Chapter 12- Jack
What the fuck just happened?
Basically I seduced my new band member and then she walked in on me going at it with two women.
Fucking perfect.
I didn’t mean to kiss her. It sounds so cliché to blame it on the tequila, especially since I wasn’t that drunk yet, but it did trigger my desire to want to taste her lips. Staring into her gorgeous eyes didn’t help with matters either.
They were as soft as I imagined. I could have kissed her all night, if she had let me. That’s another internal battle. What if she hadn’t stopped me? How far would it have gone? The thought is terrifying, because if she hadn’t stopped me I don’t think I would have.
Once she ran, I knew I needed to go after her, but I was too much of a coward. So I sat, drank more and then passed out. Suddenly, I felt someone kissing me.
My first thought was she came back. Returning her kiss, I opened my eyes to see Michelle coaxing me awake while her girlfriend Jan giggled beside her. These two are a couple that enjoy spicing things up with men.
I said something like, “Sorry girls, but I’m too drunk to move.”
They both saw this as a green light. Jan giggled some more and said, “No need to move baby. We’ll do all the work.”
I clumsily sat up with the intent to walk away, but they held me down to my spot on the couch, effectively winning that battle. They made out with each other. They made out with me. They felt me up. Tequila or not, my body responded immediately. It wasn’t the first time we got it on, but it’s been a while. For fuck’s sake, our reunion couldn’t have been at a worst time. I fully submitted, allowing them complete access, having no clue we were being watched.
Seeing Leila staring at me a few feet away shocked me sober. I pushed away from the girls at once, but she looked disgusted, right before she ran away. Ten minutes later and she would have seen a lot worst.
“Girls I’m done.” They laughed at first, until they realized I was serious. I asked them to leave and they stormed off while cursing me out in the process. Whatever.
SHIT!
She was not supposed to see that. How the fuck am I going to fix this?
As I sit glued to this plastic couch, a horrible thought pops into my head. What if the girls are harassing Leila for ruining their good time? I frantically make my way back to my apartment to make sure they are gone. The apartment is quieter now that only a few people are lulling around. No sign of Michelle or Jan. There is also no sign of Leila, or her friends.
Hunter and Amanda are on the couch with Scott and Patti. There are still a group of partiers drinking heavily in the kitchen. Hunter looks up and immediately knows what state I am in.
“Sleep it off man.” He says giving me permission to bail. I am going to anyway, but his consent makes it easier to hide away in my room.
“Make sure no one bothers me.”
Some of the girls try in vain to get my attention. Taking the tequila with me, I head for my room, locking the door behind me. I try calling Leila’s phone, but it goes right to voice mail.
“Leila, it’s Jack. I am so sorry. Please call me back tomorrow. I want to talk to you.”
I resume my tequila binge until the bottle is empty, puke my brains out and then expertly pass out.
What seems like minutes later, I wake from someone banging on my door. They may as well be hitting me over the head with a sledgehammer. I stumble out of bed with the intent to beat the living shit out of whoever it is.
I scream, “WHAT THE FUCK!” into Hunter’s face and take a step closer as he instinctively takes a step back.
He throws his hands up in surrender and says, “Goddamn it Jack, I thought you were dead. I’ve been pounding on this door and calling your cell phone and I didn’t hear a peep from you. For all I knew you hit your head on the toilet and choked on your own vomit.”
I feel some remorse for shouting at him. “Sorry Hunt. I didn’t mean to worry you.” I can’t deal with Hunter being mad at me too.
“Just glad you are alive. Based on how you looked last night, my scenario isn’t so far- fetched.”
“I guess not. Remind me to never drink tequila again. My head feels like it’s made of cement. ” Making my way to the kitchen, I catch a glimpse of the condition of our apartment.
“This place is a fucking mess. Hire someone to clean this up because I’m not doing it.”
“Yeah, whatever. How much did you have last night?”
“And don’t even think of banging around in this kitchen because I WILL KILL YOU!”
I start prepping the coffee maker hearing him mumble “Christ.” while he quietly opens doors to get his breakfast ready.
“What did you ask me?”
“How much tequila did you drink last night?”
“I don’t know half a bottle? I lost track.”
“Fuck dude. No wonder you didn’t hear me pounding. Is something bothering you? The last time you broke out the tequila was when you were telling your parents you were dropping out.”
“I just have a lot on my mind.” I pour my first cup of coffee and after two sips I’m feeling a little better already.
Hunter is standing at the sink, watching me arrogantly and loudly eating his Fruit Loops.
“Do you have to chew so loud?” Glaring at him, I grab my coffee and head up to the roof to avoid his condescending stare.
“Call Jen and tell her we’ll be in this afternoon. I need air.”
Hunter mumbles, “What you need is your ass kicked.” I pretend I didn’t hear him, and shut the door behind me.
Hunter is absolutely right.
Usually sitting on the roof clears my head. Now it’s tainted. It holds memories I’d like to forget, specifically the look on her face.
We were getting along so nicely. I enjoyed being with her during our lunch together. The more time I spend with her, the more I want to spend with her. I can’t imagine what she is thinking or feeling right now.
Bullshit, I suspect she’s thinking what the fuck did I sign on to?
Pulling out my phone, I’m not surprised there isn’t a response to my voicemail. This only confirms my suspicions. This is unfamiliar territory for me. I am not used to giving a crap about what someone thinks about me.
All these meaningless relationships, what the hell was I thinking? I’ve convinced myself, since the girls I fucked called the shots, that it was ok. I have a nasty taste in my mouth, and I doubt it’s from my hangover.
I really do need to fix this. I don’t know her well enough to show up at her apartment to talk. A phone call would be more appropriate. My fingers reflexively hit my contacts icon. I sit and stare at her name but chicken out and shut off my phone.
I need some time, a good dose of nerve, and a good ass kicking.