Page 187 of At the End of It All
“Good morning,” he drawls. “I’m Joe and I been an alcoholic for twenty somethin' years now.”
Their eyes rove from him and his stained Wranglers to me.
I stand up and clear my throat to knock away the nerves from so many eyes staring at me in a cold, sterile room, but the phlegm keeps coming back.
I fight through it and gurgle out. “My name is Ace...”
Ms. Marie’s warm eyes stroke my face and she smiles like she knows there’s more that’s been stuck in my chest for a long time. She twirls her finger to nudge me along and all of her jewelry clinks together.
I look at the Jordans Phat left for me by the door this morning. It’s easier talking to them rather than a room full of strangers until Ms. Marie snaps her fingers and makes me tear my eyes from my shoelaces.
“My name is Ace...” I start again. “And I’m not addicted to reporter’s voices, basketball, or even girls. I’m just an alcoholic and this morning my girlfriend told me it was okay that I am.”
~The End~
