The Only Medicine

Tony’s car is parked down the road, but it’s not a very far walk. Vic helps Mike set Jessica down in the car, then they climb in on either side of her. I’m relieved—I don’t think I could bear to sit by Mike at the moment. I hop into the front seat.

“Where abouts am I taking you?” Tony asks, buckling his seat belt. Vic gives him their address and he starts the car.

The ride back is silent, except for the sound of Jessica softly snoring in the back. She’s going to have one hell of a headache tomorrow morning. The drive doesn’t seem to take long, possibly because of my drunkenness, and soon enough Tony’s pulled over outside Vic and Mike’s house.

“Thanks for the ride, man,” Vic says, clapping Tony on the shoulder.

“No problem. I had a good night,” Tony smiles.

We all hop out and Tony drives off. Vic and Mike help Jessica to the door and to Mike’s room. I fetch a bucket from the laundry for them. Unsurprisingly, she’s asleep as soon as they lay her on the bed.

“What are you going to do?” Vic asks Mike.

“I dunno. I’ll go sleep on the couch.”

Vic nods and bids him goodnight. We head into his room and I help him set up the fold out bed, which is a mission because we’re both so drunk. Once we’re finished, Vic pulls off his shirt and jeans. We’re at the point in our relationship where we don’t really care if we get naked in front of the other, especially when we’re drunk. I grab my bag.

“I’m gonna go take a shower,” I say.

“Mmkay. I’m gonna go night night,” Vic says, curling up on the fold out bed.


The shower does a good job of sobering me up, but I hop out and realise that I’m ravenously hungry. I rummage through my bag and slip on my oversized Cannibal Corpse t-shirt, then head out the bathroom and up the stairs. The lounge is dark and I don’t know if Mike is asleep, so I tiptoe through, trying to be as quiet as possible. The light flicks on, giving me the shits.

“I’m not asleep,” Mike says. He’s turned on the lamp next to the couch he’s lying on.

“Sorry, I thought you were.” I walk into the kitchen and rummage through the cupboards.

“What are you looking for?”

“I’m hungry. I’m just going to make some toast.” I grab the bread and put a couple of slices in the toaster.

“Grab me some.”

I add a couple of slices for him and lean against the pantry awkwardly, unsure if Mike is still angry or what. He doesn’t say anything. The toaster pops and I spread the toast with peanut butter, then walk over and hand him his pieces and turn to leave.

“You can eat it here,” he says.

I perch on the edge of the other couch and nibble at the toast, wondering if he’s going to talk to me or if we’re going to eat in silence. He’s obviously not that angry at me if he still wants my company. He doesn’t say a word. Awkward. Ugh. This is my life now—existing around Mike and trying not to be awkward and trying to figure out whether he’s angry or not. I finish my toast as fast as I can and get up to leave.

“Great chat,” I say. “Goodnight.”

“Mia,” he says just before I get to the first step. I turn around. He runs a hand through his dark hair and I look at him expectantly. “Ugh, don’t worry.”

“No. You don’t get to pull that shit again. What’s wrong?” I demand.

He looks up at the ceiling, trying to find the words. “You said you were okay about it.”

“I am,” I reply defiantly, knowing exactly what he’s talking about.

He just rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” He turns the lamp off then lays down and turns his back to me.

I don’t bother answering him; I just turn and leave.


Surprisingly, none of us wake up with a hangover. Well, actually, that’s a lie. Jessica has a hangover. A mighty hangover. Jessica wakes up and looks like death itself and I can barely contain my glee. Vic and I have just gotten dressed and are heading upstairs when she comes out of Mike’s bedroom, her face pallid and her hair sticking up all over the place.

“Where’s Mike?” she asks.

“He slept upstairs on the couch,” Vic says.

She follows us up the stairs. Mike’s already awake and is spread out across the couch, watching cartoons. He looks up as we enter.

“Oh, hey babe,” he says, reaching an arm out for her.

She stays where she is, arms wrapped around herself. “I’m gonna go home.”

“Oh, okay.” Mike sits up, looking for the keys on the coffee table.

“My sister’s coming to pick me up.”

Mike frowns. “Right.”

Vic and I share a look. “Um, do you guys want some coffee?” Vic asks, rattling the coffee plunger.

Jessica shakes her head and then turns around and heads back down the stairs. Mike immediately gets up and follows her down. We hear a door slam downstairs, presumably his bedroom door.

Vic turns to me, his eyebrows raised, but doesn’t say anything. We stand in the kitchen, waiting for the water to boil. I open my mouth to say something but Vic hushes me.

“Wait, listen,” he says, holding a finger up.

The house doesn’t have the best soundproofing, and we can hear Mike and Jessica arguing downstairs in his room. I can’t help but grin.

“What do you think they’re arguing about?” Vic asks, filling the plunger.

I shrug. “Probably because he left her throwing up at the party and then slept on the couch.”

“Ah yeah, that makes sense.” Vic pauses. “So, uh, what was up with you guys last night?”

“What do you mean?”

“You almost had a screaming match at that party.”

“Oh, that? I dunno. Mike was just being shitty.” I brush it off.

After a while, Jessica leaves, so Mike comes back up the stairs. He sits down at the table and sighs and pours himself a coffee.

“What’s up?” Vic asks.

Mike shrugs.

“Right. Uh, well, do you guys want to practice again today?”

I can’t help myself. “Will Jessica be there?”

Mike glowers at me. “If you guys didn’t want her there, you could’ve just said.” Then he realises that we’re still waiting for an answer from him. “Seriously? Fuck you guys.”

He gets up and storms down the stairs. Vic stares at me disbelievingly.

“Are you sure nothing happened between you two?” he demands.

My heart catches in my throat. I try to look nonchalant. “No idea. I think he’s just shitty because we don’t like Jessica and he knows it.”

He shakes his head. “Whatever. We still have to practise again before Friday, though. Hopefully he sorts his shit out before then.”

Notes

Ooooooh, drama.