Damaged Goods: Chapter One

Dave gets invited to a party, and finds the proverbial rug pulled out from beneath him.

The dust came up from under the tires and wrapped around us like a thick fog. It was smothering me, but I knew better than to cough. After all, these guys were all about "hard" appearances. Coughing, from what I had gathered, was not part of a tough guy attitude. Then again, that was when we were all taking hits off of rather large bongs at parties. Apparently, it wasn't okay to cough; like a f*****g peace pipe. Coughing would violate the terms of the drug addicts contract, and we weren't allowed to do that. No, we were expected to respect them. Probably to make up for the fact that they didn't respect themselves. It isn't my place to judge.

They had a way to escape, and they used it. I couldn't blame them. If I could escape, I would.

Mikey covered his mouth and coughed slightly. I buried my nose and mouth in a ripped up Lynyrd Skynyrd shirt, ignoring the fact that my diagnosis of the situation had been wrong. If you haven't guessed by now, it usually is.

He leaned back and pulled the back window into the truck open. We were going pretty fast. I didn't hear what was being said. Only loud voices and a few yee-ha's interjected by Chris. I remained in my spot, huddled up in a t-shirt, advertising a band that I barely knew, and definitely didn't like. My eyes scanned over the dirt roads, looking over the product of our labors. We were farmers. Nothing more, nothing less. I guess, this is what happens when your parents don't bother educating you. You turn into us. Closed-minded, religious zealots. At least, we looked out for our own. Whatever the f**k that meant. 

With a satisfied sound, Mikey flopped back beside me, pulling his legs up to his chest. His beer never left his hand, and his eight ball of coke never left his pocket. Smirking, he gestured toward the inside of the car with his thumb. 

"We're going to Alyssa's birthday party."

I gave him a small nod, and took another sip of my beer. Of course Mikey would be "stoked" that we were going to her party. Alyssa was a beautiful girl. Long blond hair, beautiful green eyes... a pair of legs that went on for days. Bountiful breasts and wide hips... And a stomach that any man would pay good money to see move, just to imagine what it would be like to watch it moving on top of them. 

Funny thing? I wasn't attracted to her. In the slightest. 

"It's gonna be fun."

"Yea." I replied, nodding, thankful for the sound of gravel picking up from under the truck. I wouldn't have to talk too much, even though I knew that Mikey would continue the conversation any way. Hell, when he started talking about her, he couldn't shut the f**k up.

"I think tonight's gonna be my lucky night!" he grinned, downing the rest of his beer. Leaning forward, he grabbed another can off of the rings of the six pack.

I did what every 'dude' would do in the situation. I smirked, took a sip of my beer, fiddling with my pack of cigarettes for a moment before putting one to my lips. I lit it, and blew the smoke out slowly. "What makes ya think that?" I asked with the yankee adaptation of the southern drawl. I guess, you can call it 'ignorant speak.'

"She's been givin' me the green light. Took her out last night to the farm." he smiled. Almost a retarded smile. Was this love? Was Mikey in love with Alyssa? I don't know. Truth was, I didn't want to know. No, I didn't care.

I chuckled and shook my head, once again pressing the cigarette to my lips. "She's been givin' ya the green light for the past couple o' months, Mikey." I was greeted to the punch in the arm. A few nonsensical drunken phrases were thrown at me. The only one that registered was "a*****e." I didn't take it seriously, seeing as how Mikey was now in another giggling fit. 

Was I this retarded when I was drunk?

Mikey and I continued to talk for the rest of the ride. Stupid things were said. Arguments were started, but quickly forgotten. When one was drunk, everyone was their best friend. It didn't matter who you were, just as long as you weren't a n****r or a jew. Well, that mattered to those that I hung around with. I didn't personally care. Regardless of whether our skin was black or white, we were all the same on the inside; all bullshitters. We were all on this fucked up ride, begging to get off, yet fearing that the platform wouldn't be there when we unbuckled ourselves from our fate.

Eventually, gravel gave way to solid pavement. Streetlights lit up our vision, and Mikey and I were forced to lay back on the bed of the truck. It was illegal to sit in the flat bed of trucks. It was a safety precaution or whatever. We didn't care. We were young and dumb. I would say full of come, but, for some reason, women loved us rednecks. It probably had something to do with the fact that we were the strong working class men that was willing to fight for something that we loved. I guess, that could be alluring to them, but I would never really know why.

I guess, once again, I didn't f*****g want to.

The sound of loud music came on and Chris started bitching and moaning about how 'n****r music' hurt his ears. A complaint that I heard more times in a day than I cared to admit. I liked the primal beat to it. It made me want to bob my head. It made me want to close my eyes and just listen. The lyrics I could give two s***s about. What moved me was the pulse; almost like a heart beat. Music was the only thing that I could really relate to. It was almost like... my God, in a manner of speaking.

It was the one thing that didn't judge me. It was the one thing that I could be completely, one hundred percent honest with.

While I claim to be apathetic, that's not because I truly am. I'm just full of s**t, putting a label on something that doesn't need a label. I can't be apathetic. I still feel. Hell, that's another curse of humanity; something we all share. I feel things, and I feel them strongly, despite my protests and complaints about how it's stupid to give into those things... Emotions. Emotions makes us all monsters. Music is the one thing that I can rely on to share those feelings with. I'm a man. I'm not supposed to have feelings. Definitely, not supposed to share them. So, I cracked open another beer, and tossed the empty can on the side of the road. That was the manly thing to do.

The cops wouldn't care about the fact that I just littered. They'd think that it just flew off the truck. Our cops were stupid. Small, blue collar town. Nothing really ever happened here. Except on the side of town that Alyssa lived on. But, that's a part of the story that I'll tell later. You're supposed to follow me through this, step by step, like a retarded kid that was put on a leash by it's parents. I'll take it slow, and attempt to not jerk you around too much... But it's kind of hard, considering how much I've fucked myself over... But we'll get to that in due time. 

With a screech, we pulled over to the side of the road. Redneck after redneck piled out of the red-ford-piece-of-s**t pick up truck. Mikey got out first, me following closely behind. Tommy climbed out and then Chris more... flopped out of the truck. We stood there, looking menacing in our sleeveless flannel shirts and tough work boots. We were 'ripped' in a manner of speaking with an air about us that made us seem as though we dripped  testosterone. We were two seconds away from flinging s**t at our rivals and pounding our chests. I guess, we were more... primitive than anything. Neanderthals in Southern Rock t-shirts.

The music was pumping inside. Once again, I heard Chris groan about the 'damn n****r music', but he would have to be calmed down inside. We all liked Alyssa. Well, "liked" being a loose term when it came to girls. We all wanted one thing. To get our rocks off. Well, all except for me.

Funny thing? I'm the one that cares the least, yet somehow, I manage to get laid more than all of them. I guess, girls like to be the ones doing the chasing.

Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I followed the guys inside. As soon as I entered, I knew it was going to be a bad night. Everyone was too happy. Clouds of smoke loomed at the top of the ceiling, dispersing as we moved through the crammed apartment. Couples were sprawled out on the couches making kissy faces at each other. It was gross to me. That display of affection in public. Sure, you're happy. That doesn't mean that the rest of us have to get diabetes. 

Shaking my head, I made my way over to Alyssa behind the rest of the guys. I probably should just pretend that I wanted in her pants. I probably should just treat her like the rest of them, but I couldn't. Why? Because for some reason, I couldn't lie to someone that was more damaged than me. 

As I approached, she dislodged herself from the rather strong arms of Mike to wrap her arms around me. I hugged her back, smiling weakly. "Happy Birthday," I murmured. "THANKS!" she yelled back, over the loud noises that one can only find at a beer pong table. Alyssa grabbed my hand and started dragging me away from the center of the mess. "I have someone I want you to meet!" she called out over the loud, pulsating music and voices of her guests.

She did this to me all of the time. She'd find someone that she thought that I would be interested in. She was constantly playing match maker. It was funny, solely for the fact that this girl has had more fucked up relationships than I can count... And I can count pretty high. I squeezed her hand though. I was amused. This was something that she couldn't help herself from doing. I think she believed that if she couldn't find happiness, then she might as well share it with everyone else.

The rest of the guys were pissed. I could feel their eyes on my back. I didn't really care.

Alyssa led me to the far side of the living room, and tapped a rather small woman's shoulder. Well, any woman in comparison to me was small... And Alyssa was also a bit of a giant, standing at about five foot ten. The girl turned around and for once in my life, I felt... alive.

A light auburn haired girl with ice blue eyes smiled up at her. She hugged Alyssa and kissed her cheek. "Happy, happy birthday!" she cooed before dislodging herself from Alyssa. I think my jaw literally dropped, but I picked it back up before anyone could notice. I couldn't look like an idiot in front of this girl... I was the master at keeping on a mask, this should be no problem. 

"Dave this is Maeb. Maeb, this is Dave." she grinned, resting her hands on both of our shoulders.

Mave..? What the hell...?

Her eyes fell to my shirt and a slight frown creased her brow. But, it was quickly gone. She offered her hand. "Hi Dave." she smiled, taking my hand into her own. It was a strong handshake. Not one I had come to expect from women. Then again, I didn't often shake the hands of women... They didn't really... offer it. Mine was weak. I knew it was. It wasn't an expected handshake. If it was, I would have put some firmness into it, but... she beat me to it. I should've known with her, I was always gonna finish last. 

A responded to her smile with a crooked one of my own. It was an egotistical smile that I had learned to adopt while hanging out with the guys.

"It's nice to meet you, Mave..." I said, pulling my hand back to stuff it into my pockets. It was a gesture that she took note of. I could see it in her eyes. Calculating, gauging.

"It's nice to meet you too."

"Well, I guess I'll head back to the beer pong table..." Alyssa grinned before backing away slowly. She saw the sparks. She knew it was there.

The rest doesn't matter. I guess I lost myself to those damn icy blues. Once again, if I would have known what was going to happen that night, I would have stayed at home. I wouldn't have gone out... I wouldn't have to fit the pieces of this broken looking glass that I've learned to call my life. I wouldn't have to keep stitching up the wounds caused by these f*****g cuts... And I wouldn't keep bleeding all over these memories. These few, precious, memories.

Author's Note

There might be a few grammatical errors! Kindly push past it! Some of the language used isn't appropriate for younger audiences. The beliefs expressed here are not my own! Also, I promise that it gets lighter after the first few chapters. Please don't let it be a discouragement!

Reviews

[Mischa Keats]

It is a little bit rough, but so far I like it! I'm looking forward to reading more from you. "I guess I lost myself to those damn icy blues" I really liked that for some reason.