Tyler: Chaotic Tranquility

Hi, hello. So I started this story a couple days ago and just now finished it. And I like it so that's good too. If you actually read this and have any reaction to it at all, please let me know. Any response is good. Anything.

Also, it's called 'Slight Rebellion off Acton' which is a direct homage to my favorite short story of all time by JD Salinger.



Elliot’s annual Arbor Day Extravaganza was winding down along with my spirits. Lately I’d been lacking in attention from women and hurting from it. Actually, that is an understatement on two counts. When I say women were paying me no mind, that is not just limited to the romantic kind. I mean, I could not get any girl to look my way even for some platonic companionship. Beyond that, I literally was hurting from it. It wasn’t the kind of emotional pain one gets from pining after some girl with no results. My loneliness had manifested itself into a cancerous entity that started by weakening my joints and had lately been working on providing me with insomnia in addition to a twitch I would get whenever I thought about the last time I laid with a woman. A fucking demon it was.

I made up my mind that I had to get out of there. Scratch that, my mind made the decision for me seeing as it had been doing many things without my consent as of late. At any rate, I had to go. Now this is not a knock on Elliot’s party. The Arbor Day Extravaganza was one of the highlights of April in our neck of Clintonville and we treated it as such. I was simply too tired to continue drinking mindlessly and too depressed with the selection of girls left. They were all out of my league; some higher, some lower. The only girl in which I had any interest was Madi and she’d left hours ago. I had been Madi’s best friend for years and she had been my secret, probably disinterested love interest for about the same period of time. Over this time I always sat back watching her make poor choices in men, judging and feeling sorry for myself from a distance. She watched and encouraged my flights into dating never knowing what I really wanted. I don’t need to really tell you this though, everyone I know has gone through it and knows the pain that goes with the unrequited love cliché.

I was clearly done there but did not want a big send off saying goodbye to the forty remaining people, most of whom, I didn’t know. With most exits blocked I made my way for the remarkably deserted front door. Once I was on the porch I’d be safe from any outbursts of spontaneous dancing which seem to consume anyone within striking distance like a drunken tornado of bad rhythm. So as inconspicuously as possible I made my move for the door.

“Eli! You son of a bitch. You need to get back here and take a hit of this,” I turned to see Kyle running at me with a bowl and lighter outstretched. My escape had been postponed but at least I wasn’t dancing. Having started my departure without giving any ‘goodbyes’ I should have known I’d be caught by someone and, on the bright side, that person did have a bowl for me.

“Fine Kyle, but just because I can’t resist your beautiful blue eyes,” His eyes were highly glazed over but I’m a nice guy so I’m all about doling out compliments. He handed me the blown glass bowl and a pink lighter. I sat myself down on the steps of the porch and sparked the Bic a couple times getting a feel for it. The butane smelled like my friends cars in high school. Actually, so did the weed. I lit it and watched the herb sparkle before settling on a sunset orange color. I breathed the smoke in, closed my eyes and held my breath as long as I could before coughing up a whole bunch of potential lung cancer.

It wasn’t my strongest hit ever but it certainly wasn’t the weakest either, “Not bad, Kyle. Who’d you get this from?”

He looked ecstatic when I asked him, “Me, man! I fucking grew it myself. In my bathroom!”

That last part was supposed to impress me but I’d seen this kids bathroom and it was more suitable for growing mushrooms than weed. I managed to keep a look of disgust off my face as well as vomit from spewing out my mouth. Needless to say, I was beyond done with it, “Well, thanks buddy but I think I’m going to get going. You take care of yourself, alright?”

“Alright, man, alright. I’ll see you later,” he stumbled back into the house and I remained quite content staring at the chaotic tranquility of High St. from the porch.

Columbus was a great town at night. Light pollution from the city was usually low and provided ample stars to enjoy. If you were out at the right time you might also be privileged enough to see the drunks stumbling to their respective homes whether they be high class, faux industrial lofts or actual abandoned industrial buildings. That’s one of the greatest things about alcohol, it cares not for your social status but only your tolerance level. To be honest, Columbus shared that attribute with alcohol which might be why I love this city so much. You could run in any circle so long as you could drink with them.

As I sat contemplating the love triangle that was Columbus, alcohol, and me I felt the cold chill of ice on the back of my neck causing my immediate jump and scream, “Fucking hell! What the fuck?”

Madi nearly fell over laughing before settling down next to me, “For Christ’s sake Eli. You’re a little jumpy, aren’t you?”

“Well, shit, you gave me a fucking heart attack,” she handed me a beer and it was all I could do to be completely appreciative and resentful toward her at the same time, “Thanks, I guess.”

“It’s what I’m here for, sugar,” she took a long drag on the bottle and smiled in my direction melting me.

“I thought you left here awhile ago. I mean, I least I thought I saw you go,” I tried to play it off like I hadn’t noticed her whereabouts but I never hid my intentions very well.

“Well, I did, kind of. I ran into Brook Sutton, do you remember her from high school?”

“I don’t know, maybe.” I did. Brook Sutton was the kind of girl that wouldn’t look my way in high school but as soon as she started drinking and smoking I was suddenly perceived as wildly intriguing. I had run into Brook several weeks before and was very confused to find that where I was once a social outcast I had more recently become someone to know apparently. In high school I was the weird kid who sat by himself and yet I was somehow transformed into a weird kid that knew several integral people and several integral Columbus scenes. Our meeting ended when she started being excessively nice to me and in my discomfort I abruptly left the situation surely leaving both parties equally confused.

“She was a cheerleader, I don’t know if you knew her. Anyway, I ran into her and we started talking about books so I started talking about Palahniuk. She’d never even heard of him so we went back to my place so I could just give her one of his books.”

This worried me a little. Palahniuk was my third favorite author and I felt deeply that one must earn the right to read his best books. Now, Fight Club can be read by anyone because it belongs to the people due to its theatrical release. Same goes for Choke though not nearly as many people have enjoyed that work. I was hoping Madi had given her something easy and less involved to read like Lullaby but really I was hoping that she’d given Brook Invisible Monsters because that is by far his worst book. She deserved it. My greatest fear, however, was that Madi had given her Survivor, my second favorite book of all time and the single greatest concept for a book ever. I prayed Brook didn’t receive Survivor.

“What book did you give her?”

“Snuff.” I could deal with that. It was an unimaginative look at the porn industry and I found it rather suited to Brook.

“Cool.” My beer was near empty but sitting with Madi was more than enough to sate me.

“Yeah, it was totally weird though. I hadn’t seen or even thought about Brook in ages and then she just showed up here out of nowhere. I’d nearly forgotten about her. I mean, I almost didn’t remember her.”

“Yeah, I can never remember the people I forget.” It was cheesy but it got a laugh out of Madi so I was happy. Her laugh, God, it killed me. She laughed from deep down but still managed to make it come out in an adorable manner. I’d fallen for this girl long ago and her laugh was a large part of it. That and just about everything else about her.

I moved the conversation to more pressing issues like her asshole boyfriend, “So how’s your boy?”

“He cheated on me with his ex a couple weeks ago,” I’d heard this same sentiment from her several times but it never made me feel good.

“Christ, I’m sorry. What happened?”

“I don’t know. I found some messages they were writing each other. It was pretty bad.”
“So what did you do?”

“I haven’t talked to him in a couple days but I think we’ll work it out.”

“Why?”

“I can’t help it Eli, he does something to me.”

“You have a nasty habit of dating assholes.”

“I know.”

I pulled out a cigarette to take the edge of the moment off, “You want one?”

“I quit.”

“Yeah, so did I. Twice.” I lit up and took a long, hard drag.

I paused as long as I could trying to come up with the perfect words because I knew whatever I said then couldn’t be taken back, “I’m not an asshole, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”