Alcohol--Ryan

To E, ______________________________________________________________________________
“That will be seventy-five cents.” she said. Her long blonde bang nearly covered her eyes. Her light blue eyes looking down at the title of the book. A Raisin in the Sun : a used copy, a tear in the right hand corner of the cover. Her eyes slowly transitioned from the cover to our matching clothes, his and mine.
“So what is the occasion tonight?” she asked.
“We have a school dance in a couple of hours” I replied.
“What dance is in December?”
“Kingsball. It is the same thing as the Sadie Hawkins dance. You know, the one where
the girls ask the guys?”
“Oh, how great! Who asked you two?” she said with curiosity. Boy, was she in for a
treat.
“Well you see, it is a little complicated with two guys in a relationship.” I said, waiting
eagerly for her response. A pause proceeded.
“So you two like the same girl?” she said and I nearly lost my shit.
“No, we like each other.”
Silence.
Her ocean blue eyes looked down, not at the book, but down. Her face was
expressionless. The ocean in her eyes longed for a splash from a paddle, a wave from a family submerging themselves in the ocean for the first time, a swell from a storm in the middle of the vast ocean.
“My brother lived in a time where he had to hide it. He turned to drinking. The alcohol killed him.”
The alcohol killed him. I looked at E. He looked at me. We looked at her. Her eyes still down. The alcohol killed him.
The idle ocean finally started to swell. A salty wave formed at the corner of her eye. This wave would travel oceans away only to never to come return to hug the shore one last time.
E briskly ran around the counter and hugged her with his sweet hug. Me: I just stood there. I stood there with an ache in my heart. I made my way around the counter and put my arms around E. His arms around her. Three strangers in a used book store with their arms around each other.
I felt E’s breathe start to give a little tremble: something he’d done when he was about to cry. I held his shoulder. I didn’t try to keep his tears in because I knew he was thinking the exact same thing that I was. Me. The alcohol. Him. The alcohol. Her brother could have loved another. Her brother could have felt the happiness that E gives me with his every laugh, every “I love you”, every narrowed eye from his smile. He could have fell for another rich, tenor voice. He could have basked in the greatest of symphonies and concertos like my E and me.

E’s eyes now had motion to them. Gentle waves. Waves that immediately rushed back to the shore after departing. These gentle waves put motion into my eyes. “My love.” I thought.
I slowly let go of him and he gently let go of her. She wiped those sea salt tears from her eyes. Her eyes looked up at us so now.
“His birthday was in December and I always get sad during this time of year. I miss him. It’s been about four years since he died.”
I looked over at E whose breathe was no longer trembling, but whose arms were longing a warm embrace as mine were.
“I am so happy that things are changing for the youth.” she continued.
She handed me the book. I placed the remainder twenty five cents from the dollar in the tip jar. Twenty five cents was all I gave her.
I left the used book store with my book in one hand and E’s hand in the other. Walking through the doorway, I took one last peek at her. Thank you , I thought.
I looked at him; I looked at the boy whose “I love you” turns my cheeks red, I looked at the boy who made the Christmas lights so much brighter, I looked at the boy whose smile is the reason for mine. I sent a little prayer to God that a hand rested in mine instead of a liquor bottle.