Crash & Burn Read Online Free PDF Page A

have to hold his hand
     through every single thing, but I do. I do it because I fucking love him.
    “You’re worried about the wreck?” He looks at me like the question is completely stupid,
     like my words make no damn sense.
                  He’s really making a bigger deal than necessary for this accident though. If he weren’t
     so fucking drunk, he would know that we were going fifteen miles an hour through the
     intersection. The old guy was turning at the wrong time and hit us, at like five miles
     an hour. The car doesn’t even have a dent, only a long scratch. The dealership insisted
     we be checked out for insurance purposes only. Life happens. I don’t know what he
     wants me to do? Never leave the house? Fuck, maybe I should take up residency in a
     goddamn bubble attached to him.
    It’s not just what happened today though. I know it’s not. It’s so much fucking bigger.
     It’s so big it’s beyond me now. The accident isn’t what’s caused this, it’s what is
     bringing all the shit to the surface. This has been building, and he’s letting this
     shit weigh on him and it’s taking its toll. It’s wearing him down. Fuck, it’s wearing
     me down.
    “Tank I’m fine. You’re gettin’ upset for no reason.”
    “For no reason?” He says quietly; too damn quietly. I’m not sure what’s scarier. Tank
     being loud and raging or when he’s quite and subdued.
    “Yes Tank, no reason. You’ve been drinking and maybe that has you like this, but everything
     is fine, okay?”
    “Fuck Lil! You just don’t fuckin’ get it.” He explodes.
    My heart twists in my chest. I know he’s going through something, but he won’t let
     me in. He won’t let me try to help so I have no clue where to go from here. I can
     only stay at home so much before it wears on me, and I can only reassure him so much
     until it becomes just background noise. Nothing I do or say works, so I don’t say
     anything. I just stare at him and watch him slowly kill himself with worry.
    “Then help me. Help me get it Tank!” He only shakes his head. His face falls before
     he opens the door and walks though it without a second look. He shuts me out. Again.
    ****
    The room tips slightly. The floor feels sloped and uneven under my extremely heavy
     feet, but my body sways unprovoked to the music. God I hate this fucking song, but
     I can’t stop myself. If I close one eye, and squint the other one, the man I’m dancing
     with kind of looks like the thirty year old cowboy version of George Clooney. This
     was a good idea six shots of Jose ago. Tank left, so I called Peaches and she brought
     me here. Now my dancing partner’s too-tight Levis covered dick is pressing into my
     thigh and his small hands are roaming places that are going to get them removed.
    Why I said yes to Peaches, I’ll never know. She said shots and I was game. Probably
     not the best idea ‘cause drinking while on emotional overload never ends well.
    “Thanks for the dance.” I try to smile at him, but I’m sure it’s looking more like
     a squeamish, half-assed lip curl.
    I dodge grabby hands and head for the bar. I plant my ass on the stool next to Peaches
     and she looks at me for a second before we both burst into a crazy drunk cackle, hanging
     onto the bar and hanging off one another.
    “Haha! How’d ya like his jeans?” She laughs while thrusting at me like a fucking pervert.
     I can only roll my eyes, well at least try to roll them anyway.
    “I think they were tighter than your jeans.” I’m surprised she can move in those things.
    “But they were so fuckin’ sexy,” she deadpans. I can’t hold it. I laugh until my sides
     hurt and I have tears rolling down my cheeks. This is why I said yes … I needed this.
     I needed it so fucking desperately. We both just keep laughing until Peaches face
     sobers and her eyes narrow.
    “Jesus Christ, I told them it was girls night.”
    Turning my head, I see Tank walking toward me.