Vix watched Sawyer all but run for the door, frowning and wondering if she should go after her. Sawyer had been acting weird all day. Friendly enough, but clearly avoiding Vix.
“I don’t think she likes me,” Jax said, pouting a bit. “Why is that? Did you tell her I’m an asshole or something?”
“No, but I mean, she can listen to your songs.” It was a weak retort, and she knew it. Most of Racer’s songs were about Jax’s inability to have a lasting relationship when he was trying to have a career in this industry. She sipped her vodka, mixed with hotel ice and cheap cranberry juice in a plastic cup, and wondered if she should let it go. She wasn’t Sawyer’s babysitter, and maybe she was tired. There was no rule she had to party after the show.
Jax leaned in and said in her ear, “I’m gonna go smoke. I’ll be out by the van.”
Vix patted him on the arm and handed him her vodka and cranberry juice. “Remember what I said today? I have other plans.”
“Your other plans don’t seem too happy with you.” Jax held his hands up at Vix’s glare. “And I meant if you needed to talk. That’s all.”
She knew Jax well enough to know the offer was serious. He might have problems keeping a relationship together, but he was a good guy.
Sighing, she made her way to the door. Jeff stepped neatly in front of her. “Think about what you’re doing before you do it, Vix.”
“Leaving?”
Jeff narrowed his eyes at her. When she’d met him, he’d had dyed-black hair and an eyebrow ring. He still had the eyebrow ring, but the hair was his normal brown and he had a touch of a receding hairline. None of them were getting any younger. He gestured at her with his beer can. “You know what. She’s leaving at the end of the summer, remember?”
“Yes, God, I know. But she’s upset, she’s my friend, and . . . would you get out of my way?” Vix was heartily tired of explaining that yes, she knew Sawyer wasn’t sticking around.
Jeff sighed. “Fine. But you’re making this really complicated, and you know how badly this can end, Vix. You know it.”
“Didn’t ask for your opinion, Jeff,” Vix snapped. She knew he was trying to help, but she wasn’t in the mood for his sudden paternalism.
She had to knock a few times before the door opened, since she didn’t have a key card. Sawyer opened the door, barefoot and wearing the dress she’d performed in. “Oh. Hi.”
“I don’t have a room key,” said Vix, feeling stupid.
“Right.” Sawyer walked over to the table with the television and picked up the little card, bringing it over. “Here.”
Vix pocketed it, then came in and closed the door behind her. “Are you sure everything is okay?”
“Jesus, why is everyone asking me that?” Sawyer snapped, eyes narrowing. She had her hands on her hips, chin tilted. Her face was flushed, and Vix knew it wasn’t from drinking.
“Because you’re acting weird?”
“Why, because I came back to the room? I wasn’t in the mood to hang out, is that, like, a crime?”
Vix rarely heard Sawyer sound so defensive. “No, it isn’t.”
“Great. So, go enjoy yourself with Jax and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Vix blinked. “What makes you think—”
“Victoria, don’t,” said Sawyer, her mouth set. “I know you guys hook up, okay? I can handle it. Yes, it’s a little weird. Is that what you want to hear? It’s weird, but believe me, I know I have no right to say that, and I’m trying to do the right thing here and give you your space.”
“My space?” Vix felt like she was two minutes into a conversation she didn’t remember starting. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Jax. You want to sleep with him, right? Go for it. I’m trying to get out of your way. No one is letting me,” she said peevishly. “And don’t bother lying, I heard you guys talking on the stage.”
Wait, what? Vix looked at her until she realized what Sawyer was talking about: the conversation she’d had with Jax before the show. “Did you hear me say I was going to sleep with him? Because I sure as fuck don’t remember saying that, Sawyer.”
“Why wouldn’t you? You’ve done it before.” Before Vix could say anything, Sawyer continued. “I know this is only a summer fling for us, Vix. So . . . go have fun. Go do what you do. It’s good for me to remember this isn’t really my life.”
Tension made Vix’s stomach knot unpleasantly. “You’re making a lot of assumptions right now. Just because I’ve fucked Jax before doesn’t mean I’m going to now.”
“Even though he wants to?”
Vix threw her hands up in the air. “What, like I can’t say no? Is that what you think of me?”
“You’re allowed to fuck whoever you want.”
“Yeah, thank you, I know that.” Vix stared hard at her. “Why are you so sure it was gonna be Jax? That’s why you were avoiding me.”
“It’s the last time we’ll see them. You’ll see me the rest of the tour.” Sawyer wouldn’t look at her. “Why wouldn’t you?”
“Is that honestly what you think? Why wouldn’t I? Without discussing it with you?”
“You don’t owe me any explanations,” Sawyer whispered, glancing down at the floor.
Vix was torn between wanting to explain herself and being angry. The alcohol and the late hour weren’t helping. “If you think that’s the kind of person I am, maybe you owe me some. For the record, just because Jax offered, doesn’t mean I’d say yes without . . . Jesus, without talking to you about it, first.”
“Because he thinks a threesome would be hot?”
“What is happening right now?” Vix demanded. She couldn’t understand why Sawyer was mad at her, because it also seemed like Sawyer wanted her to go sleep with Jax. “Are you mad because Jax wanted to sleep with me, or because I didn’t tell you that he offered? I was going to, but you’ve been ignoring me all day.”
“So you were going to talk to me about it. Why, to ask if I wouldn’t mind? If I wanted to join in?” Sawyer’s expression was mulish, and her arms crossed over her chest. “I don’t mind, and I don’t want to join in. There you go. Conversation had, now go have fun.”
“Sawyer,” Vix said, slowly, taking a step closer. “You realize the person in this room who wants me to fuck Jax isn’t me, right? You’re insisting I do something without bothering to find out if I want to.” A suspicion dawned. “You either think I’m incapable of turning down sex, or you think I’m incapable of turning down dick.”
The way Sawyer flinched, Vix knew she had her answer. Her concern blossomed fully into anger. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’re convinced my need for the D is so strong, I can’t resist it when it’s offered, even if I happen to be sleeping with someone else. Jesus, Sawyer, we’ve been over this.”
“Lie to me and tell me you didn’t think about it,” Sawyer snapped right back. “I heard you. You didn’t say no, Vix. Not right away.”
“You must have missed the part where I told him that it was an attractive offer, but I was going to have to pass because I had other plans,” Vix said. “The only reason he asked me again before I left was because you hadn’t said more than two words to me all night. And, hey, speaking of that—you know what would have been awesome? You mentioning this to me instead of sulking.”
“I wasn’t sulking,” Sawyer bit out. “I was staying out of your way.”
“Because you thought I couldn’t control myself.” Vix was angry again. She held her hands up. “I’m a slutty bisexual, after all.”
She waited for Sawyer to say something, to argue, but Sawyer said nothing. She stood with her back to Vix, staring at the curtain that was drawn over the window, a deeply ugly pattern of orange and sickly brown.
“Why do you care?” Vix was annoyed by Sawyer’s sudden refusal to talk. “This is only your summer vacation, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” said Sawyer. “It is. Only it doesn’t feel like very much of a vacation at the moment.”
Vix couldn’t argue with that. She contemplated Sawyer’s back as Sawyer contemplated the window. “Then I guess that means we should stop this.”
“Yeah,” Sawyer said, without looking at her. “I guess it does.”
“Probably for the best.” Vix wanted to pull Sawyer’s hair and make her do something, react in some way. Argue. Tell Vix that no, it wasn’t for the best. Not give up when things didn’t go the way she wanted.
That’s what she does, though, isn’t it? It was an uncharitable thought, to be sure. Vix wasn’t feeling very nice.
“Probably,” Sawyer agreed.
Vix waited a few more seconds, but when Sawyer didn’t so much as move, she turned and left the room. The sound of the door clicking shut was louder than any shout, echoing in the quiet hallway. They might—might—be able to go back to being friends, but Vix doubted it. The door shutting felt way too literal, and it depressed the hell out of her.
There was only one thing left to do.
“You look pretty bummed,” Jax said, sitting on the seat of his open van, smoking a cigarette and listening to a Johnny Cash song. “How can I cheer you up?”
Vix went right to it. “I’m not here for sex. I’m here to be sad about a girl.”
“Hey, I’m pretty good company when it comes to heartbreak,” Jax offered. He also waved a flask at her. “Got some bourbon, if you want. It’s the good stuff, so I save it for special occasions, but I’ll share.”
Vix didn’t generally like whiskey, so she felt bad taking a swig of what was sure to be very good and expensive bourbon. Still, she took a drink out of the flask, then passed it back to Jax, who slipped it in his pocket. Vix leaned against the van and lit a cigarette, quiet. Jax sang along with the Johnny Cash song and let her sulk.
“She thought I’d fuck you because I missed dick, and Sawyer has some . . . let’s just say her ideas about what it means to be bisexual are way too tied up in this mythical binary-gender thing,” Vix said, after the cigarette, the night air, and the small amount of whiskey mellowed her out. “And she thought she was giving me space because she doesn’t ‘own me’ or some shit.”
“Yeah that’s so . . . Wait, what’s wrong with that?” Jax peered at her through a cloud of cigarette smoke. “I mean, the space thing. That’s good, ain’t it?”
“I wasn’t going to sleep with you, that’s the problem. And she assumed I was because you have a cock.”
“I’m the villain in this story and I don’t even get laid,” Jax lamented. He paused. “I bet I can turn that into a song.”
Musicians. Vix spared a brief smile and then sighed hugely. “I just get so mad when people think bisexuals can’t be faithful, or that we have this narrow definition of gender based entirely on genitals, or that we can’t be with one person without yearning for another. It’s so . . .” she waved her hand around, narrowly missing hitting the side of the van with her cigarette, “simple, you know? I get that Sawyer is new to a lot of this but I don’t know how to make it any clearer. ”
“Yeah, I get that,” said Jax. “Half the time the girls I date break up with me because they assume I’m gonna cheat on the road. I don’t know if that’s because I’m bi, though. People have ideas about musicians. The other half, they break up with me ’cause I’m never there.” He shrugged. “Sucks either way. Have her read some of Mary’s books, yo.”
Vix smiled a bit at that. “You’re not a cheater,” Vix pointed out. “You’re just never home.”
“No, but I mean, it’s all symptoms of the same disease, ain’t it?” Jax’s smile was as harsh as his voice. “I’m never home, and whether whoever I’m dating thinks that means I’m straying on the road or is sick of communicating through text messages or seeing me once every two months, either way, I’m alone at the end.”
Vix gave him a concerned look. There was a lot more melancholy in his voice than she was used to, which made her wonder if he’d recently ended a relationship. They’d never hooked up when he was dating someone, but his proposition didn’t mean that he wasn’t single now. “You okay?”
“Sure.” Jax squinted and pointed at her with his cigarette. “This conversation is about your problems, not mine, Vix.”
Huffing, Vix ground her cigarette out under her boot. “The thing is, she’s . . . she’s going back to school, Jax. I got mad when she said this wasn’t her life, but why? Why did I get mad when she’s right?”
“Because, Vix,” Jax said. “You like her. And not like how you and me like each other. You like her like . . . you like someone.”
“I can’t believe you write songs for a living.”
“Look,” Jax said, clearly exasperated. “I’m older than you by a lot—fuck, I really am, aren’t I?—anyway, I’m older than you, and I know things. About liking people. But also about relationships and how they don’t work if you get mad and say things you don’t mean.”
“This is not helping me.” Vix wasn’t following Jax’s logic, but maybe that was because the whiskey was making her light-headed and she was tired.
“You mad at her because she thought you might want to fuck me since we’ve hooked up before? Really? Or are you mad that she cared and got jealous?”
“It’s weird, but believe me, I know I have no right to say that, and I’m trying to do the right thing here and give you your space.”
“I guess I’m mad she cares,” Vix mumbled. “Because maybe I do. Care. Ugh.” If she hadn’t, she would have done exactly what Sawyer thought and hooked up with Jax. And Sawyer was mad that she hadn’t because she didn’t want to get hurt, which made sense. And Vix was mad that Sawyer was leaving, and everything was terrible. What happened to uncomplicated?
“There you go.” Jax nodded sagely. “’M’sorry about that, because feelings are terrible.”
“How do I stop caring, Jax?” Vix sighed, kicking the heels of her boots against the asphalt. “How do I stop having feelings?”
Jax threw his head back and laughed. “If I could figure that out, Vix, I’d have written a lot fewer songs.”
Vix glared at him and lit another cigarette. “Put on some more sad music and be quiet so I can mope.”
As dawn finally broke through the clouds, Vix fell asleep curled up in the passenger seat of Jax’s van, listening to Johnny sing about lines and rings of fire.