(not quite) a literary journal


Coffee Run, by Rae Richmond

photo provided by Christine Yost

photo provided by Christine Yost

“Did you know this song is about heroin?” My friend Chris asked.

“Huh?” I said as I approached a stop sign.

We just left a party where my gay friend made out with a girl for the first time and I got vomited on. To be specific, into my underwear.  I told the guy you can’t eat out a girl while drinking Bud light.

Jane Says. Apparently, the singer and this girl named Jane did heroin together. He sings about her struggle with addiction but like in a way that makes fun of her?”

Jane says, I ain't never been in love,
I don't know what it is,
She only knows if someone wants her

“I never noticed before,” I said as I pulled up to a cafe.

“Autumn, did you really leave your underwear back at the party?” That was the first thing Chris asked when I brought some coffee to our table. Coffee always helped sober us up.

“No,” I said removing the lid from the cup and waving the steam away, “I left my vomit-soaked panties at the outside of the house next to a guy who couldn’t give head for shit.” Thank god, I wore a skirt today.

“Gross. He probably puked from the smell.”

“Fuck you.”

“Also aren’t you a lesbian? What are you doing fooling around with guys, girl?” Chris asked me, before taking a sip from his coffee.

“I’m bi, my dude,” I reminded him simply.

“Oh yeah.”


“Uugghh I’m so DRUNK!” Chris almost shouted all of a sudden as he struggled to take off his pullover sweater.

“Shh!” I said, trying to help him get out of his fuzzy sweater, “Quiet down! Stop moving so much!”

“Oh my god I feel like I’m being smothered by a bear! I mean those are usually my type but-”

“That reminds me,” I said managing to get the sweater off him, “What are you doing going around kissing girls mister? You’re gay.” I was teasing but also getting back at him for his comment earlier.

“Psshh” Chris practically spat on me, “It’s all fun experimenting! I kissed a girl and I liked it-!”

Well, at least I was the more sober of the two. I had half a can of beer and smoked a bit of kush. I was buzzed if anything but was getting disappointingly soberer by the minute.

“Random question,” Chris asked, fixing his hair and glasses, messed up from removing his sweater, “Did you start on your college applications?”

That was a random question. One I had been trying to avoid for months.

“No, I haven’t,” I said, before fishing my cigarette pack out of my purse, “I decided to go to the community college.”

Chris eyed my cigarette as I lit it. He knows I smoke to ease my nerves.

“You still need to apply though,” he said, “I just got done with my application to VCU. I’m thinking about SCAD or maybe even Austin? I’ll probably end up just applying to all of them. I’m in my senior year, I’m running out of time.”

I took a long drag from my cigarette before I answered; “We have plenty of time.”

I blew smoke up into the night sky, taking a moment to admire the starry expanse. The stars were so far yet showing so clear.

“I guess,” Chris said hesitantly, before gesturing to my cigarette “Bum me one?”

My night proceeded with Chris trying to sober up while I sat there without underwear.

Maybe I shouldn’t have driven while I was buzzed. Maybe I shouldn’t have been petty and questioned my friend’s sexuality. Maybe I shouldn’t have left my underwear outside someone’s house.

My life could be worse. I could be doing heroin with a guy who would later on write a song about me, mocking my life.

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