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TOXIC part three
Trust No One
At A Popular Dive Bar
Naythel stares at his drink as the jukebox warbles something half-familiar. The bar is a warm hum of voices and clinking glass; his friends’ laughter feels like a thin sheet between him and the rest of the room. His phone vibrates against the wood beside his beer, then again. He doesn’t reach for it.
“Hey man, you good?” Malik leans in, voice low. “You been quiet all night.”
Naythel shrugs, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Long week.”
“You been blowing off texts,” Jo the other friend says, nodding toward the phone. “You got someone blowing you up?”
Naythel watches the screen light once more. He lets it buzz and die. “It’s nothing. Just…My headache.”
His friends exchange looks as if they want to press to make him happy with gentle jokes, trying to lift the weight off his shoulders , talking about work, old stories, a football game on TV.
Naythel laughs when he’s expected to laugh, but his fingers keep twitching toward the phone, as if some invisible thread pulls him. The vibration comes again and he…
