The two stood there waiting for the taxi, it was so cold, so calm. The whole night was a blur, she was kneeling by him, finishing being sick. He was standing over her holding a hotdog. "Get up!" his mouth was full, and bits of his bun were bouncing off of his leather jacket onto her. She was being sick. "Jesus Lindsy, why you gotta drink so much?" He was asking her seriously, under his drunken breath. The two of them were meant for each other. "I told you not to do those shooter things with Jimmy, he does that to you every time!" He was right and she knew it. She was getting cold, and she knew he didn't care, he never cared about her. "You know I'm never wrong baby" he said laughing. She did. She knew he knew her, and she hated him for it. "How come I'm always left standing?" he asked arrogantly. She was kneeling under him so unhappy, and he was standing over her smiling.
"I'm so cold!" her voice was drunk, her hair was in her mouth, all she could see was the light from the cars coming forward on the other side of the street. There were so many of them. She felt dizzy when she shut her eyes, she squeezed them tight. "I..." Nothing could find it's way out. She held onto his shin, her heels laying next to her, she could feel him reach to try to hale a cab.
"No one will ever pull over for us baby, they can tell you're so fucked up." He sounded angry but she didn't care.
"I'm cold!" she said shivering, inside she was yelling, begging and pleading with herself. She hated him, she never wanted to go out with him, and she knew he knew that. "you're always right baby"