Cocky

I'm drunk.
Movie, drinking, movie while drinking, the alcohol waterfalls likes a geyser, soon as tasteless as water.
To drown my sorrows.
Forget, forget that I'm failing, forget that I'm failing classes, failing relationships, failing in my career, that absolutely nothing is going my way.
He gets closer to me while drinking, watching the movie, I can smell his cologne and it's so enticing I've remembered why I've fallen for him for the past seven months.
We laugh, he's close, too close, too close for me to be okay. I'm not okay with it. I wish he'd be away. Far away. Nonexistent.
Chess.
He wins, surpriser.
"You know who asked me to watch a movie today?" I boast.
"Who?"
"B. Child, Brandon. Dude, four guys have asked me out in the past week."
"Wow, you're so great, you're so hot."
"You know why they like you?"
"Why? If you're about to insult me I'm not into it."
"It's because you're single."
Ouch. Like it's because I'm just open, a possible option. My self esteem crushed, everything about it, crushed. Why do I talk to these people.
"And because you're not bitchy."
Oh, great. What two attracting attributes, single and not bitchy, everyone must want me.
"I wish I weren't single"
"You wont be soon, baby steps."
And then I'm gone.
"Emma, you're welcome over whenever, especially when we're drunk."
He picks me up from the corner. "Are you okay? Be okay, be lit."
Im really never okay.
More people enter, and it's pointless, my sadness is pointless.
I guess I shouldn't be so cocky.