Chapter 4:

Sober

Misty spent the night tossing and turning. She did not know if today was real. What if she had only dreamt it? She thought about the possibility of being happy again, loving again. A smile stretched from ear to ear. Misty remembers calling him so desperately seeking his query of her happiness. She was hurt to hear he was fine, because she hurt so badly. Did the time they spent traveling together mean nothing? If he is here to talk to her, maybe she was wrong. Maybe he loved her once, but in her mind, it had been far too long. She remembers Ash tripping over himself for the affection of Lilly. Now, he is here, he wants to talk. The plethora of questions she had, made her uneasy and unable to sleep. By the time she fell asleep it was approximately 2:28 am.

Knock ! Some one was knocking on his door. For the life in him, he did not want to get up. In a drowsy haze, he picked up his watch to check the time. It was only 7:27 in the morning. “Who’s there?” he rasped.

“Is that how you welcome your best friend? May I come in, please?” said a very sweet voice.

Ash jumped up almost instantly. He rushed to the door and pulled it open. Before him was the most beautiful creature on God’s green earth. It was she. With no hesitation, he picked Misty up in his arms and hugged her with all his might.

“I didn’t know you would be this happy to see me. But it’s not like it isn’t welcome.”

“Wow, Misty. You look great” the exasperated Ash threw himself into a state of calm.

“Thanks catsup. (heheh) You want to go get breakfast?”

“Sure let me get dressed. Can you turn around please?” Ash blushed pleasantly.

She turned around and he put his pants on.

Soon the two were having a conversation that neither one would have expected to ever have. They appeared to others as the very best of friends catching up on their lives. They were doing a little of that and talking about the past as well. If you compared the Ash that was sitting at the table with Misty, to the Ash that dragged himself here, there was such a dramatic difference.

“So, is this why you didn’t answer when I called you last week?”

“Oh, you called? I am sorry I missed the call. I have been walking for a while.”

“A while huh? Brock didn’t tell me he saw you, neither did Tracy.”

“Oh… well… you see… I asked them not to say anything.”

“hmm… Why did you walk? You could have easily driven over here.”

“I know. I rather walk, that is all. Reminds me of old times.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Sipping coffee and eating their breakfast. Both of them waiting on the other to say something about pain, about missing out, about regret.

No, not regret, loneliness. How their insides had been eaten away by the cold empty world. Misty took this time to reflect on her sleepless night. She considered that her lack there of was in vain. He did not care about her and never did, according to her. On the other hand, Ash thought that he was stalling for some unknown reason. He knew now because of the silence, that she felt the same. He could feel her eyes searching him, trying to break into his head. He opened up.

“You know I do… if you don’t know what I am talking about, then I am sorry.”

“You…you do? Why didn’t you say anything? Why did you wait?” Misty was so confused.

“I can’t say that I was right on my part. I am sorry. Do you? Tell me what I am feeling is right. Tell me that I didn’t walk all of this way for nothing…” Misty was taken back by this on slot of questions and she took a deep breath, but Ash kept talking, “Tell me you love me.”

Now she was surprised because she had just ruled out that possibility. She took an other deep breath and let out a very small noise.

“I have to go, Ash.” She quickly threw down a 5-dollar bill and ran off. It took Ash a few seconds to comprehend what had just occurred. That feeling returned. That horrible, hideous, empty, polar chill.

“I can’t believe that just happened. How was I so wrong?” Ash threw another 10 dollars down and left quickly. He immediately went to the gym. She was not there. He was running around like a chicken with its head cut off. By nighttime, he found himself back in the confines of a stuffy room in the pokemon center. He stumbled over himself, and burped loudly. He was drunk. The alcohol in his system was equal to if not greater than drinking rubbing alcohol. Clearly, the vodka did not help. He was still dismal and he concluded that drinking only makes him remember more. In a serene pain.