could not be at fault for this. The whole situation had run into overdrive. It was 6:34 p.m. This fiasco started at 3 a.m.

  “Yeah. His phone is either off or dead.” I said.

  It was partly true. Lorrie stared straight ahead at the blank TV screen, I stared at her, trying to soak in her looks and energy. Because she had alcohol in her system, my staring was not creepy.

  Keep in mind, creepy or weird, is only decided by those who witness what chicks consider “creepy or weird.”

  “You should lie down.” I suggested.

  Lorrie looked at me. Her eyes were glazed over.

  “You want to join me?” She said. Yeah she was drunk.

  “I can't. I have work to do on the computer.” I said, coldly.

  “But you make me feel good, Tuck. You make me feel the way Dick does, but in a different way.” Lorrie said. Before laying her head on my chest.

  Was I Edward or Jacob in this situation? Google the names together if you have been living under a rock.

  I cringed. My chest hurt. I wanted my headphones. Dick was my best friend. I couldn't touch her, she was Dick's and she really didn't want me. The part where she didn't want me, that part killed me the worst, I kept a straight face. Years practicing being a man kept my face hard, strong.

  “Yeah, well, I'm here to make you feel comfortable.” I said.

  “You make me feel sexy.” Lorrie said. This made me feel guilty. It scared me. I was not sexy to her, not her type at all, it sucked. But she was buzzed and headed down a drunk tunnel.

  “You could use another hit of bourbon.” I said. Taking her glass, I went into the kitchen, made her another drink.

  “Dick'll be home soon, huh?”

  “Yeh.” I said. Pouring her three fingers of bourbon on the rocks.

  I brought her the drink. She sat blankly on the couch. Friday I'm In Love by The Cure played out loud. My computer played it loud for Her.

  For the next few minutes I had a fantasy that Lorrie and I were berry picking. She smiled, I loved her to death, I knew she wouldn't love me the way women were supposed to. I could not shake her of Dick.

  “Just lie back, take a nap.” I suggested.

  “I'm just really worried.” Lorrie slurred. I took the empty glass from her.

  “You've only known Dick for almost 24 hours. I've known him for years, he's fine, trust me.” I said. Lorrie's eyes were now fighting the heaviness of her eyelids.

  “Maybe I can lie down for just a minute.” She said. I stood up allowing her to stretch out on the couch. Innocence by The Airborne Toxic Event was playing. The first line was totally how I felt for Lorrie Lovitt.

  “I lost my innocence today I could feel her in my bones...”

  Staring at a now sleeping Lorrie Lovitt, the two eyeballs in my skull suddenly burned, I'm sorry to report, but I cried like a school girl with a skinned knee. It was then that I decided to do two things.

  1Arrange a Lorrie Lovitt Playlist Mixtape.

  2Do everything in my power to fix the relationship between Dick and Lorrie. I needed her to be happy.

  In the bathroom. I splashed cold water on my face in hopes of getting rid of the severe redness only that level of weepage can bring on. My forehead still looked pretty messed up from the accident. I guess it could've looked worse considering.

  Lorrie slept, still. She would be out for a while. The computer continued to play depressing songs. She looked 10 times more like an angel. Her breathes were small and shallow. The urge to lie with her and hold her crept into my body.

  I fought it. Grabbed my car keys. Locked up behind me.

  In the car, driving. I realized that the route to Lou's Chubby Chaser Lounge hit 4th and Crest Ave. Right past my Uncle Tommy's place. He was enjoying his retirement watching TV on DVD the last time I had seen him. His idea was to catch up on all the shows he had missed while working all those years.

  Uncle Tommy had worked graveyard shift as a hospital janitor for decades. In that time he only slept during the day, ran errands in the evening, then went to work. In short, Uncle Tommy had missed out on a lot of TV shows.

  I drove down the main street to hit 4th. The chill on the air was unbelievable. The thick scent in the air was of Fall, Autumn. The cold air sent shock waves up my nose. Instantly the heart in my chest melted to a thick syrup. Autumn was teasing, but well on its way.

  That meant Halloween. It meant Pumpkin pie and unwanted turkey dinners. I always despised turkey but loved the fix in's. Mashed potatoes. Gravy. Stuffing(from the box of course), my mothers fruit salad(I made Dick learn how to make it, because I hated my parental units)that consisted of canned fruit cocktail and Cool Whip.

  There was one Halloween night me and Dick were on a Trick 'or Treat mission. We were both 21 years old. It didn't matter though. My size was plenty scary, the folk's handing out candy have problems with teenagers. Once you have hit the legal drinking age, they comply in fear of confrontation, that was our leverage..

  I only had to punch one guy, he was another costumed Trick 'or Treater, probably at least 18 years old. He tried to play a joke and come up from behind me and give me a scare. Even though I was dressed like Jason Voorhees. The kid had balls. But it got him a fractured jaw. No candy for him, for awhile anyway. That was the year I learned that no one should sneak up on me. I had violent defense reflexes.

  Dick's theory was that the reflexes came from the years of violence from my mother. She would at times get coked out and smack me if I spoke to her. She meant well, but I think she scarred some part of my soul, unintentionally. My father just took off into the night chasing various pussy and ass. Who could blame him? His wife was coked out and violent. But he was no prized piece. My father valued money and random pussy. He didn't have a sympathetic or empathetic bone in his body.

  I wanted them both dead for so long. The two were just toxic beings to the earth. When I was in freshmen year of high school, I fell for a girl, she was not much unlike Lorrie Lovitt. Her name was Cynthia Garcia, she dressed like Sandy from Grease. I wanted her more than the latest Nintendo game. But I would need help.

  I knew my father was quite the ladies man. I considered calling him, he had tried to contact me few times during the beginning of freshmen year, he wanted to reconcile. When I returned home that night, my Aunt, sat at the kitchen table, her eyes in tears. Her face redder than the surface of Mars.

  “What's up?” I asked.

  “Your father was found dead in an alley this morning. His, his throat was cut and his wallet was taken. He was mugged, Tuck. You won't ever be seeing him again, not that you even wanted to, you should be happy. Now you don't ever have to worry about him trying to reach out to you again.” My Aunt wept something fierce.

  I hid in my room and cried for two hours. Then I called Dick. We went bowling. Then I told him the news. He was more broken up than me.

  That seemed like another lifetime as I pulled into Uncle Tommy's driveway. His old Mustang was parked. I parked behind it. He was home and no doubt basking in the glow of his gigantic flat screen HD TV. One look and it's impossible to look away. Oprah could be on the tube and as horrible as that would be you wouldn't look away.

  I didn't knock, just walked in. The odor was of skunked alcohol, chili fries, fried beef. It wa
s cool and damp. The wallpaper was more faded than the last time I had been there. It was close to plain darkness. The light from the large TV shined upon the living room.

  Zack Morris and Kelly Kapowski had a conversation about single life. They both seemed upset and wanted to work it out. They seemed stubborn in HD.

  In the pleather wannabe La-Z-boy recliner sat Uncle Tommy. He was dressed in faded cargo shorts and a stained white v-neck shirt. Tommy sipped from a tall can of Miller Lite. His eyes were bloodshot and it was obvious he hadn't slept in days. He seemed very into the show on the screen.

  It was even hard for me to turn away from the ginormous TV. The height and clarity of an HD Zack and Kelly was amazing. I felt like they were having their trivial high school conversation right there in the room.

  “Hey, Tommy.” I said to the figure lounged in the chair.

  “Yeah?” He asked seriously.

  “I came to ask for advice. I'm at an all time low. The woman I'm falling in love with is in love with my best friend.”

  “That's life. What the hell do you want from me?” Tommy said.

  “I don't know how to feel. I guess. There's a part of me that wants the two to be happy. Then there's a part of me that wants me to prove to Lorrie Lovitt that she can love me.” I paused, I was visibly shaking.

  “I knew this was coming.” He said.

  “How so?” I moved to the edge of my seat.

  “I spend my days and nights watching TV. Television is just a fabricated reflection of reality. At some point all of us come seeking truth and answers. At some point we all feel regret for our actions and the way we feel.” He said. I was confused. Really confused. “So this girl is either not attracted to you or she is playing a mean game of hard to get. Or as Summer Roberts calls it 'The Hot and Cold Game.'”

  “Huh?” I asked.

  “In season two of The OC Seth Cohen is jealous of Summer and Zach's relationship. Summer tells Seth that he needs to go cold on Alex. She says, “Go Iceman on her ass.” Seth thinks she's referencing Top Gun but she literally means go cold.”

  “Look, Tommy, I have had a rough almost twenty four hours. What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “GO COLD ON HER ASS! Don't be sweet or nice or caring. Show her that you don't need her. See how fast she sings a different tune.”

  “How did you know I was being sweet and nice to her?”

  “I spend my days watching TV. TV is what raises our youth. It teaches men to be subservient to women. Of course you are nice and sweet to her, it's been spoon fed to you since the day you could physically open your eyes.” He paused, drained his beer. Looked at me for the first time. “Now go be an asshole to her, she'll respect you more for it in the end.”

  “I don't have it in me.” I admitted for the first time out loud. I felt tears forming in the corner of my eyelids. “Her face is too precious, her eyes see through me-”

  “OH, CUT THE SHIT.” Tommy said, “Grow up, Tuck. Would ya? You need help. I'll help you.” He picked up a cordless phone that sat to his right on a small table. He dialed a number, waited one beat, then the following conversation on his end took place.

  Tommy: “Hello. Hey.”

  Pause.

  Tommy: “I'm fine. You?”

  Pause.

  Tommy: “Good, good. I need your help with something.”

  Pause.

  Tommy: “Great. Can you check my mailbox to see if the mailman picked up a package I left for him?”

  Pause.

  Tommy: “Yeah. Thanks a bunch.”

  Uncle Tommy hung up the phone. Looked at me seriously and said, “Remember that sometimes, no matter how hard you try or how much you care, you just might be Screech Powers to her Lisa Turtle, you're not always gonna be Ryan Atwood to her Marissa Cooper.” He paused, then said these final words, “Now get the fuck outta here.”

  I didn't care to stay, though I was confused, so I left.

  Outside at my car I saw a girl approaching Tommy's mailbox. From where I stood she looked familiar, my stomach tightened. Though she was a good distance away and had put on forty or so pounds, it was her.

  Cynthia Garcia. The one that got away. The one I thought would be my wife.

  She noticed me and looked dead in shock. She stood still like a wax figure. Finally, after we both snapped out of it, she approached with caution. My heart hammered.

  “Tucker?” Cynthia said.

  “Cynthia. Yeah, it's me.”

  “What are you-?” She said.

  “What are you-?” I said.

  Cynthia said, “My sister just got a place here. Well, over there. My sister sometimes helps your Uncle out with things and he remembered me from when we were...” Her sentence trailed off.

  “Wow. OK.” Was all I managed to say.

  “Would you like to come over for a beer or lemonade? I mean, we have other things. My sister's out for the weekend, she comes back on Monday.”

  “OK.” I said.

  The living room was cozy for something so modern. A lot of metal and glass. The sofa was from Ikea. Cynthia bent over the table organizing coasters. She wore tight Capri jeans, black stilettos, red spaghetti strap top with a black cardigan pulled over, the top button was buttoned up.

  My body filled with lust just being this close to her. After all this time, one would think at this point the sexual chemistry would have ceased, quite the opposite. Cynthia took a seat to the left of me. She sat rather close. I could feel the heat from her legs on mine. Though forty pounds heavier it all seemed to go to beneficial places.

  Her chest more robust. Her thighs more supple. Her ass more shapely. I could smell the Paris Hilton perfume she was wearing. The scent intoxicated me.

  “What happened to your head?” She asked.

  “Car accident.”

  “Well, it certainly didn't effect your arms and chest.” Cynthia giggled. “You have been hitting the gym pretty seriously.”

  “Yeah. It's one of my hobbies I guess.” I said.

  “You still play guitar?”

  “Almost every night.”

  “How's Dick?”

  “Good.” I said.

  “That's good.”She said.

  There was a tension in the air, the room felt like it would explode, I looked at Cynthia's face. Her soft features. The tension increased as she met my gaze. I felt a rush of nausea, from excitement, nervousness even.

  “Do you wanna-”

  “What?” I said, fast, my heart going into overdrive.

  “You wanna see the bedroom?” Before she even finished the sentence I was on her.

  Our lips mashed into each other. Our groins created severe friction. I licked her neck and sucked on her bottom lip. She bit my face and neck. I pulled her hair until she moaned.

  Let's just say it got worse(better)as we undressed each other on the way to her bed.

  An hour later we got dressed. I stole kisses here and there. There was apprehension on her part. Of course things could not just be like they used to. That's why she was being apprehensive. It made sense. For the first time in over an hour I remembered my mission.

  “I really hate to fuck and run but I need to talk to Dick. He's about to make a big mistake and I can help him.”

  “That's OK Tuck, go to your friend.”

  “Is your number the same? I'll call you later.”

  “Don't worry about it. Yeah the number hasn't changed.” Cynthia said.

  I waved to her as I pulled away, back down toward the main street, there was something behind her eyes that wasn't right.

  My BlackBerry vibrated in the pocket of my jeans. I had completely forgotten about it due to the fact that it hadn't peeped in hours. I retrieved it.

  The screen said, Incoming Call From Auntie Fucker. It was Dick.

  “Hey.” I said.

  “Hey, man. How are you feeling?” Dick asked.

  “I feel great, man, seriously.”

  “I fucked up with Lorrie. I tried to fix it but I coul
dn't. I made that shit worse. I'm gonna come back and we can talk about it.” Dick said. I realized he thought I was still in the hospital.

  “I'm on way to you, man. You're at Lou's right?”

  “Yeah, but you're in the hospital-”

  “I escaped, it's a long story. Listen, Lorrie is at our place crashed out on the couch. I gave her some bourbon, she's fine. She wants to see you, she's sorry. I think at this point you both are.”

  “Tuck, man, how did you escape and get Lorrie to forgive me?”

  “I didn't do it. She did it all, dude. Just meet me back at the apartment. We can talk there.” I said.

  Me and Dick hung up and I headed home feeling great. On top of the world even.

  Twenty minutes later I sat at the kitchen table with Dick. We watched Lorrie Lovitt saw logs on the couch(that means sleep heavily for those of you that don't know).

  “She looks like an angel.” Dick said.

  “She is an angel.” I responded.

  We had hashed out everything. I told Dick of my escape from the hospital. Lorrie's interrogations. My visit to Uncle Tommy and my encounter with Cynthia. He was happy at the notion that me and Cynthia might be getting back together. I was happy that he'd finally seen the light and decided to give it his all with Lorrie.

  Some minutes later Lorrie awoke to find Dick staring at her. Of course I was there too, but you know how that goes. They were in each others arms kissing and squeezing each other something fierce. I fought the acid in my throat and tried to focus on Cynthia.

  Dick and Lorrie went to his room and closed the door behind them. I stretched out on the couch. Happy to be home and in my bed. The couch now smelled like Lorrie, this made me smile, I put on headphones. Set the laptop on my stomach and looked through iTunes. I looked at some of the songs played earlier while me and Lorrie sat side by side.

  It was time to try and put my focus on Cynthia. That was what Uncle Tommy had intended to do. Force a run in with Cynthia Garcia to force me to go cold on Lorrie Lovitt. It had half worked. Tommy had realized I didn't have the moxie to go it alone. In end he did help me.

  BlackBerry vibrated in my pocket. It was Cynthia.

  “Hey, you.” I said.

  “Tuck?”

  “Yeah, it's me, what's up?”

  “We can't see each other,” She was crying. “Ever again.”

  “Why not?” My voice cracked.

  “I'm engaged. I hid my ring when I saw you in your Uncle's driveway. This isn't my sisters place. I share this house with my fiancee. He's away on business.” Cynthia could barely speak now. Saliva and congestion took over.

  “OK.” I hung up before she could continue.

  I needed sleep but could not. The Lorrie Lovitt Mixtape Playlist was my next project. It took all of 12 minutes to complete. I was battling sleep at that point. There was also a half bottle of bourbon in my belly. The bourbon fixed the headache I had from crying.

  I fell asleep well aware that tomorrow was a Saturday and the beginning of a weekend with Dick and Lorrie.

  The Lorrie Lovitt Mixtape Playlist

  #1) The Everly Brothers – Bye Bye Love

  #2) Death Cab For Cutie – Lack Of Color

  #3) The Cure – Friday I'm In Love

  #4) Hawthorne Heights – Speeding Up The Octaves

  #5) Insane Clown Posse – Another Love Song

  #6) The Airborne Toxic Event – Innocence

  #7) The All-American Rejects – My Paper Heart

  #8) Fall Out Boy – 7 Minutes In Heaven(Atavan Halen)

  #9) Say Anything – Every Man Has A Molly

  #10) Dashboard Confessional – Screaming Infidelities

  #11) Say Anything – Total Revenge