My Favorite Sin Page 7

  I don’t think I even know any lawyers. He rolls his eyes and sighs. Then he exhales heavily from his nose, like I’m forcing him to do a hundred push-ups. “Fine,” he says. “Wait here.”

  I do as I’m told, but I don’t sit down. I continue standing up, crossing my arms over my chest and trying to look as tall as possible. I’m not particularly tall and I don’t think this is helping much, but finally the officer comes back.

  “He’ll be out in ten to fifteen minutes,” he says. “You can sit down now.”

  I try my best not to smile at him. Victory is sweet, but there’s no need to rub it in his face. “I think I’ll just wait.”

  He shrugs his shoulders. “Whatever.”

  CONTINUE

  By the time they bring Montgomery out—it’s a different officer this time—my foot is hurting again, but I’m not willing to admit defeat. I said I was going to stand here and wait for him, and so I stood there and waited for him. Unfortunately, there’s a slight chance that was detrimental to the healing process, but I don’t even care about that.

  I just want to look into Officer Roberts’ face when they hand Montgomery over to me. Montgomery is walking ahead of the officer who seems to be in charge of him and he seems to be doing so in a straight line, without much difficulty. He doesn’t look like he’s that drunk to me, but I’m used to him never being sober.

  I’m almost certain they’ve made a mistake until Montgomery sets his gaze on me. His eyes are wide and glassy. He flashes me a wide smile. “Aleeeeex!” he exclaims, elongating my name until it’s uncomfortable. Then his expression schools. “Did you bring my bike?”

  I suppress a smile. “No,” I say. “You might want to teach me to ride before I take it anywhere.”

  He nods a lot, as if I’ve just said the wisest thing he’s ever heard. “You were always the smart one.”

  I notice that Officer Roberts is staring at us. I think there’s a smirk on his face. This doesn’t feel like a victory anymore and I probably shouldn’t have celebrated it as such in the first place. I lick my lips and swallow. “C’mon, Montgomery,” I say. “Let’s take you home.”

  “Have fun,” Officer Roberts says, wrinkling his nose.

  “Thanks,” I reply, completely deadpan, then turn to face Montgomery again. I can smell the alcohol on his breath, but he’s acting relatively okay, and I don’t think it’ll be too hard to wrangle him and get him to bed.

  “Come on,” I say. “Let’s get you home.”

  He shakes his head, but he starts walking next to me. “Home? You don’t want to go out?”

  “We’re already out,” I say, deliberately ignoring his point.

  “Ugh, you’re such a square, Alex,” he says. “You should go out to a bar and drink until you have no idea what you’re doing. Just one time.”

  “But if I did that, who would pick you up?” I ask him. We’re about to cross the street, so I put my arm in front of him because he sure as hell isn’t looking for traffic. He stumbles over my arm a little, then giggles.

  He turns to look at me, his eyes wide. “You know,” he says. “You’re always there for me.”

  I laugh and start walking. He walks with me, but he’s a few steps back and he’s muttering something under his breath which I can’t understand. “Montgomery,” I say, slowing down so he can catch up to me. “What are you saying?”

  “Just, you’ve always been nice to me,” he says.

  I snicker. “No, I haven’t.”

  “Okay, you haven’t,” he says. “But only when I’m not nice to you. I deserve it then.”

  I smile. “You always deserve it.”

  He nods, his eyes widening. “Shit, man. You think I don’t know that?”

  I watch him, saying nothing. There’s very little I can say to that. I don’t know why, but I always assume Montgomery wasn’t self-aware enough to know he was being shitty. Clearly, that was a mistake. He seems to have a pretty good idea of it.

  He leans into me, so close that his mouth is only about an inch away from my ear. We’re still in the middle of the street so it only lasts for a second or two. I need to keep walking away so I can get him home, so he can sleep all of this off.

  “I was going to tell you a secret!”

  “You can,” I say. “Tell me, but wait until we get home, okay?”

  “No,” he says, furrowing his brow. “Fuck that. It’s now or never.”

  We’ve managed to cross the street and are safely on the sidewalk. I don’t know if I want to hear this, but I know that dealing with a drunk Montgomery is easiest when he’s happy. “Fine,” I say. “What is it?”

  “I’m sorry I’m a jerk to you,” he says. “It’s something that happens when I’m intimidated by people.”

  I laugh, throwing my head back when I do. “Amazing,” I say. We’ve managed to walk back to the apartment complex and I’m currently looking in my pockets, fumbling for my keys. Montgomery leans back on the wall and sighs deeply.

  “Alex, that wasn’t a joke,” he says. “I’m serious.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I say. “Cute. Do you have your keys? I can’t seem to find—nevermind.”

  I grab my keys out of my pocket and unlock the door. It creaks when I push it open.

  “You just got your shit together,” Montgomery says, even though I haven’t asked him for an explanation. “I’m just saying, there’s something about that.”

  I shake my head. “Go to bed, dude,” I say.

  He turns to me, right in the middle of the hallway, his eyes wide. “Nooo,” he says, pouting. “I don’t want to go to bed.”

  I guess I could try to convince him to go to bed, but it’s his life. If he wants to stay up, it’s none of my business. I’m tired, though. I need to hit the hay, too.

  “Just go to bed,” I say. “What’s wrong with bed?”

  “I wanna stay up and do stuff,” he replies, furrowing his brow. “We should hang out. We never hang out.”

  “We’re hanging out right now,” I say. I’ve been walking toward his room, trying to get him to follow me. It’s working, I think, because Montgomery is following me. I open the door to his bedroom and smile at him.

  He lingers, suddenly stopping to stare at me. “This isn’t hanging out,” he says. “We’re not—okay, look, I know you just did me a favor by picking me up from the drunk tank.”

  “Right…”

  “But this isn’t us hanging out,” he says. “We live in the same space and we barely spend any time together.”

  I resist the urge to tell him that it’s because he’s a dick and simply nod, gesturing toward his bed, as if he could possibly be missing it. “Look, if you still want to hang out tomorrow, we can totally hang out, okay? Right now, you need to go to bed.”

  He gets really close to my face, his eyes narrow. “That’s bullshit,” he says.

  I sigh. I don’t want to deal with this, but he seems to be following me, so I walk into his bedroom. I don’t think I’ve ever been in here before. Our bedroom layout is completely the same, largish rooms with one window and a walk-in closet. My room, in comparison to his, is austere. He’s painted one of the walls, the one you can’t see from outside, because I think he knows I wouldn’t be okay with it. The rest of his walls are covered in posters, paintings and photographs from his friends, lit up with decorative Christmas lights. There are clothes strewn all over the floor and his bed is unmade, but that shouldn’t be a surprise. His bed is always unmade. I can see that every morning, because he leaves his door open before he goes to work.

  He’s watching me now, leaning against his closet door and staring at me. “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing,” I say. “I’m just talking to you. Do you want to come over here so we can talk?”

  “No,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Fine.”

  He walks over to me and sits down on the bed. It creaks under his weight. He sighs, leans back and stretches his arms out. He slumps back on the bed until he’s on his back, his gaze
on the popcorn ceiling. “You know what I’ve always wanted?”

  “What?”

  “Stars,” he says. “You know, like the ones kids have on TV shows?”

  I chuckle. “You can just buy them,” I say.

  “Where?”

  “Online, I think?” I reply. “I don’t know, though.”

  He closes his eyes. “Don’t you think I’m a little old for that shit?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know,” I say. “I think you should probably do whatever makes you happy.”

  He groans. I think he’s about to say something else, but I’m pretty sure he has fallen asleep. It looks like he’s going to be uncomfortable when he wakes up, because only half his body is on the bed, so I stand up, walk around and grab his legs to straight him up. I take off his shoes and throw them on the floor, wondering if he’s going to find them between the piles of clothes. I tell myself not to be judgmental. His jeans look uncomfortable, but there’s zero chance I’m going to fuck with those.

  Montgomery is already snoring, his arm over his eyes. I can’t help but smile down at him when I see him sleeping peacefully. Maybe—just maybe—I’ve been wrong about him.

  I walk out of his room, closing the door softly behind me. My heart is beating fast in my chest. I close my eyes and groan. Shit, it has been a hell of a day. I’m tired. I need to sleep. Maybe I’ll feel better in the morning.

  I think I’m tired enough to be able to sleep through the night.

  CONTINUE

  I sigh. I’m tired and I don’t want to deal with this, so I just shrug my shoulders. “Okay, you do whatever you want.”

  He smiles. “Are we going to hang out?”

  “We can hang out tomorrow,” I say and yawn. It’s fake at first, but then I realize how tired I am and it takes me forever to stop.

  He furrows his brow, his eyes aflame as he stares at me. “So you promise we’re going to hang out?”

  I resist the urge to roll my eyes. He’s never this insistent when he’s sober. “Sure,” I say. “I promise, if you still feel like hanging out, we’re going to hang out.”

  Montgomery cocks his head slightly, and then, seemingly content, he nods. I have no idea what I did to convince him, but I know when I’ve been victorious, and I’m not going to be undo the work I’ve just done.

  “You promise?” he asks, getting close to me. “You swear.”

  “I swear,” I say, though the words taste bitter in my mouth. I don’t think this is going to be a problem, because I really don’t think that Montgomery is going to want to hang out with me later, but he is being so intense about this. I don’t think he’s going to let it go if I don’t agree with him.

  “Good,” he says. “I’ll hold you to that, choirboy.”

  I watch him turn around and walk into his bedroom. He closes the door softly. I watch it until the lock clicks, my heart in my throat.

  I tell myself that it’s going to be okay. There’s no need for me to be this nervous or upset about what’s going to happen. I close my eyes and groan. Shit, it has been a hell of a day. I’m tired. I need to sleep. Maybe I’ll feel better in the morning.

  I think I’m tired enough to be able to sleep through the night. I look at Montgomery’s door, which remains closed, and I can feel a tug at the corner of my lips. Maybe he’s not as bad as I thought.

  …Maybe.

  CONTINUE

  I lean into him so that no one can hear me. “If you need me to, I can put money toward his bail,” I say. “I don’t know how much it is, but I think I can get a few hundred, at least.”

  He puts his magazine down and narrows his eyes. “Son,” he says. “Are you offering me a bribe?”

  My eyes widen. “What? No,” I say. “Of course I’m not offering you a bribe.”

  “Are you sure?” he asks. “Because it sounds like you’re trying to give an officer money to make sure your friend gets released.”

  I can feel my cheeks reddening as my eyes widen. “What?” I reply, my voice a little louder than it should be. “Officer Roberts, I don’t appreciate your accusations.”

  “And I don’t appreciate your attempt to bribe me,” he says. “Stay where you are.”

  I do as I’m told, mostly because I’m too perplexed to move. I think I just got in trouble with the law, but only because I was trying to be a good friend to Montgomery. Of course that’s what would fucking happen.

  “I am going to detain you,” he says. “Put your hands on your head.”

  “Seriously?” Part of me thinks he’s going to laugh and tell me that this is all a joke, but he does no such thing. He pats me down, grabs my phone and wallet, and tells me I’ll get those when I get out.

  There’s something like glee in his voice when he speaks again. “I can cuff you, but if you would prefer, you can walk with me.”

  I nod and say nothing. My mouth is dry as I follow him into the station. The place is dark and I think it’s considerably overcrowded. There are a lot of college students here, two large cells. At first glance, they look to be divided by gender.

  He leans in close to me, so close that I can feel his breath on my skin when he talks. “Welcome,” he says. “I hope you have a good night.”

  He grabs me by the back of the shirt and throws me into the cell. I blink a little, trying my best not to let him know how much he’s upsetting me. I want him to think that this is the kind of thing I’m used to and I’m not afraid of him, though I’m gritting my teeth.

  He throws me into the drunk tank and then makes a show of locking the cell. I don’t turn to look at him. I want him to think that I don’t know—or care—that he’s smiling. I listen to his footsteps through the noise of everyone chattering around me. Apart from a couple of men who are sleeping on the floor and on the hard benches, everyone else is being boisterous, and I have no idea how anyone can sleep through this.

  I turn around to look at the bars again, but before I can, I feel a hand on my shoulder. “Alex?”

  I look over my shoulder and see Montgomery. He looks like shit, with bags under his eyes and his lips all chapped. Even from here, I can smell the alcohol in his breath. “Montgomery,” I say. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” he replies, then furrows his brow. “I asked you to come pick me up, not visit.”

  He says it so sincerely, like I meant to do this, that I can’t help but laugh. I’m laughing too hard to ask him if he thinks I did this on purpose, to the point where the chatter has stopped and people are looking at me.

  “I tried to pay for your bail,” I say when I manage to calm down.

  He shakes his head. “What? Why?”

  “I don’t know,” I reply. “I guess I just thought that you would be released if I put money toward bail.”

  “That’s not how it works,” he says and shakes his head. Then he bites his lower lip and I can tell he’s trying very hard not to laugh at me. “Is this your first time in the drunk tank?”

  “You mean in prison?”

  “This isn’t prison,” he says. “Don’t be dramatic.”

  I shake my head. “This is going to go on my record.”

  “No, it won’t,” he says. “You shouldn’t worry so much.”

  “You wanted me to pick you up, though,” I say, looking him up and down, my arms still firmly crossed over my chest.

  “I did,” he says. “Because the drunk tank smells like piss and vomit. I just didn’t want to spend the night here.”

  I don’t say anything. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.

  “I suppose it’s okay if you’re here to keep me company,” he says and shakes his head.

  “I’m not here to keep you company,” I say. “I don’t want to be here.”

  “Welcome to the club,” he says. “Come on. Sit down.”

  He grabs my wrist and leads me to one of the stone benches. There’s a drunk man on it, sitting and slumping forward. I think he must be sleeping it off. I sit down next to Montgomery and the bench feels cold e
ven through the fabric of my jeans.

  He leans back on the tile wall and laughs quietly. “Relax,” he says. “It’s going to be okay. You’ll be released in the morning and this will be a story to tell during your sermons.”

  “I can see it now,” I say, smiling at him despite myself. “The time I got arrested for trying to help my roommate. That seems applicable.”

  He hums and moves his head from side-to-side. “You need to live a little.”

  I look him up and down. This might be the drunk tank, and he might not be getting out until tomorrow, but he does look surprisingly content. He isn’t like me. He’s not worried about what’s going to happen in the future, he’s just excited to live in the present. Surely there’s something to be said for that. “Is that what you do?”

  He shrugs. “I guess,” he says. “I’m just… you know. Trying to have a good time. I’m only young once, right?”

  I blink. “Sure.”

  “And I’m not hurting anyone.”

  I furrow my brow. “Seriously?”

  “Well, I mean, you’re not hurt,” he says. “You’re just a little… inconvenienced.”

  I swallow, but I can’t help but shake my head as I smile. “And you’re always so good at that.”

  Montgomery laughs, his entire body shaking when he does. “Hey, you gotta be good at something,” he says. “What are you good at, choirboy?”

  I laugh and shake my head. “Honestly, lately, I have no idea.”

  He nods, then cranes his neck so he’s looking right at me. The cell isn’t too dark, but I can only sort of see his features. His jaw is square, his eyes large. His nose is long and twisted to the side slightly, clearly broken a long time ago. He’s very close to me and there’s no indication that he’s going to pull away. He looks me up and down, his gaze traveling to my lips, settling there for a few too many seconds, then going up to my eyes.

  He leans close to me, close enough that I think he might actually kiss me. I don’t know what I’m going to do if he does. That would certainly complicate things. Plus we’re somewhere public and I feel like everyone is staring at me, at us.