EMOTIONAL DISTANCE

October

It was in the 50's and Paul was wearing a deep v-neck leopard print shirt made out of cheap fabric that did little to protect him from the cold. The mullet wig and the mustache helped keep his face warm and the Fireball kept the rest of him warm.

A tiger, Carole Baskin, two Navarro cheerleaders, a generic cat, Freddie Kruger, and a handful of friends too lazy to dress up huddled around the outdoor fire pit. Carole Baskin's parents wouldn't allow an indoor party. They were COVID-paranoid.

Paul had invited Adrienne. He wanted to show her off.

"Funny," she had said.

"Seriously. You should come."

She had just laughed. There was absolutely no way she'd go. Instead she'd be watching Netflix and eating the KitKats her mother bought "just incase" kids showed up to the door. Which, none did.

Paul texted her the address anyway.

All throughout the party he would check the side of the house where the gate was. He kept imagining that he'd see her appear.

"Yo." His friend shouted from across the flames. "Your chick not coming?"

After the parking lot incident, Paul and Adrienne hooked up two more times. Another time in his car and the third time at Adrienne's when her parents were asleep. The third time made Paul feel a little bit used because once it was over, Adrienne demanded that he leave. He couldn't stay over. Her excuse was that she and her parents all woke up at 7 every morning and had coffee together, and that it would be unusual if Adrienne was still in bed.

After that, Paul started bragging to his guy friends. The immediate praise made him feel better about the whole thing. But the girls were all giving him the cold shoulder.

"It's gross," his ex, the tiger, said. Paul would've thought she looked sexy before, but now she just looked young and underdeveloped. Her thighs didn't touch. Her shoulders looked like a coat rack. Her chest was flat.

"Practically illegal," Carole Baskin agreed.

"Aren't women supposed to be raising each other up, not bringing them down?" one of the guys said.

The girls rolled their eyes and groaned in response. "Shut up, Friedman."

"Come on. You're just jealous," Paul slurred. He pointed his beer at the tiger.

"Really Paul? Really?" The tiger's voice cracked.

Within seconds, all of the girls were simultaneously consoling the tiger while barking at Paul. Carole Baskin gave the guys the evil-eye, forcing them to be on their side even though Paul could tell one of his friends thought the whole thing was funny.

Paul was turned off by the immaturity and he wanted to leave, but he couldn't drive.

"I can't drive," he said when Adrienne picked up the phone. She was just filling up a glass of water to take to bed.

"Get an Uber," she said.

"There aren't any. Please?"

She put on a pair of slippers and got in her car.

He was waiting on the side of the road. He'd taken the wig off and left it on the front lawn of Carole Baskin's house. Adrienne thought he looked fucking ridiculous.

"What's your address?" she asked when he got in the car. His answer was to lean in and lick her cheek. She entertained his drunkenness for a second.

"Alright, alright. That's enough. Tell me where you live."

"Take me to yours."

"No. I'm taking you home."

"No." Paul folded his arms and his head lolled forward.

"Come on, Paul. I'm tired."

"Nope." He smirked at her and his eyes rolled around.

Adrienne grasped at one of his pockets where she hoped his wallet was. He pulled the wallet from her before she had a good grip on it and threw it out the window.

"Oh my god," Adrienne said. "Get out of the car."

Paul blinked at her slowly.

"Get out."

"No."

"Get out of my car."

"Let's get in the back." Paul reached out for her hand, his arm flopped against the console in slow motion. Adrienne moved out of his reach.

"Get the fuck out of my car! Get out!"

"Come on."

"Get out of my car. Get out of MY CAR. GET OUT OF MY CAR." Adrienne kept repeating it, her voice growing louder to drown out Paul's refusals.

He was watching himself act like a buffoon and he was unable to stop. Finally he couldn't take it anymore.

"Fine!" He forced the door open so it swung back and hit his hip as he stumbled out. Was the car punishing him too? He walked two steps onto the grass and turned around. "Happy?"

Adrienne leaned over the console. "Close the door."

Paul slammed it closed. "Fuck you."

Adrienne drove away.

"Hey!" Paul shouted. He didn't want to move. He just stood in the grass, waving his arms and screaming for her to come back because he assumed she would. 

----

Have you ever been in a scenario when your friend is so obnoxiously drunk that he/she won't accept your help? Frustrating right? 

This actually happened to me once. I didn't know where my friend lived and he refused to tell me. I wish I left him on the side of the road (I promise we lived in a safe town) and drove off. So I have to admit -- I wrote this scene to see how it felt for Adrienne to do it. I think she made the right choice.

*Photo by https://unsplash.com/@nicolagambetti