Girl Love Happens Boxed Set: Books 0-2

by T. B. Markinson

  Jenny was punching numbers into the cordless phone.

  Gemma was smiling victoriously.

  “No answer.” Jenny set the phone next to her on the plush carpet.

  “Give it time,” Gemma said in a coaxing tone. “She’ll have to get more clothes or something.”

  Jenny agreed with a bob of her head. “And I won’t leave until she does.”

  “What about classes?” I asked.

  Jenny hunched further into the beanbag. “They don’t matter. Nothing matters but Bernie.”

  I flashed back to one of my first conversations with Michelle about how Jenny was desperate to be in a relationship and Michelle hinting that Jenny wouldn’t make the wisest choices. Man, she hadn’t been exaggerating. A thought struck me. Was Michelle referring to relationship choices or all decisions like drinking?

  “Where’s Michelle?” I asked as nonchalantly as possible. Maybe one of Jenny’s oldest friends could talk some sense into her. Yes, I’d caused this fuckup, but at the heart of the story was Bernie’s cheating. And her overreaction to the missing diary. She didn’t deserve Jenny.

  My blood went cold.

  I’d forgotten to retrieve the torn pages from the diary from the trash can. Surely, they were still there. Gem was faithful about taking the trash out to the dumpsters, but I didn’t remember her doing that on the way to my car.

  Putting a hand to my cheek, I audibly sighed.

  “You okay, Teeg?” Gemma looked at Jenny. “She’s been unwell but didn’t want to miss being here for you.”

  Jenny leaned forward to place a hand on my knee. “You two are the best. Absolute best.”

  I repeated my question about Michelle.

  “Oh, she’s in Denver. Something about Seb.” Jenny’s face displayed she was irked to be ditched during her hour of need.

  “Is Seb okay?” Gemma asked.

  “I thought they broke up,” I added.

  “They did!” Jenny slapped her thigh. “But the moment he calls about God knows what, Michelle drops everything to run to him. It’s sickening.”

  I had to stop myself from laughing in her face, considering the antics she and Bernie had been perpetrating over a stupid diary. Another wave of unease splashed through me.

  “I hope everything is okay,” Gemma said. “And I’m sure the reason for her going is valid.”

  Jenny, with clenched jaw, conceded, “You’re probably right, but I get the feeling she’s been avoiding me lately.”

  The doorknob started to twist, and all three of us spun our heads around to see who was entering. Then the doorknob rattled, and someone shouted, “Dude, it’s locked.”

  Jenny scrunched down into the beanbag. “It’s Paula.”

  Gemma got up and went to the door to let her in, although from the tightness in her upper body, I was certain Gem wasn’t happy Paula was contributing to Jenny’s drinking, which had been increasing at an alarming speed since the beginning of summer. Not to mention her smoking dope with Cuddy. I’d been around alcohol and pot since high school, and for the most part, neither bothered me. Then again, none of my high school friends had taken it to Jenny’s level.

  Paula and three of Jenny’s other teammates crashed through the door, each with a six-pack of beer tucked under one of their tanned arms.

  “Got beer.” Paula laughed, showcasing her massive white teeth.

  Jenny wiggled about, shaking the journal above her head. “Tegan found it! Tegan found it!”

  Everyone clapped me on the back as if I hit a homerun in a championship game. With my spirits severely lagging, I whispered to Gem, “I’m not feeling so well.”

  Gemma nodded her understanding and casually made her way to Jenny, leaning over to whisper in her ear. Jenny, over the moon about the discovery, nodded and waved to me.

  Gem and I squeezed past two teammates who looked sort of familiar, but I couldn’t remember their names. The stocky brunette shook her can before opening it, spraying everyone in the room, even my backside as the door closed.

  Gemma rolled her eyes. “I love sports, but some jocks…” She let the sentence trail off, befitting for someone who rarely ripped into anyone.

  I hooked my arm through Gem’s and rested my head on her shoulder. “Take me home, please.”

  In the parking lot, Gemma put her hands out for my keys, deeming me too ill to be behind the wheel. My hands shook slightly, and my pulse still raced from all the monkey business, so I didn’t object.

  Sitting behind the wheel, Gemma reached over and felt my forehead with her hand. “Maybe you should call in sick to work.”

  The idea appealed to me, but I knew deep down I shouldn’t. Manning a register during the Saturday night movie rush seemed like adequate punishment for my stupidity. “Got bills to pay.” I shrugged. “Besides, I’ll never make manager before I finish school if I start that trend.”

  “Manager, huh?” Gemma cracked a proud smile. “I didn’t know you had such high ambitions.”

  I laughed, releasing some of the tension skimming under the surface. “Let’s go home and take a nap. I have a few hours.”

  “And no fooling around.” Gemma shook a stern finger.

  “Please, you can pretend, but you find me irresistible.”

  “I’ll sleep in my own room if need be, although maybe you should sleep in my room and I’ll rest in yours since my mattress is cozier.” She reversed out of the parking spot, her hand on the back of my headrest with her head turned.

  “It’s not the mattress. I sleep better in your arms.”

  She put the car into first. “Then we both have to promise to behave. I won’t have you getting sick or anything on my watch. It’s my job to protect you.”

  I rested my head against the seat. “What’s my job?”

  “To feed me.” She placed a hand on her belly. “Your pancakes were so good I may never go to IHOP again.”

  “Whatever.”

  “It’s true. I’m going to start calling you Chef.”

  “What happened to Mistress of the Kitchen?”

  “Too wordy. Besides, Chef has a nobler ring, and you my dear, are one of the noblest. Rushing to Jenny’s aid in her time of need.”

  I pinched my eyes shut. “I don’t feel so well.”

  ***

  The next day, Gem and I sat on the balcony in beat-up lawn chairs we’d purchased at a Goodwill in Denver. One of the straps on my chair was torn and flapped against my leg with each burst of wind. Chicago was known as the windiest city, but I considered our sleepy college town the gustiest one.

  Jenny and Bernie, hand in hand, climbed the staircase.

  “Hello!” Jenny grinned.

  “Hey, lovebirds,” I said, doing my best to control my nerves.

  Gemma looked askance at me, making it known I wasn’t successful.

  “Jenny tells me I have both of you to thank for the recovery of my diary. In the bottom oven drawer.” Bernie squeezed Jenny’s hand, making the fingers whiten at the tips.

  “We didn’t do anything, really,” Gemma said.

  “Not true.” Jenny lifted their conjoined hands and kissed Bernie’s treacherous fingertips. “Because of you two, we’ve patched things up.”

  I started to rise, but Gemma motioned for me to stay put.

  “Here, take my seat,” Gemma said.

  Bernie sat next to me, while Gemma and Jenny sat on the top step with their heads turned so they could keep us in their line of sight.

  “Why don’t we sit inside?” I started to rise again.

  Bernie seized my arm. “Let’s stay out here. I love the wind.”

  Loved the wind? Who enjoyed their hair whipping in their face? The surges of cold digging deep into their flesh? The woman was more deranged than I gave her credit for.

  I resettled in the chair, turning my body just enough not to see Bernie out of the corner of my eye. “Jenny, how’s the finger?”

  She pressed it. �
�Feels fine, thanks again to you.”

  A bark of laughter escaped me. “I didn’t stitch you up. The doctor did.”

  “But you told me to go. Who knows how much worse it could have been?”

  “Three stitches don’t equate to a life and death situation.” Bernie rattled my arm with her cold hand. “Right, Tiny T?”

  “Right,” I said, uncomfortable with her still touching my arm. “Would anyone like something to drink?”

  “Got any beer?” Jenny asked.

  Gemma shook her head. “Fresh out. How about a Coke?”

  “Okay,” Jenny said, disappointed.

  “Bernie?” Gemma brushed the back of her navy Umbros.

  Bernie nodded. “Thanks, Gem.”

  I hated hearing my nickname for my redhead cross the viper’s lips.

  Bernie shifted her chair to put me back in her line of sight. “Now the big mystery is how my diary ended up where Gemma found it.” She leaned on the armrest next to me. “It was Gem who found it?”

  “It sure was.” Jenny accepted the can from Gemma, who’d returned much quicker than I’d anticipated.

  “I thought you sleepwalk?” Gemma asked, genuinely interested.

  “I do, but usually I do stupid things, like curl up on the floor in the bathroom. Not write in my journal.”

  “Did you write an entry?” Gemma retook her seat on the step, resting her back against the wooden slats of the railing.

  “Not that I can tell.”

  “Hmmm… maybe you were reading it.” Jenny sipped her Coke with a grimace as if it hurt her to drink anything non-alcoholic.

  “Possible. What do you think, Tegan?” Bernie turned her cold eyes on me.

  “Haven’t given it much thought.” I hid half of my face behind the red and white logo of the soda company.

  Bernie bobbed her head. “Maybe we’ll never figure it out.” She hitched an uncaring shoulder in such a way I was certain she actually meant no matter what, she’d get to the bottom of the mystery. “Oh, Tegan. I heard you weren’t feeling well yesterday. How are you today?”

  “Much better.”

  Gemma looked to me, then Bernie, and rested her eyes back on me. Was she connecting the dots? No. There weren’t any crumbs for her to follow.

  “That’s good. I really hope our drama”—she tipped her can in Jenny’s direction—“didn’t upset you to the point you came down with a mysterious bug.”

  “That had nothing to do with it.” I actually got the words out in a somewhat convincing fashion.

  “Good.” She rose. “May I use your bathroom?”

  Gemma acknowledged the request with a nod.

  I didn’t like the sudden request. Seconds after she disappeared inside, I said, “I’ll be right back.”

  Inside, I listened in the hallway, not hearing any movement in the bathroom. I strutted into my bedroom with the intention of hiding behind my door to spy on Bernie through the crack.

  I skidded to a stop when I saw Bernie sitting on my bed, her legs crossed as if expecting me. “What are you doing in here?”

  Bernie put her hand out. “I want the pages back.”

  “What are you talking about?” I backed up a step.

  Unamused, Bernie shook her head, warning me to stop.

  I did.

  “The whole bottom drawer thing stank to high heaven as soon as I heard it. And my other missing diary, which I didn’t mention to Jenny because of a hunch, all of a sudden reappeared. I checked that diary. Carefully. I saw the pages torn out, including one date that you may remember because I won’t forget it, ever.” She studied my face. “Are you having a good time? Listening to Jenny sing your praises, knowing you’re at the heart of all this trouble?”

  I sat on my desk chair. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

  Bernie snorted. “I’m not in the mood. Hand them over and I won’t ever bring this up again.”

  “I don’t have them.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  I tried staring her down in hopes of getting her to think she’d made a grave mistake.

  She stood. “You give me no choice but to tell Gemma and Jenny everything.”

  “Wait! I meant I don’t have them here. They’re in my locker at work.” I avoided her eyes by staring at my dangling flip-flop. Last night, before heading to work, I dug the pages out of the trash, and the only safe spot I could think of was the theater.

  “Have you read them?”

  I shook my head, not budging my concentration from my foot.

  “I want them back. When’s your next shift?”

  “This afternoon.”

  “What time do you start?”

  “Five.”

  “Fine. I’ll drop by five minutes after the hour.” She left in a huff.

  I leaned over on the chair, grabbing my legs and rocking.

  “Tegan?” Gemma entered the room. “Geez, you’re really sick. I’ll ask our guests to leave.”

  Unable to speak, I let her guide me to my bed. After tucking me under the covers, Gemma left, presumably to kick out Jenny and Bernie. Good riddance.

  Busting Out

  Chapter One

  At a quarter to five, Gemma dropped me off at work. After she pulled away in her jalopy, I stepped back into the parking lot, scanning the scattering of cars in search of Bernie’s BMW. It wasn’t in sight.

  In the employee area, I retrieved the diary entries from my locker and snuck into Marc’s office, knowing he was training a new guy and wouldn’t notice me using the copy machine. In the past, he had allowed me to use it occasionally for school stuff. Quickly, I scanned the pages and put the copies in my locker. Then I folded the originals in half and tucked them into the back pocket of my black chinos.

  With that done, there was only one minute until Backstabbing Bernie’s arrival. I carried the cash drawer from the safe to my station. Not surprisingly, Bernie stood outside the glass door, her hands thrust deep in her jeans pockets. At least I could tell she didn’t have a baseball bat.

  After inserting the cash drawer into place, I skirted around the counter and met Bernie outside. “Here.” I shoved the pages into her hand. “You and I both know you aren’t innocent in this whole thing.”

  “Don’t argue innocence with a law student. It won’t end well for you.”

  “If I remember correctly, you’re only prelaw,” I said, unsure why I continued to press her buttons.

  Bernie inhaled sharply. “Don’t ever come to my apartment again. Snoops are not wanted.” She turned on her heel and stomped to her expensive car that her daddy bought her.

  “Bitch,” I muttered under my breath and retreated inside the lobby. Wouldn’t Jenny start to wonder why I wasn’t going to her apartment, if I followed Bernie’s directive? Surely, the Brilliant Bernie, could see the flaw in her plan.

  A handful of people leaving a three o’clock showing filtered out. My nose twitched at the smell of burnt popcorn turning my stomach.

  Marc waved it’s okay to me, although from his frantic movements, he was trying to limit the smell before the evening crowds bum-rushed the registers. With my frazzled nerves and queasiness, this was not the night to break in a newbie. I wasn’t in a position to do anything about it, though, so I plastered on a helpful smile and went to Marc’s aid.

  ***

  Gemma picked me up promptly outside the theater at the end of my shift. She opened the door for me. “How are you feeling?”

  I kissed her cheek before sliding into the passenger seat. “Fine.”

  Gemma hurried around the back of the Datsun and climbed behind the wheel. “Let’s get you home and in bed.”

  “Really, I feel much better.”

  Gemma cranked the wheel and pulled out of the lot. “Glad to hear it. And a little more TLC won’t hurt. Do your muscles ache? I can prop you up in the shower.”

  I laughed. “Hey, I won’t turn down the opportunity to g
et wet with you, but seriously, I don’t need you to prop me up. Unless…” I ran a finger up the inseam of her jeans.

  She peeked at me. “You really are feeling better.”

  “And frisky!” I growled playfully. “Put the pedal to the medal. Grannies drive faster than you.”

  “Do you often go home with grannies?”

  “Ewww! Gemma! Don’t make me puke again. That’s not something I like doing in front of you.”

  She laughed. “I’m sure it won’t be the last time. You, sweetheart, are a puker.”

  “I am not.” I hugged my chest.

  “Yes, you are. I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve held your hair back. And it’s not only when you’re sick or drunk. Stress or worry does you in.”

  “You make me sound so weak.”

  Gemma pulled into the lot of our apartment, driving around the bend to get us closer to our front door. Her usual spot was taken, but three slots down was free. She killed the ignition. “Come on, weakling.”

  I slammed my door shut. “Don’t call me that.”

  She rested her hands on the rusted roof of the car. “What? Weakling?”

  I waggled a threatening finger over the top of the Datsun. “Don’t. Or no shower for you.”

  “Weakling,” she said with the most glorious smile.

  “I’m serious. One more and…”

  She quirked a brow. “Seeing the flaw in your threat?”

  I sucked in a mouthful of air, releasing it slowly. “Seeing the flaw in your pursuit? Neither of us will get some tonight.”

  Gemma straightened. “Actually, the last time we used the vibrator was in my room, where it’s still hidden in my underwear drawer.”

  “You wouldn’t!”

  “Use it without you?” she asked. The streetlamp behind her head made her hair glow a vibrant devilish red.

  I eyed her with what I hoped was enough menace.

  She ran for our building.

  I gave chase, reaching the bottom of the stairs one step behind her.

  Gemma, much faster on the stairs, got inside, and with a second to spare, she shut the door in my face.

  I dug into my purse for my key. Much to my surprise, Gemma stood in the front room, waiting for me instead of dashing for her bedroom. “Tired?” I asked.