Connor

Spring 2002

During my freshman year, I’d found a band to play bass in—The Head Hunters. Nothing too spectacular, but it was cool to just jam out with some dudes. We didn’t write much music because we were mostly doing it for fun. The music I wrote, I kept to myself—unless it was for school.

I’d been working on this one piece, which I called “Liquid Sunshine.” It was fucking insane—a two-minute bass solo that, when I played it, reminded me of everything I loved about Alys. Deep, smooth, it sounded wet and hot, like pure golden love.

We were asked to play at a house party in Coconut Grove, getting paid fifty bucks each and free booze, so we said, “Hell yeah.”

I loved the Grove. It had an artsy atmosphere with an older feel—not unlike New Orleans. A bunch of our friends were going anyway, and two other bands would be playing.

As always, I wished Alys were with me, and I called her before we went on.

“Hey, Moonbeam,” she answered, cracking up.

“What’d I tell you about calling me that?” I asked. Then, I screwed up by laughing.

“You keep calling me Sunshine; it’s only fair. What’s going on?”

“I’m at a party, about to play. Thought I’d give you a quick call and tell you that I miss you and love you.”

I could practically hear her smiling through the phone.

“I love you and miss you, too.”

“What are you doing tonight?”

“We’ll probably head out for a couple of beers—you know, Dana and Maggie and me.”

Her roommates. They were like a light version of Kenna and Lili. Just there to fill the void until she could see her best friends again.

“Sounds good,” I said.

“Have fun, Moonbeam.”

“I love you, Sunshine.”

“I love you, too.”

The set went off without a hitch, and when we finished, I got my buzz on. I was just hangin’ with my friends when a couple of chicks came up, wanting to talk to us.

This one girl looked so much like Alys that I fucking got a chub. Big tits, fat lips, long light-brown hair. It made me miss Alys when she was sixteen with her hair to her ass. I liked her hair the way she had it now—it was hot—but I felt a sense of nostalgia for when she’d worn it long.

“You guys were great,” said the Alys look-alike. She was looking at me in particular.

“Thanks,” I replied.

“Do you go to UM? I think I’ve seen you around.”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

She stuck out her hand. “I’m Quinn.”

I took it, shaking it and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Connor.”

Not one to play it coy, Quinn dropped her ass next to mine. “I’m a freshman.”

“How do you like it so far?”

“It’s fucking awesome. What year are you?”

She had a nice voice. Not too high or squeaky or anything.

“Sophomore,” I replied. “Are you from Miami?”

She shook her head. “Panama City. It’s not far from Pensacola.”

“Yeah, I know where it is.”

“What about you?”

“New Orleans.”

“I wondered if you were. You’ve got a slight accent. Not too heavy or anything.”

“Yeah? You ever been?”

It was nice—talking with her like this. She was so pretty, making me ache for my ray of Sunshine. It was weird—how much she looked like my own sweet love. Not wanting to feel the hollow, desperate need of missing Alys, I decided it might be a good idea to drink until I was numb.

Quinn whipped out a squishy pouch from her bag, producing a fine Pyrex pipe that looked as though it’d gotten a hell of a lot of use. Then, she busted out a sandwich bag of some of Miami’s dank weed and stuffed a nugget into the pipe.

“You smoke?” she asked, offering me the green hit.

“Hells fuck yeah.”

I got pretty fucking wasted, and I was sure she did, too.

So, when I woke up in a strange bedroom, completely naked and without any idea of how the fuck I’d gotten there, I fucking freaked.

Sitting up, I had a good fucking look around.

I’m in a chick’s room.

My heart started thundering with panic. Slowly, I looked over and saw the woman I’d spent the night with. I couldn’t for the life of me remember her name, but I remembered how she’d reminded me of Alys last night. Not so much now with the sunlight revealing more of her.

I shook her awake. “Hey.”

She rolled onto her back, smiling. “Hey yourself.”

“Where am I?”

“Hmm? Oh. My apartment.”

“Where is your apartment?”

“Miller and Sixty-Fifth.”

I wasn’t too far from my dorm.

“Did we fuck last night?”

She snorted. “Oh, yeah.”

I’m going to vomit. For the love of the gods, why did this happen?

I took a deep breath, willing the hysterics building inside me to simmer the fuck down. I had to think with a rational fucking head right now.

“I don’t want our relationship to stop you from experiencing everything you can. If you get drunk one night and get laid, I don’t want you to freak out because you’re holding on to this.”

Alys’s voice slipped into my mind, whispering those words, helping me keep my shit together. It was like she’d predicted this very thing happening when I told her there was no fucking way it could.

“So…I gotta get going,” I said, getting out of bed and searching for my clothes.

The fact that I couldn’t remember any of what had happened after meeting this chick was scaring the piss out of me. Speaking of piss…

“I need to use your bathroom first.”

She lifted her hand and pointed to a door. She had a small en suite, and spotting the trash bin, I saw a used condom.

“We used protection, right?” I called out.

“Yep! I had them; you didn’t.”

I never carried protection with me because I was faithful to Alys.

At least, I had been.

I wanted to die. I wanted to curl the fuck up and cry myself into a dehydrated state that would render me utterly useless until I turned into a husk. I couldn’t find the strength inside to forgive myself.

If I can’t, how can I expect Alys to?

Drained and aching to haul ass from this place, I headed out of the bathroom to find the chick wearing a NOLA’s Junk T-shirt that just covered her rear.

“I’ll show you out,” she said.

I followed her out of the bedroom, fighting the bile rising in my throat. I was close to choking.

“Last night was great,” she told me.

I wouldn’t know, I thought. I didn’t think I’d ever been so drunk before. It was a miracle I wasn’t suffering from a worse hangover.

I shoved my feet into my sneakers and reached for the front door. “I’ll see you around.”

I made it out of the complex before puking my guts out in a hydrangea bush. The morning sun was too fucking bright, and the dizzy need for nourishment was suddenly overwhelming. I was about ten minutes from the dorm rooms, and on the way was a 7-Eleven.

I wasn’t the only asshole suffering in there. Several people looked wrecked, buying nachos and hotdogs, trying to soak up the stupid amount of alcohol consumed the night before. I grabbed a large bottle of water and chugged half before making it to the register.

Somewhat hydrated, I continued toward my dormitory, wondering what the fuck I was supposed to do. I couldn’t stand the thought of not telling Alys, yet…I was so scared. I never wanted her to find out that I’d done this, but I’d never be able to live with myself if I didn’t come clean.

I made it to my dorm room and not a roommate in sight. I decided to take my chances and have a shower where I cranked the fucking heat, as though the borderline-boiling water could somehow cleanse the filth of what I’d become.

Back in my room, I picked up my cell phone…and stared at it for a good ten minutes. I didn’t know when my roommates would be back. It was still fucking early, and no doubt, they’d crashed where they landed last night at whatever party or chick’s place they’d gone to.

Do it. You have to do it. You can’t be a pussy about this. Alys deserves the fucking truth.

I dialed the number to her personal landline.

One ring.

Two.

Three.

“Hello?”

Her sleepy voice filled my ear, and I could imagine the sight of her, snuggled in bed, her eyes barely able to open.

And I fucking broke.