He takes his hands away from my sides and stands, moving around me. I grab his arm to stop him, but he gives me such a pained look that I let go.
With one final look, he shuts my door and then I hear the front door close as well.
I crumple and luckily find my bed before I fall to the floor.
Oh. My. God.
One moment I thought we were going to . . . and then he . . .
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. My phone vibrates, startling me.
I’m sorry.
Just two words. They don’t explain anything. Not what had happened between us, or why he had left. Or why he had used the safe word.
So I answer his text with three letters.
Why?
I set my phone on the bed and wait for an answer.
I wait for twenty minutes. The tea is cold by now and the bear mug is glaring at me, so I turn it around so it will stop judging me.
I wait another half hour and realize that he’s not going to answer me. So I turn off the light and go to bed.
Cold and alone.
“Wake up!” Something soft smashes me in the face, and I open my eyes.
“Are you awake yet?” Hazel yells. Jesus Christ.
“I am now,” I moan. I’d spent most of the night tossing and turning and reaching for something, but not finding it. Doesn’t take a genius to know what that’s about.
“Get up. The day is a-wasting.” What the crap is she talking about? It’s Sunday. We don’t have to be up for anything on Sunday.
“You’re insane,” I say, trying to pull the blankets over my head, but that causes Hazel to rip them away from me. She jumps on my bed and sticks her face in mine.
“We’re going to get your mind off your boyfriend issues and it starts now. Come on.” I listen and realize there are voices outside my door. Seriously, what the hell is up with this?
“Is she up yet?” Cass yells through the door.
“Almost,” Hazel calls back. This is unbelievable.
“Come on, rise and shine. Or at least rise. You don’t have to shine. You can be as non-shiny as you want, but just GET UP.” She smacks me with the pillow again and that’s it. I grab it away from her and smash her in the face with it.
“That’s my girl,” she says, taking my arm and pulling me upright. I’m still wearing the lace number. Looking down at myself makes me remember last night and I don’t want to remember last night. Hazel hands me the robe and I put it on, making sure everything is covered. Then she drags me out into the kitchen, where the rude awakening continues. A Styrofoam cup of coffee is shoved into one hand, a donut in the other.
The whole gang is here, and they’re all painfully perky, but they’re all wearing concern on their faces as well. God, it’s like someone died.
“Chop, chop,” Hazel says, clapping her hands in my ear. I am going to KILL her. Instead, I sip my coffee and munch my donut.
Either they all decided to get together and randomly cheer me up, or Hazel called all of them and hatched this plan. When, I have no idea. Maybe she was busy texting on her phone last night when I thought she was sleeping.
I finish my breakfast under the watchful eyes of my friends. It’s a little like being in a zoo. I just want them to act normal, but I suppose that is too much to ask.
“Okay, someone has to say something or else I’m going to go back to bed,” I say tossing my coffee cup.
“Since this is your first fight with your boyfriend, we thought you would need a little cheering up,” Cass finally says. The rest of them nod like bobble heads.
“We just had a fight, guys.” Or at least that was what happened before the safe word happened. I have no idea what’s going to happen now. I mean, is this THE END, the end?
I need to talk to Jett. I don’t think texting is going to work. I’ve got to do this face-to-face. I guess it will have to wait, though, until after whatever shenanigans these bitches have planned.
“Oh, honey,” Jordyn says, her drawl even thicker than normal. It seems to come out more when she’s comforting someone. She wraps her arms around me and gives me a hug. I have to hand it to her, she’s a really good hugger. Must be a southern thing, along with the comforting voice.
I hug her back, but I am not breaking down. Not until I know for sure, for sure.
Apparently, the way to get over heartache is to go to a salon, and steep yourself in chemicals while you get your nails done, followed by seeing a movie with the most shirtless guys per minute, followed by a most fattening lunch. Not that I don’t like any of those things, but when they prevent me from seeing Jett, I resent them, just a little.
I try to have fun, but it’s kind of miserable. They do their best, making me laugh and looking for new guys to help me “get over him.”
“The fastest way to get over someone is to get under someone else. Especially since he was your first. You know. If it doesn’t work out,” Daisy says.
“We just had a fight,” I repeat. They all give each other sad faces, like I’m delusional.
“Well, you didn’t start dating him under the best circumstances,” Cass says. Yeah, and whose fault is that? I glare and they all have the sense to look guilty.
“We,” Hazel says, motioning to the collective and then sighing. “We’ve been talking, a lot, and we feel like assholes. For taking your keys at the bar and pressuring you into getting with Jett. It wasn’t right and we’re sorry. All of us. You were so upset when you fought with him and we feel responsible.” They all nod like one person.
I cross my arms. This should have been said a while ago. It’s kind of a little too late. Now that they’re apologizing, I realize how much this has been bothering me lately, and how much I’ve been brushing it off, and trying to be non-confrontational about it. This is what happens when you let things fester over time.
And then I lose it.
“Oh you’re sorry now? Fuck you very much for that. I’m so glad that you are sorry NOW, WAY after the fact. It should have never happened in the first place! You’re supposed to be my fucking friends and you treated me like shit. I’m done.” The rage that had been quietly simmering since that night erupts and if I don’t leave, I’m going to say a lot of other things.
So I storm out, grabbing my keys and purse on the way. I’d made them let me take my own car, with the hope I could escape and go see Jett.
“Don’t fuck with me right now,” I say to my car as I turn the key and it roars to life.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” I peel out of the parking lot and realize I have nowhere to go. Again. My stupid fucking friends have done it again. My hands shake on the steering wheel and tears blur my vision. I pull over before I kill someone and then I grab my purse and make sure the little present I made for Jett is in it. It’s not much, really, but I hope it will mean something to him.
When I finally get to Jett’s apartment, I knock on the door and Javier answers it, narrowing his eyes at me.
“Well, you’re back.” Jesus, I’m afraid he’s going to punch me. He must see the horror on my face because then he ducks his head and I swear, he’s laughing.
Um, what? That’s the last reaction I thought I would get. He stands back up, still laughing.
“Did you really think I was going to buy that performance last night? Come on in.” He holds the door wide and I stumble past him.
“What? I don’t know what you mean?” I don’t sound convincing at all.
He puts his arm around me.
“Seriously, you can drop the act. Nice try, but I know Jett and I know that he would never talk like that, especially in public. So nice try, babe.”
“Where is he?” I say, ignoring what he just said.
He finally seems to register that I’m gross and snotty. I should have grabbed a box of tissues when I stormed out. Didn’t think of that at the time.
“I just needed a place to go.” I can feel the tears trying to start up again, but I fight them back.
“Of course.” He pats my shoulder and leads me into the living room and sits me down on the couch. Good thing I’m not afraid of it anymore.
I’ve never seen Javier so serious. For the VERY first time, he’s at a loss for words. Huh, who knew crying girls render Javier speechless?
“I’m sorry. You don’t have to do anything. I’ll just sit here until Jett gets back. Go about your business.”
“Fuck that,” Javier says and dashes to the bathroom, coming back with a box of tissues before running to the fridge and bringing back a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass.
He pours a shot and holds it out to me.
“Drink it,” he says when I look at him as if he’s grown an extra limb from his head. My hands are still a little shaky as I take the glass from him. I’ve never done a straight whiskey shot before, but there’s no time like the present, so I tip my head back and down it in three gulps.
Of course I choke on it. God, it’s like drinking gasoline. I sputter and Javier hands me a tissue to wipe my face. I hack up a lung and gasp and he bangs my back.
“Burns so good, doesn’t it?” Not really. But when I’m finally able to breathe, I do feel a tiny bit better. Just a tiny bit. Then he gets me a glass of water and I chug that down.
“Do you want to talk about it? Because I’m a terrible advice giver, but I can listen.” Welp, he seems to be my only option. I could text Amelia, but that would mean explaining the whole Jett situation, and Javier already knows about it.
“My friends are assholes,” I say, blowing my nose again. That pretty much sums it up. Javier pours another shot, but this time he takes it himself. He knocks it back in one gulp and doesn’t even cough.
“Yeah, Jett filled me in on the whole thing.” Well, Jett doesn’t KNOW the whole thing, but I’ll go along with it.
“I’m just tired of being treated as their pity friend. They should want to be friends with me because I’m fun to hang out with and we have things in common and we care about one another. Being friends with someone because you feel sorry for them is the worst reason to be friends. Ever.”
I think I’m starting to feel the shot now. My face is getting warmer and my belly is burning little bit. I almost want to do another shot, but if I do, I won’t be able to drive home, that’s for sure. If I even want to go back.
“Then why are you staying friends with them? Ditch those bitches.” Simple advice, hard to follow.
“It’s not that easy. They’re all I’ve got.”
“What about me? What about Jett?” He doesn’t mention my family, which tells me that Jett probably told him about my issues with my family.
“That’s not enough. Hazel was my best friend when I didn’t have anyone. Not even my family. She was there for me. And the rest, same thing. They’ve been there.”
“So? At some point ‘being there’ isn’t going to cut it. What’s the point of keeping someone in your life if they’re going to treat you that way.” I know he’s making sense. I know this.
“Well, I did just scream at them and use the word fuck a few times.” Javier chuckles and pours me another shot. I knock it back, but I still choke and cough.
“That’s a start, blondie. We gotta bring out your inner bitch. You need to be more assertive. Don’t let people walk all over you.” He slaps me on the back and then takes another shot.
For someone who claims that they suck at advice, he’d done a good job.
“You’re not as much of an asshole as I thought you were,” I say as I lean back on the couch. I really need to go wash my face.
“Don’t tell anyone. We’ll keep that strictly between us.” He winks and takes the shot glasses and whiskey bottle back to the kitchen.
“Gaaahhhhh,” I say, rubbing my face. It’s still sticky from my tears.
“Oh, it’s not as bad as you think it is. You can find new friends. I happen to know some very nice young ladies that you could be friends with.”
“Um, like that one with the dress that we lost at the bar that time?”
“Victoria? No, definitely not her. She’s not very nice.” That sounds like an understatement. Not that I really know anything about her, other than the fact that she went out with Javier and she wore that, um, dress.
“Jett should be back in a few minutes. Do you want to stay?”
“I guess that’s the plan. I’ve got enough stuff here, so I can.” Now that we’re done drinking and I’m done crying, Javier looks like he doesn’t know what to do with me. I go wash my face and by the time I’m done Jett is back. I hear him and Javier talking in low voices, and I keep the water on so they won’t know I can hear them.
There’s a knock at the bathroom door.
“Shan? You okay?” I turn the water off and open the door. The alcohol has given everything a warm and hazy quality. Nothing seems that bad, and I’m kind of wondering what I was so upset about earlier.
“Yeah, I’m fine now.” Jett looks defeated. Even his mohawk isn’t styled. It’s limp and lifeless. I remember I once watched a movie about whales and the ones that have been raised in captivity, their top fin curls over. Like their spirit is broken. He reminds me of that right now.
He opens his arms and I hug him. He sniffs and pulls back.
“Are you drunk?”
“Not yet. But a few more shots and I will be. It’s Javi’s fault.” I pat his head and walk back out into the living room. And I crash right into the couch.
“Oh my gosh!” Jett’s holding onto me.
“Ow.” This couch hates me, I swear.
“Well, I think that is my cue to get the hell out of here, which I am going to do right now. Call me if you need anything. See you later, Meryl.”
I ignore the fact that he calls me Meryl because I’m too focused on Jett.
“I’m sorry I came, but my roommates—” I was still so mad at them I couldn’t even finish this sentence. “And I couldn’t let last night be it. Please talk to me,” I say, pulling out the present from my purse. It’s a crane I made out of notebook paper. I even drew a little Batman logo on the wings. It’s dumb, but it’s all I could think of.
I hold it out in both hands and he looks down at it. His façade cracks and he takes it from me.
“I’m sorry, Shannon. I just . . . I had a moment last night and I freaked out and bailed. I’ve been trying to think of how to call you and make up for it, but I didn’t know what to say. I’m so, so sorry.”
“So this isn’t the end?” He’s still looking at the crane.
“No, this is not the end. We can make it the next week and-a-half. How hard can it be?” He laughs a little. Right. How hard can it be?