Collarbones

2 - Heart

My heart is like a cigarette in the sense that it only lasts until it burns out. Every passing day, I sit in the wind, coming dangerously close to watching as the tip burns out before my eyes.

Before I know it, it’ll be extinguished and I’ll be dead.

I sit on the hood of my best friend’s car in the middle of the night. The summer breeze whips my hair about my face, sometimes getting tangled with the fingers that hold the cigarette in place. I bat it away impatiently, just wanting to feel the burn in my stomach and the ache for nicotine disappear as I pull the cigarette away from my mouth. My eyes pull from the people just before the car, instead watching the grey smoke as it climbs through the warm air and then continues to blend with the darkened sky.

I tilt my head back then, eyes falling close as I realize that this is the first time I have felt comfortable in a long time. I feel no pressure from the outside world. I hear nothing inside my mind. As soon as I come to this understanding, I realize that once more, I don’t want to feel comfortable. It doesn’t sit well with me.

What I really want is to feel nothing at all.

And so, when Alina pulls out the cooler full of beer she’s snagged from her older sister’s boyfriend, I’m the first one reaching my hand out. She raises a single eyebrow at me before she smiles. It’s the beautiful yet evil smile that has conjured so many of my worst thoughts. I wrap my hand around the cold can, feeling the water droplets from being buried in ice slide down my hands. As she passes more around the circle of people who have joined us, I’m the first to crack mine open.

The breaking of the aluminum seal silences the night, followed by the hiss as the contents finally breathe. Without waiting for anyone, I press the can against my lips and take a mouthful. I’ve never liked beer, but tonight it tastes delicious. It tastes like the courage I need to achieve the numbness that I crave.

I sit in silence like I always do for the first can. I watch over the rim as Alina, who has already had one too many, dances in the middle of the circle. I lower my can as she continues to move with the music that pumps from the speakers of her car. Her body sways in motion with the beat, her hips shaking from side to side as she runs her free hand along the tanned skin that shows beneath her sheer shirt. Her eyes move about the boys who stare at her with such want in their features that I feel the need to sink into the hood.

I’m the only other girl present, but it’s as if I’m the hood ornament. The ugly object that sits on the hood of the car where everyone can see it, but not exciting enough that anyone pays much attention to it. I feel my confidence slowly sliding away as Alina reaches her hand out, laughing as her boy toy of the week takes it. It’s not long before they’re hurrying away through the darkness, her laughter echoing as they cross through the tree-line that separates the parking lot from the field.

Still there, I watch as the boys continue to sip their beer, their eyes sliding over me with little to no recognition. I make no move to gain their attention, just sit there in my too-long shirt and sip on the drink I find disgusting. I can hear them talking across the circle, but make no sense of their words. I continue to sip on my beer, staring at the cracked pavement that runs beneath the tires of the cars and think of how even the strongest of minerals are often subject to scarring.

The boys continue to take no notice of me even when I push myself off of the hood of the car. I take a few steps forward and flip open the top of the cooler. I reach my hand into the ice-filled compartment, revel in the coldness of the melted water against my skin, and realize that I have yet to reach that numb point I so wish for. I take another beer and kick the lid shut. With the can tucked against my side, I take a few moments to observe the boys sitting away from me.