Tweets
Search results for "relapse"
The first part of the new 143/Relapse collaboration is now posted.
Click the photo above to check it out!
SEVENTY2 PREVIEW
Logan:
“Do you not understand that we have a flight to catch?” I questioned, straightening on my stool impatiently. With the three of them laughing, it was officially a game now. Joe eyed me for only a moment before he fingered the hem of his shirt in contemplation. “Joseph, if you take that shirt off, so help me god.”
The last time we had met up with Nick and Avery, the girl that contrary to Ricki’s insistence, was only a friend of Nick’s, things had gotten bad. Bad as in, the poor girl woke the next morning hungover and trapped in a car full of partially nude guys.
By Joe starting the trip as obnoxiously as it was bound to end, I knew it was a bad omen.
“Give me some stripping music,” he told the girls as he watched me.
When an electronica song started blasting out of Ricki’s phone, Joe started swaying his hips seductively to the beat, tugging at the material of his shirt. He proceeded to watch me as he moved and his smile only widened when I shook my head and ran my hands over my face in annoyance.
Before he could manage to remove the shirt from over his face, or even appropriately react, I shoved off the stool and rammed my shoulder into his stomach, hoisting him over my shoulder. He grunted at the impact, but was too preoccupied with prying his shirt from his head to protest.
“If you’re going to behave like a toddler,” I told him as I carried him into his bedroom, my grip tightening when he started wriggling, “then I’m going to treat you like one.” When I lowered my shoulder and shoved him off, his shirt tangled itself over my head and he ended up pulling me down with him.
“What’s going on with you and Logan?” Frankie questioned, tugging on the seat belt strapped across his chest. I shifted into park as I stared out the windshield at the numbers plastered on the side of the apartment building.
“Frank,” I said with a sigh, unbuckling myself. I turned slightly in my seat to face him, pausing to watch Will jog down the apartment stairs. His pace slowed when he noticed me, and he turned immediately to look behind him.
When Kelly reached the part of the staircase visible from our parked car, a sharp intake of air broke the silence. She placed one hand on the railing for support and the other on her protruding stomach. I forced my gaze to my brother in the passenger seat, perturbed by the sight of my pregnant ex-girlfriend for reasons I couldn’t place.
Frankie was staring out the windshield with raised eyebrows, and a slack jaw. When he realized my attention was on him, he quickly closed his mouth, composing himself in a manner that showed more maturity for his age than he should have.
“I heard Nick say she was pregnant, but-”
“Yeah, it’s a surprise to me too,” I said. I was unable to keep the disbelief from my voice when I removed my keys from the ignition. Frankie unbuckled himself beside me as Will trotted down the sidewalk and playfully rapped his knuckles against the hood of the car. “I wish I could say the same about this day,” I muttered under my breath.
I knew of Murphy’s law. Very well, actually.
It resonated with me when I first learned of it in college. After all, my life was the embodiment of the adage. Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. Particularly when my past decisions, and relationships were involved.
“Joe, what’s going on?” Will asked, leaning against the car door when I propped it open. He ducked his head to peer in at my younger brother. “Hey, Frankie.”
“Hi, Will.” Before I could chime in, he added, “Is Logan here?” Will’s eyes quickly flickered to me before he chuckled nervously.
“Nope,” he said, shrugging off the door and eyeing his cousin over the roof of our car, “Just Kelly and I.” He eyed me pointedly.
“I always thought I’d make it, but never knew I’d let it get so bad. Living with myself is all I have.”
“World So Cold” - Three Days Grace.
“Everyone’s a let down, it just depends on how far down they can go. In every circle of friends there’s a whore. The one who flirts and does a little more.”
“Newport Living” - Cute Is What We Aim For.
“Joe?”
The chip in my hand dropped to my bare chest as the door knob jiggled, startling me from my calorie binging. I shoved the chip in my mouth before sitting up and brushing my chest off, reaching to mute the television as I stared at the door. They tried the knob again before pounding on the wood with annoyed force.
“What?” I questioned through my chewing. It was Nick’s voice coming through the door. Though I could only hear the reverberations of his voice over the sounds of my television, I knew it was him because no one else had the bravado to try and open my door.
The door was locked though, so the joke was on him. I smirked to myself before cavalierly lounging in my bed once more, shoving another chip into my mouth.
“Kitchen,” Nick’s distorted voice ordered, “And put some pants on this time.” I stared down at the flaccid shape through my boxers before rolling my eyes.
I had wandered down into the kitchen in my boxers one time. I had honestly believed that I was home alone. How was I supposed to know that Nick and some of his friends from work were going to be sitting at the kitchen table, or that a bunch of strangers would witness my stiffy?
When Nick had hurled an empty pizza box at me and yelled at me to go back upstairs, I couldn’t help but laugh. In taking my time getting a bottle of water from the fridge, I only seemed to piss him off more. His friends seemed to understand the humor of the situation, but Nick certainly did not.





