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Bucho
Bucho .
United States, KS, Lenexa

Words: 383
Access: Public
Comments: 0

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Frustration Can Be Gorgeous

They both had terrible aim; his gaze below her belt and hers beyond his heart and neither one of them a good shot. Their conversation was clumsy and fumbling, an awkwardness that stilled a buzzing room and halted conversations mid-phrase. She was drunk, he was easy. Later he’d realize she hadn’t been making bedroom eyes at him, but rather trying to focus through blurred beer-vision as she stood up from her comfortable perch on the couch.

‘She’s getting up to come closer,’ he thought, excited at the prospect of a sloppy make-out session. She tottered on her flimsy limbs, grabbed his shoulders for support and mumbled something. “I’m sorry,” he said. “What was that?” he asked. When she opened her mouth to respond, she unleashed the contents of her dinner along his back, retching hard and loud as the others in the room watched and laughed in shock.

It was her friend’s house, so maneuvering her to an open bed and a locked door was easy with the help of others. He searched the room for something clean to change into as her friends retrieved Kleenex to wipe her mouth and trashcans to puke in later. He could smell the acrid sour of half-digested food and beer chugged too fast. After a brief cleaning in the bathroom, he changed into the spare shirt given to him by her friend and went back to the living room. He sipped his drink, disappointed at the late hour and the lack of prospects, and leaned his head back against the headrest.

Her friend came into the room several minutes later, questions plastered across her face as she sat down across from him. “I’m sorry,” he started, but she raised her hand to stop him.

“Not your fault,” she mumbled. “The girl likes to drink and you acted like her older brother. Most guys would’ve left the room instead of helping, so thank you.”
She was prettier than the first girl and dark hair outlined her rounded cheeks. She looked up at him through tired eyes and smiled. He smiled back and fumbled with his cup, not knowing quite what to say.

“Need a refill?” she asked, grabbing his hand and leading him into the kitchen without letting him answer.

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