Break You

by Jennifer Snyder

  It was like high school all over again, and in this moment, I was fine with that.

  The drive from my house to Blue’s wasn’t but fifteen minutes or so. We’d listened to some rock band I’d never heard before the entire way. I’d forgotten how much of a rocker chick Marla was. She had the face of a fucking angel, but her insides were as wicked as they came.

  Marla swerved into the tiny parking lot. She made her own parking space on the bold yellow lines painted across the asphalt that showed where you weren’t allowed to park because you would block the door. I smirked and shook my head. Marla hadn’t changed a damn bit in the three years I’d been gone—she still didn’t think the rules applied to her. With a face like that and a body to match, I could see where sometimes they probably didn’t.

  Matt placed his arm over my shoulder when I stepped out of the car. “Come on. Let me buy you a shot.”

  “I’ll take you up on that offer,” I said, closing the car door as we walked away.

  Blue’s was dark and smelled of stale cigarettes and sweat. Music blasted from some speakers in the ceiling; it mixed with people talking and glasses clinking together. A guy dressed in tight Wranglers and a black T-shirt stopped me by placing a hand on my chest before I could get much farther inside.

  “License, please,” he said. His voice was gruff and firm. He obviously took this job seriously.

  “He’s with us; relax, Duke,” Matt said.

  “Don’t matter,” Duke said, his hand still placed firmly against my chest. “Still gotta see his license.”

  “What the fuck, man? Can’t you clearly see from looking at him that he’s at least twenty-one? Jesus.” Matt’s eyes bugged out from his irritation and his hands flailed wildly.

  “It’s cool, chill,” I said to Matt. Pushing big Duke’s hand off my chest, I reached into my back pocket for my wallet and slid out my I.D. “Here you go.”

  Duke glanced at it and then eyeballed me. “All right,” he said and nodded for me to enter.

  “I fucking hate that loser. He’s got such a power trip,” Matt said. I was grateful for all the noise of the place, because I was pretty sure if Duke heard him we would have been thrown out. “I swear he flunked out of the Police Academy or some shit and the only job he could find to fill his freakish power trip void was at this dump.”

  I shook my head. “Forget about it and buy me that shot you were talking about earlier.”

  Matt turned to look at me once we reached the bar. “What do you want? And no pussy shot either… Get something stout.”

  Pulling out a stool, I sat and glanced at the bottles lining the back wall. What did he think was a pussy shot? Marla sat on the stool between us, facing the dance floor. She rested her elbows on the counter and leaned back, crossing her long, tanned legs.

  “I’ll take a Jack,” I said. “Straight.”

  “Right on.” Matt smirked. Obviously he liked my choice. “Yo, Phil, over here.”

  The bartender stalked our way. He was tall with slicked-back hair and a plain white T-shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He looked like someone from a fifties movie, but the look suited him well.

  “What can I get ya, Matt?” Phil asked.

  “Two Jacks, straight, and…” Matt turned to Marla. “What do you want, babe? We’ll be here for a while, one drink won’t hurt you to drive.”

  Babe? They must be together.

  “You know what I like.” She grinned up at him.

  “And one Sex on the Beach,” Matt added to complete our order.

  “That’s right,” Marla said. “Any drink with the word sex in it has got to be good.” She flicked her eyes to mine and licked her plump lips. Damn, this woman was a vixen.

  Matt slammed my shot down in front of me, pulling my attention away from Marla. “Drink,” he demanded.

  “Thanks, man,” I said.

  Matt clinked his glass to mine and then Marla joined in.

  “To the good times resting at the bottom of our glasses,” Marla said. Her eyes shifted to mine and her teeth scraped against her bottom lip. “And then some.”

  Putting the shot glass to my lips, I tipped my head back and swallowed the burning liquid inside.

  Matt slammed his empty glass on the bar and smacked his hands down beside it. “Damn, that definitely wasn’t a pussy shot.”

  Marla stood and sashayed across the room.

  Matt took the seat she’d been sitting in beside me. “She is one fine piece of ass.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. There was a fine line here I was treading on. I didn’t know if they were an item or not and I didn’t want to cause any drama. “So, you two together now?” I asked, hoping it didn’t sound like I was interested.

  I wasn’t. Not really.

  Matt chuckled. “Nah, you know how Marla is. She’ll never be any guy’s girl. She wants what she wants and that’s all there is to it.”

  It was true. Very true.

  “Why, you interested in her again?” Matt asked with a shit-eating grin. “Wanna show her all that you’ve learned over the years?”

  I shook my head. “No, just curious.”

  “Right,” he laughed like he didn’t believe me.

  “You ready for another?” I asked, just to change the subject.

  “You buyin’?”

  “Yup.”

  “Then hell yeah I’m ready,” Matt said.

  After our third shot of Jack each, Marla finally made her way back over. She sat down in my lap and handed her phone to Matt. I placed a hand on her hip and one on her thigh. She wiggled and adjusted my hands, putting one under her knee and the other cupping her ass.

  “I want a picture of Jason and me, will you take one for me?” she asked Matt.

  Matt didn’t say no. He stood in front of us and held the phone up. “Say cheese.”

  Marla wrapped one arm around my neck, kicked one leg out, and forced me to look at her with her other hand. Then she kissed me. The flash from her phone went off more than once as the kiss continued.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  BLAIRE

  Someone hurling in the bathroom down the hall was what I woke to. The sun was up, blaring through the wooden slats of my blinds, harsh and unsympathetic to my situation. Hearing the distinctive splat followed by groaning, I slipped out of bed and headed in that direction. My head was killing me, pounding in sync with my heartbeat. My throat was dry and scratchy.

  Knocking lightly on the bathroom door, because my head wouldn’t tolerate anything too loud at the moment, I waited for whoever was inside to respond.

  “Ugh, just a minute,” Paige grumbled.

  “Are you okay?” I asked. Opening the door, now that I knew who was inside, I moved across the room to sit on the edge of the tub. I didn’t think my legs could support me for much longer.

  Paige pulled the toilet lid down and extended her arm so she could lay on it across the top. She was still wearing the clothes she’d worn last night. Her hair was twisted up into a messy bun and the fine hairs along the nape of her neck were drenched with sweat.

  “No, I’m not okay. I’ve been puking my guts out for hours now,” she moaned. “I had way too much to drink last night.”

  “Me too,” I muttered, thankful I hadn’t had enough to throw up.

  “God, I just wish I could stop. I’m so tired and I really don’t want Craig to see me this way.”

  Craig. I’d forgotten about him; he’d stayed the night. I wondered if they’d done anything last night. I might think he was an arrogant ass, but it didn’t stop me from wanting the details of my best friend’s love life.

  “I’m sure he’ll understand,” I said, trying to reassure her. “He’s probably been in the same position before.”

  “Still, it’s like our first hangout date and here I am, puking because I couldn’t handle my shit. Real sexy…”

  A slight muffled sound came from her and I realized, after a moment of talking to myself, that she’d passed out against the toilet.

&n
bsp; Smiling at the situation, I fought the temptation to run to my room and grab my phone so I could document her at such an inapt time—like I was positive she would do if the shoe were on the other foot—and made my way to the kitchen instead. If I wanted this headache to go away then I needed some aspirin and orange juice, maybe even a piece of toast. Lauren was still zonked out on the couch. She hadn’t wanted to drive home last night, which I thought was smart, considering how many Lemon Drops we’d pounded back. Images of the previous night invaded my mind, causing me to laugh out loud at the way we’d all behaved. I hadn’t let loose like that in a long time.

  Lauren had given some guy named Jimmy Moon her number. Paige had danced like a stripper and Craig was her pole. And I’d danced with some guy I didn’t know, who oddly enough looked similar to Jason. The night had been eventful, to say the least.

  Grabbing a cup from in the cabinet, I poured myself a tall glass of orange juice. Lauren stirred on the couch and I froze, hoping I didn’t wake her.

  “Oh my God, I got hammered last night,” she said suddenly. “Please tell Paige to never get us a D.D. again.”

  I laughed. Most of the time if we went out either Lauren or I was the D.D. for the night. Paige had a license and a car, but she rarely ever drove anywhere. If we were going out, she preferred to drink without worry.

  “I know how you feel,” I said. “Want some aspirin?”

  “Honey, I don’t even think aspirin would touch what’s going on inside my head right now.”

  “Orange juice?” I asked.

  Lauren sat up. Her blondish hair was a mess. I grabbed the aspirin bottle from the cabinet beside the sink and poured one in my hand.

  “Is Paige all right? She was wasted last night,” Lauren asked.

  I shook my head. “No, she’s passed out against the toilet.”

  Lauren laughed. “I figured she would be. Did you see the way she was dancing?”

  “I know, complete stripper. Craig seemed to like it though.”

  “I did,” Craig said. He stood in the hallway. I hadn’t even known he was awake. “She has some nice moves.”

  Lauren smirked at him. “You should see her dace when she’s sober. The girl could give strippers a run for their money.”

  “Really?” Craig’s eyes lit up.

  Lauren nodded. “Yeah, I should know… She learned everything from me.”

  Grabbing a slice of bread from the bag on the counter, I popped it into the toaster and cast a quick glance at Craig. He seemed to be lost in his thoughts. I wondered if they were of Lauren dancing or of Paige.

  Craig’s eyes shifted to mine. “Should I leave some water or something by Paige before I leave? I’ve got someplace I need to be in a bit.”

  “Umm, water, I guess, and maybe an aspirin,” I said.

  “Got it.” He winked, then came around the counter to where I stood and took the little bottle. “Where are your cups?”

  I pointed him in the right direction. “There.”

  “Thanks,” he said.

  I watched him as he got down a glass and filled it with tap water for Paige. He was cute. I could see what Paige saw in him. He had dirty-blond hair, brown eyes, and a dimple in the center of his chin. He didn’t have massive muscles, but he wasn’t pudgy or a wimp either. He was somewhere in between.

  Lauren poured herself a glass of orange juice around the two of us. My kitchen was too small for this many people crammed in here all at once. We were practically rubbing elbows.

  “I’ll set this in there with her and then I gotta go,” Craig said. He darted down the hall.

  “Wonder where he has to be so quick-like?” Lauren asked. She’d read my mind, because I’d been thinking the exact same thing.

  “I don’t know, seems to be pretty important. He’s said he has to go more than once,” I said.

  “Paige will be pissed when she wakes up. She’ll think he thought she was disgusting or something,” Lauren muttered.

  “I know.” I frowned. I’d have some explaining to do when she woke. She’d grill me for hours, I was sure.

  * * * *

  I laid around for most of the day, watching movies and eating junk food with Paige and Lauren. I’d dozed off a few times, catching up on the sleep I’d missed the previous night. When six o’clock rolled around I was already starting to spazz out some. It had been a while since I’d been on a date. I always seemed to find the weirdoes and the sketchy ones, never the Prince Charming type. Sometimes I wondered if that type even existed. Maybe those guys were just a product of books and movies created by women who fantasized about how they really wished the men in their life were.

  When I thought back to my childhood and remembered my parents’ relationship firsthand, the qualities of Prince Charming weren’t present at all. Dad never once remembered an anniversary on his own. He only remembered Mom’s birthday and to get her a Christmas present because of Bonnie and me. He hardly ever cooked or cleaned. In fact, I don’t think at any point in my childhood did I ever see him even switch out a load of laundry.

  And then there was Bonnie’s relationship with Brice—no Prince Charming there either. He never appreciated the things she did for him. That was one of the major complaints she always seemed to have—that and the fact that he didn’t spend as much quality time with Tinley as she would like to see.

  Men. They sucked. So why was I spazzing about a date with Jason? I knew this wouldn’t go anywhere. I also knew he was probably cool as a cucumber about the entire thing tonight. There was no promise for a long-term relationship. He lived in Tennessee. Why he was here I didn’t know, but I didn’t think his stay would be permanent.

  Pulling the yellow dress I’d bought from my closet, I draped it over the edge of my bed and turned to rummage through my jewelry for something to set the dress off. Even if Jason wasn’t my Prince Charming…I still wanted to wow him.

  Holding a pair of pearl earrings up to the dress, I smiled. Those would look classic paired with it, and my wedge sandals would be the fun and hip addition to the outfit.

  “No, no pearls,” Lauren said. She stood leaning against the doorframe of my room. I hadn’t even heard her walk up. “You don’t want to look like Betty Crocker, you wanna look flirty and fun. Trust me.”

  “Betty Crocker? Pearls are not Betty Crocker,” I argued.

  Glancing at the combo again, I realized Lauren might be right.

  “He’s meeting you at a bar, not a bake sale. And you want to fuck him, not marry him.” Lauren crossed the room and began to riffle through my jewelry box atop my dresser.

  My cheeks heated at her words. “Jesus, don’t beat around the bush.”

  She glanced at me with a wicked grin. “What? You know it’s true. You didn’t agree to go out with him to talk and get to know one another… You agreed because you want what’s in his pants and you know it. I’ve seen him, Blaire, the guy is the definition of eye candy. If you thought about anything else other than what he’d be like in bed when you looked at him then you’d have problems.”

  I laughed. “Wow, sometimes I forget how blunt you can be.”

  “Okay, so you’re going for sex vixen, not schoolteacher. Although some guys are into that, I don’t think that’s what he wants on a first date.” She pulled out a pair of turquoise dangly earrings I’d bought last year at the flea market. “You need some flirty colors paired with that classic dress. He won’t think you’re a sleaze, but he won’t think you’re a prude either.”

  My stomach knotted. What had I gotten myself into with this date thing?

  “I’m not going to give it up on the first date,” I said. “I’m just going to have a couple of drinks with him, talk for a bit, and then head home.”

  “No, you’re not,” Lauren insisted. She locked eyes with me. “You’re going to get you some of that, because Lord knows if he was interested in me I would, and get over this rut you’ve been in. A nice healthy dose of meaningless sex is just what you need.”

  Meaningle
ss sex? I didn’t do meaningless sex.

  “I don’t know about that.” I dropped my eyes back to the dress spread out on my bed.

  “Then lead him on…and then drop him at the end of the night. Either way, have a little fun.” Lauren winked.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  JASON

  At six thirty I decided maybe I should have offered to pick Blaire up. I sent her a Facebook message, because I didn’t have her number, and wondered if she would even get it in time. Stepping into the shower to wash away the cheap bar stench of Blue’s from last night and the sweat from working at Gramps’ house all afternoon, I thought about the simple fact that I was meeting with Blaire tonight. I’d looked forward to this little date thing of ours for over a week now.

  Last night had been fun. Marla had been awesome to hang around. Matt had been a blast, same as he used to be. And then when they’d snuck off together after an hour or so of drinks and dancing, I’d caught a ride home with a guy I used to play football with. I’d gotten home at a decent enough hour; since it wasn’t my house and I didn’t want to be disrespectful to my mom by coming and going at all hours of the night, I’d set the curfew of one AM for myself recently. That seemed reasonable and it was two hours past the curfew she’d given me in high school, so it still made me feel like an adult.

  I hated the fact that I would practically be living here for the summer while I got all of the shit fixed at Gramps’ house. If there had been furniture still there and I knew it wouldn’t upset my mom, I’d simply stay there.

  After towel drying myself off, I slipped on the outfit that I’d acted like a damn girl about picking out and glanced at myself in the mirror. Fuck. I needed to shave. I had a serious five o’clock shadow going on and my Phillips shaver was at the apartment. Damn it. Maybe Blaire was into the whole scruffy look; I could only hope.

  * * * *

  I’d checked Facebook a million times in an hour. Seriously, it had to be some sort of a record. Blaire had responded to my message with a standard yes and directions. That was all I got. I wasn’t sure what I’d hoped for, but that had not been it.

  Driving to her place, I found myself wondering how tonight would pan out. Everything I imagined I was sure would never happen. In fact, my fantasies were just a reminder that I really needed to get laid. It had been way too damn long.