Chapter 10

 

The next morning, I woke up before Betsy. I thought about waking her up, but I didn't know what her reaction would be this time. I didn't want another awkward moment and have her hate me. I slowly got up from her bed and crept out into the living room.

Two girls in pink tank tops and shorts, with their hair piled in messy ponytails, were sitting on the couch and watching some reality TV show.

"Morning." I waved.

I kind of recognized them from being around the house, but without all the makeup and blown out hair, I wasn't sure who was who.

The one to the right raised an eyebrow. "Short Stack? Haven't seen you making the rounds of Betsy's room before."

"I-I-I wasn't doing anything. We were just sleeping," I said, trying to be defensive, but at the same time a little floored at the statement.

She held up her hand. "You don't have to explain anything. Most boys can't resist the blonde siren."

I took a step closer. "Look, I don't know what you're trying to insinuate, but I'm pretty sure I get the picture. You're saying she has a revolving door or whatever, but have you ever actually talked to her about it? Maybe asked if there is something else going on? Maybe all the assholes that walk through her door are using her and she's the victim?"

The other girl raised her eyebrow. "Are you a psych major or just really like playing the superhero?"

I shook my head. "I'm neither. Just a guy, trying to help a girl out."

The other girl smiled. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, you're the nicest that's come through her door. Most of the others either ask us for a cigarette, breakfast, or if we want to go at a round with them."

I laughed. "Seriously?"

She nodded. "Yeah, Betsy usually doesn't pick the best guys, so I hope she keeps you around, Short Stack."

I hoped so too.

 

***

 

When I got back to the house, clean up was in full force. But this time, it was an even bigger clean up, since the front window was completely shattered and there was glass all over the Common Room.

I ran inside where Cali and Meatball were sweeping up. "What the hell happened? Did Pi Rho's do this?"

Cali shook his head and looked up from where he was sweeping. "No. It was Rico, man."

I widened my eyes. Sure, the guy had a temper, but I didn't think he had the kind to break a window. "What the hell?"

Cali looked over at Meat Ball. "Hey, I'll be right back. I'm going to talk to Short Stack real quick."

Meatball nodded. "All right. That's cool."

Cali put his arm around my shoulders and led me toward the kitchen.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" I stepped in front of him and crossed my arms over my chest.

Cali sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. "Rico came back last night fucking hammered. He was spouting off some shit about you and about Betsy and that he didn't have a problem. We all know that he's an angry motherfucker, especially when he drinks. Anyway, I tried to get him to go to his room and sleep it off, but he wouldn't listen, so instead he took one of our trophies from Greek Week and threw it through the window."

I widened my eyes. "Are you serious? Did the cops get called?"

Cali shook his head. "No, man. We don't need to get the cops involved. We'll take this to Honor Council."

"Someone legal needs to get involved. The guy is going to kill someone."

Cali sighed. "Look, Rico has a lot of demons that you, or I will never understand. Instead of actually getting the help he needs, he drinks and takes it out on people weaker than him. It's just how he always has done things."

"Well then he needs to either go to jail, or get in a psych ward, or some shit."

Cali laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You're telling me. Look, I know you don't like the guy, but he really has been through a lot of shit. He just needs help, instead of everyone looking to villainize him."

I sucked in a breath. "What kind of shit gives him the right to do that?"

"I wouldn't normally advise this when he's coming off a bender, but maybe you should talk to him about it. Maybe you'll find that you two have more in common, than you really think."

I shook my head. "Why in the hell would I want to do that?"

Cali looked me in the eyes. "Because someone has to be the good guy and you're the best at it."

 

***

 

Rico's room was on the second floor. He roomed with another guy, who went by Stout, but he was always shacked up at his girlfriend's place.

I knocked softly on the door and he didn't answer. I figured he was sleeping it off and this was probably a bad idea. I went to turn away, when I heard him groaning, and then he finally yelled, "Yeah, come on in."

Slowly, I opened the door and adjusted my eyes to the darkened room. Rico was sitting on top of his loft and there were mounds of clothes and empty beer cans covering every inch of the carpet that I could see. When I flipped the light switch, I could see that the walls were covered in pictures of half-naked women.

Rico coughed and shook his head, before sliding a black t-shirt over his head. "Coming here to spit some more righteous bullshit at me, Short Stack?"

I shook my head and took tentative steps toward him. "No. I'm just checking in on you. It seems like you've had a rough night."

He laughed. "Yeah. I guess you could say that."

I stopped in the middle of the room and crossed my arms over my chest. "So are we going to talk about it or just shrug it off like we normally do?"

He shrugged and hopped down from his loft. "Well, you obviously came here to talk, so go on. Give me the lecture on how much of a fuckup I am. Tell me that Betsy wants to be with you instead of shacking up with me, or whatever. I got it."

I took a seat in his rolling desk chair. "I'm not going to say any of that. I just want to know what the hell is going on with you. I know we have our faults, but you can be a really good guy when you want to be. Where the fuck is your head, man?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

"I think you do."

He blew out a breath of air. "Fuck, man. I don't know. You know sometimes I just can't control the things in my head. I can't control anything. Sometimes it feels like every single thing is falling apart and the only way to get a handle on it, is to take life by the balls and then break them."

I nodded. "I get that."

"Do you?" He stared at me with bloodshot eyes. "Do you know what it's like to always be second best in your family? To never get what you want? Fuck, man, even Betsy has me as one of her many side guys, so I take it and treat her like shit because I know if I don't care about anything, it's easier. My old man and my brothers are used to me being the fuckup, so I just keep playing the role and I play it fucking well. No one expects anything and when I fuck up, they just roll with it."

Now I knew what Cali meant by saying we were alike. My dad and brothers had always treated me the same way. I was always in their shadow. But instead of acting out, I just stayed reserved. I guess we all chose our own path: hero or villain.

"You know there are other ways to take out your anger other than hitting chicks, or getting drunk."

Rico laughed. "Yeah, I know, man. I know. Sometimes my hands do things before my head can even think about it. Then, I feel like the biggest dick, but there is nothing I can do about it, because the damage is already done."

I stood up and faced him. "It's never too late to change who you are."

"Says who?" He asked.

"Says everyone. We have, what, one more month of college? No one is going to care in a few months, that we were crazy kids who got drunk more than once. We'll be out in the real world. Working jobs. Meeting different people. We can be whoever we want."

"Yeah. Maybe you can. You have all of that going for you. Me? This is it."

I shook my head. "It doesn't have to be, Rico. "

He raised an eyebrow. "Do you really believe that? Do you really believe things can change that easily?"

I smiled. "If I didn't, I wouldn't be here talking to you now."

Rico let out a deep breath. "You know I didn't hit her, man. I wouldn't do that to a girl. She really did fall off the loft here. I should have helped her. I should have fucking done something, but instead, I just stared and watched her limp down the stairs."

I cocked an eyebrow. "Why?"

He shook his head. "Because I knew everyone would think I did it anyway and maybe I was hoping they'd assume it and, I don't know, someone would finally call me on my shit."

"So, you're telling me that you actually want to be called out?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, man. I'm not into this psychoanalysis bullshit, but if I'm the type of dude who watches girls fall from his loft and does nothing, then maybe I really am a bad guy."

I folded my arms across my chest. "Tell you what, if you apologize to Betsy and then agree to go to Student Health services and sign up for some counseling or something, then we won’t have to talk about this again."

He shook his head and let out a laugh. "You want me to see a shrink?"

"Look, man, it's either that or you're going to end up in jail one of these days. The choice is yours."

A knock came out the door before either of us could say another word. Cali popped his head in. "Is everything cool in here, man?"

Rico looked at me then smiled, nodding at Cali. "Yeah, everything is cool, man. Short Stack and I were just coming to an agreement."

"Good, because you have a visitor downstairs, Short Stack," Cali said.

I blinked. "Oh. Okay."

I walked past Cali, patting him on the back before I went down the stairs.

Betsy was standing in the foyer. Her makeup wiped off from the night before and dressed down in a tank top and a pair of shorts. If at all possible, she looked even more beautiful.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey," I replied and walked up to her.

"You left pretty early this morning."

I nodded. "Yeah. I had to get back."

She bit her lip. "I was hoping you'd stay around, but since you left, I figured you'd be here."

"Sorry," I muttered.

"Sorry enough to take me to breakfast?"

I smiled. "For you? Yeah. It's a date."

She grinned and looped her arm through mine. "I like the sound of that."

 

 

 

About The Author:

Magan Vernon has been living off of reader tears since she wrote her first short story in 2004. She now spends her time killing off fictional characters, pretending to plot while she really just watches Netflix, and she tries to do this all while her two young children run amok around her Texas ranch.

 

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