Break You

by Jennifer Snyder

  “Step Brothers first and then Zombieland,” I said.

  We were staying in for the night and instead of watching chick-flick romantic comedies like the three of us loved, we’d decided to forgo anything with sappiness or romance as the main plot.

  “Even though this movie is about guys who could be my dad acting like freaking teenagers, it’s still hilarious!” Paige said.

  I got up to make some popcorn before the movie started—nachos weren’t doing it for me.

  “I know, right?” Lauren laughed. “Cracks me up every time!”

  After putting the popcorn into the microwave, I walked over to where my phone was charging. I didn’t know why I cared to check the damn thing and see if Jason had sent me a text. I knew he hadn’t, because I hadn’t heard the thing go off. Also, we’d still never exchanged numbers. So, even if he wanted to call me or text, he couldn’t.

  “Put the phone down,” Lauren shouted at me in a fake police tone. “Step away slowly.”

  “I was just checking to see if it was fully charged yet,” I lied.

  “Doesn’t matter. We’re about to get our laugh on, you don’t need your phone for nothing right now,” Lauren insisted.

  “She’s right. Take a mental break with us,” Paige insisted. The microwave beeped. “Your popcorn is done; get your butt over here. The movie is starting.”

  I rolled my eyes and let go of my phone. I’d have to check my Facebook later to see if Jason had tried to contact me there. Or maybe I’d leave him my number finally, that way when/if he wanted to call or text he could. Grabbing the bag of popcorn from the microwave, I headed back to my spot on the couch. Halfway through the movie my phone went off. I jumped up to answer it while Paige paused the movie. My sister’s name and number lit up my screen.

  “Hey, what’s up?” I asked. My voice was controlled and normal. It had to be when I talked with her or else she’d know something was wrong.

  Bonnie sighed into the phone. “Hey. Nothing. I know it’s late to be calling, but I really need a favor from you.”

  I glanced at the clock on the microwave. It was only a little after nine. “Okay.”

  “You know that summer festival in town they always have?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, it’s coming up soon. Brice was supposed to watch Tinley for me, but now he’s saying he’s going to go golfing with some guys from work that weekend instead. Mom can’t watch her. She’s got something with those ladies in that book club she’s part of going on the same day and I don’t have anyone else. Are you doing anything?”

  “You signed up to get a table at the town festival?”

  “Yeah,” she said. There was pride in her voice.

  I loved that she was branching out, regardless if she didn’t have her husband’s full support. My sister was so strong. “Sure, I can watch her for you.”

  “Oh my God, Blaire, you’re a lifesaver. Seriously,” Bonnie gushed. “Thank you so much.”

  “No problem.” I popped another piece of popcorn in my mouth. “What is Brice’s problem? I really hope you set him straight.”

  “I did.” She sighed. “We’ve been having it out all day. Honestly I’m hoping he realizes how much this means to me and decides to forgo the stupid golfing trip. If so then you’re off the hook, but I needed a backup plan.”

  “Well, I’ll do it if he doesn’t. Maybe it’s time you make him though.” My blood was boiling. I hated how he treated her sometimes. He could be such an ass.

  “Blaire, it’s not that simple. Maybe if you were in a relationship with kids you’d understand,” she insisted.

  I bit my lip. It took everything I had to not tell her I was pregnant. “Maybe.”

  “Listen, I have to go. Tinley was supposed to be in bed an hour ago, but Brice gave her chocolate ice cream and now she’s bouncing off the freaking walls.”

  I laughed. “Give her a kiss for me. I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”

  “Love you too. Bye.”

  “Bye.” I clicked “end call” and unplugged my phone from its charger.

  “What was that about?” Paige asked.

  “Nothing much. I’m watching Tinley for a Saturday while Bonnie does her table in the summer festival, because Brice decided golfing was more important than supporting his wife.” I walked back to where I’d been sitting and kicked my feet up on the coffee table.

  “I have yet to meet Brice, but from what I’ve heard of him, he sounds like an ass,” Lauren said. Her words were laced with disgust.

  “Yeah, you’re not missing much,” Paige muttered.

  “He’s just selfish and he doesn’t treat my sister the way he should sometimes,” I said.

  “If you and Jason get married and raise this kid together, you’d better make sure you train him right and don’t let him get away with selfish shit like that,” Lauren insisted.

  Images of Bonnie and Brice’s relationship flashed through my mind. Dear God, I hoped we wouldn’t end up being like them. I crammed a handful of popcorn in my mouth as Paige unpaused the movie.

  No, there was no way Jason and I would end up like that if we chose to raise this baby together. No way.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  JASON

  It was Sunday night. My hangover from fishbowl margaritas last night was long gone and even though I’d sworn to myself when I’d woken up this morning I wouldn’t drink for a few days, I found myself craving an ice-cold beer. I’d spent my day puttering around Gramps’ house, making shit up to do. I hadn’t wanted to be around anyone all day. There was peace in solitude. Some might say I’d been brooding all day, and those people might be right, but I didn’t like to think of it that way. I was merely trying to decide what my next step in life should be now.

  I was going to be a freaking dad.

  The realization of what I needed to do sank in with heavy force. Now all I needed to figure out was how to tell Blaire what I wanted without sounding like a dickhead or like I felt forced into being with her because of the baby. I’d pondered all the possible angles all day until I was one-hundred percent sober and hangover free.

  I imagined tone would be the first place to start. I needed to make sure my tone when talking with her was normal. Blaire wasn’t the type to be sugarcoated or sweet-talked into believing things. Then I’d have to focus on the words I chose to say. There could be no space left in the conversation for her to doubt that I wanted to do the right thing on my own accord. She couldn’t think that, because of the circumstances, I felt forced into being with her. I needed to make her believe the truth—that I’d wanted to be with her before all of this.

  Running my fingers through my hair, I looked out at the lake in my grandfather’s backyard. This was the most peaceful place to think. All I could see was lush grass, tall cattails, trees, and water. There was no loud music or people screaming at each other like at my apartment.

  I would hate to see this place go when it finally sold.

  My cell rang. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen, knowing it wouldn’t be who I wanted to talk to—it wouldn’t be Blaire. She was pregnant with my freaking kid and I still didn’t have her number. That was wrong on so many levels. Matt’s name and number was what I saw instead.

  “What’s up?” I answered.

  “Where have you been this weekend? I thought you said you were in town, dude?”

  “I am.” I ran my hand over my face and extended my legs out, crossing them at the ankles. “I’ve just been busy.”

  “You busy now?” he asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Where are you? Me and Marla will come get you. You’re coming drinking with us, again.”

  I grinned into the phone. “Oh really?”

  “Hell yeah. Come on.”

  “All right.” I chuckled at his enthusiasm. “I’m at my Gramps’ house. Swing by there.”

  “See you in a few,” Matt said. He hung up before I could respond.

  Cradling my phone b
etween my palms, I hunched over and rested my elbows against my knees. Partying with Matt and Marla would definitely give me a moment to escape again. Bonus, I wouldn’t be drinking and driving myself home this time. Marla would be the D.D., I was sure. Tomorrow I would be able to think hard and chase my hangover away again while deciding the things I needed to say to put Blaire at ease and allow me to be where I was supposed to be—by her side through all of this.

  * * * *

  My hands slid around my fourth beer and I leaned back against the bar, feeling the counter dig into my back and press against my spine in an uncomfortable way. I didn’t move though. The fact I was sitting here, enjoying myself with a beer in my hand and Marla making bedroom eyes at me, seemed wrong in more ways than one. I should be fixing things with Blaire, we should be figuring out what we wanted to do next.

  “You look like you have a shit-load on your mind, sugar,” Marla said. She twirled the skinny straw in her soda with her fingertips. “Is there anything I could be doing to take your mind off things?”

  I didn’t miss the innuendo present in her words. It rang out loud and clear. “After another one of these I’ll be just fine,” I assured her, raising my beer.

  Marla slid her stool closer to mine and crossed her mile-long legs slowly, drawing my attention to them. I glanced over at Matt; he was talking with some girl who had a sash around her that said 21st Fucking Birthday. Obviously he and Marla were not an item tonight. Had it been her idea to ask what I was doing for the night? Was this a setup? If so, I wasn’t interested. In fact, it couldn’t have been worse timing—now I was going to have to reject Marla, and I already knew from previous experience with her that it wouldn’t end well when I did.

  “Take another picture with me,” she demanded suddenly. It was the most random thing to come from her lips tonight.

  I shook my head and took a long swig of my beer. “Nah, not right now.”

  “Please?” Her bottom lip poked out just like it always used to when I’d ever attempted to deny her anything.

  It made me grin. “Put that thing away. It doesn’t work on me anymore.”

  Her eyes widened as though I’d just given her a challenge she gladly accepted. “Mark my words, Jason Bryant, by the end of this night, you’ll do whatever I say when my bottom lip comes out to beg.”

  I stared at her. Her signature red lips had twisted themselves into a perfect little bow of a smile. “We’ll see about that…sugar,” I countered, mimicking her.

  Marla raised her cup and toasted to me, confirming what I’d thought seconds before. The challenge had been accepted by her and I knew I was in for it now. She stood and strutted over to the neon glowing jukebox. Her ass poked out as she bent over to flip through the songs, like she didn’t already know the numbers to push for the one she wanted to hear. Marla was at Blue’s nearly every night; she was what some guys referred to as a Bar Whore. She knew which buttons on that jukebox played what. It had been long ago etched into her memory.

  I pulled my eyes from her long, tanned legs and glanced around the bar at all the assholes salivating at the mouth while staring at her. She was a sexy little thing, I had to give her credit there, but she wasn’t for me. Not anymore.

  Matt walked to the stool beside me and sat. He called to the bartender and ordered five shots of tequila. “Shh, I’m buying a round for you, me, and those three beauties sitting over there.” He pointed to where he’d been standing, talking with the birthday girl and her two friends. “Don’t tell Marla I didn’t buy her one. Here, help me carry these over there.”

  He scooped up three shots between his fingers and nodded to the two left. Marla sauntered over to us as the song she’d chosen—Pony by Ginuwine—began to blast through the bar. There were some hoots and hollers after her, along with some foul-mouthed catcalls. If any other girl in this place had decided to play that song in particular, they would have been booed at. But not Marla. Every guy in here was waiting for her to dance to it.

  “One of those bad boys for me?” she asked. Her hip cocked to the side as she stopped in front of me and flashed me a flirty smile.

  Damn, she looked good.

  I licked my lips as I met her stare. A jolt of excitement surged through my body, congregating in my pants, from the smoldering look swirling within those blue eyes of hers. She really knew how to get exactly what she wanted from a guy.

  “Nope,” Matt said. He nudged my arm. “Come on, man. They’re waiting.”

  I scooped up the remaining shot glasses and followed Matt, glad to be away from Marla. We had no sooner set the glasses down in the center of the table and Matt had introduced me, when Marla came over with a shot glass of something of her own. She threw her arm over my shoulder with a large, friendly smile plastered on her face.

  “Hey, happy twenty-first!” she shouted. “Let’s toast!” Her arm left my shoulder to wrap around my waist and pull me up against her. Matt shot her an annoyed look and I just stood there. What the hell was she doing?

  “Raise ’em up, ladies!” Matt shouted. His face was red from all the alcohol he had already consumed, but he was willing to drink more if it meant he could sleep with the birthday girl. “Let’s toast to turning twenty-one! It only happens once in a person’s life, so you’d better make the best of it tonight, princess!”

  We all raised our shot glasses and toasted to that. Whistles and shouts rang out from the girls and Matt. Marla pulled her cell from her pocket and tapped the girl nearest to her on the shoulder.

  “Can you take a few pictures of me and my boyfriend?” she asked in that super-sweet tone of hers.

  It hit me then—Marla meant pictures with me. She was practically branding me as hers in front of these girls. “Marla, I don’t think—” I started, but she cut me off.

  “Come on, sugar. Please?” She poked out that damn bottom lip of hers and I felt put on the spot.

  “Aww, you two are so stinkin’ cute!” the girl holding Marla’s phone shouted over the music. “You look made for each other.”

  “Thanks.” Marla grinned. She maneuvered herself to where she was pressed up against me even more and wrapped my arms around her. That was picture one. Picture two was steamy and reeked heavily of seduction. “Keep taking pictures,” Marla instructed the girl.

  She spun around to face me and pressed her ruby red lips directly to mine. My hands were oddly wrapped around her at the time and she adjusted them until they rested on her ass while she continued to kiss me.

  I took a step back, the sound of the camera on her phone still clicking away. “Marla, look… I can’t… It’s…” I couldn’t even finish a damn sentence I was so shocked.

  “Aww, he’s shy! How sweet!” the girl with the phone laughed at me.

  A hum of laughter burst from all the girls at the table, including Marla, and I couldn’t breathe. I shouldn’t be here. This wasn’t right. I’d fucked up with Blaire and I needed to figure out how to fix it. I couldn’t do that here. Not like this.

  I did the only thing I knew to do—I called my mom in the middle of the night and had her come pick me up like a fucking loser.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  BLAIRE

  The first thing I did when I woke up on Monday morning was check my Facebook. If Paige and Lauren knew how many times throughout our girl night I’d checked to see if Jason had messaged me, they would have been pissed. I couldn’t help it though. At this point it had become a sickness. I needed to know the second he chose to say something to me, if ever.

  No message bubble from him came up when Facebook opened. Heaviness entered my body at the same time my heart felt as though it shrunk to the size of a pea in my chest. Was he ever going to talk to me? Did he even care? Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.

  Scrolling through my news feed, I glanced halfheartedly at everyone’s new updates and pictures of crazy things they’d done over the weekend. A set of pictures caught my attention and brought my heart to a standstill. They were pictures of Jason and
Marla. New pictures. Ones taken last night, apparently; at least. that’s what Marla’s tag said. In them she was dressed like the She-Devil from hell that she was and Jason looked plastered. The first picture was of them kissing chastely, his hands wrapped around her. The second was of her hands sliding up to grip his as they continued to kiss. And the third was of them continuing that endless kiss with his hands cupping her ass.

  While I had been worrying myself sick and attempting to let my best friends cheer me up, he’d been out partying at the bar with Marla. Again.

  My heart pounded so loudly that it roared in my ears. How could he? Obviously he didn’t give two shits about me or this baby he’d helped create. Time seemed to stand still as I mulled this over repeatedly. I’d closed out my Facebook, but the images were still engraved in my mind. Each time my eyes closed the pictures flashed in vivid clarity.

  Forcing myself out of bed, I grabbed the scrubs and underwear I’d set out the night before, and headed to my bathroom for a long hot shower before I had to be to work. When I was finished, I made my way to the kitchen to make myself a bagel with cream cheese. Lauren was up, standing in the kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee, but Paige was still asleep. Knowing her, she’d be asleep for a while.

  “Hey,” Lauren said over the rim of her cup. “How are you feeling this morning?”

  “Fine, I guess.” I went to the fridge and searched for the bagels.

  “Don’t lie. You look like shit.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “Gee, don’t sugarcoat it any, please.”

  “You know me well enough by now to know that I don’t do the whole sugarcoating thing.” She smirked. “But seriously, you don’t look like you slept well last night, and considering I was the one who slept on the couch, I find that sort of ironic.”

  “I have a lot on my mind lately.” My voice cracked. The tears I thought the shower had washed away pooled in my eyes once more. I shook my head, hoping to shake them away before they fell. “A lot.”

  Images of Marla and Jason crept back into my head. How was my first child going to be born into a nonexistent relationship like this? How had I let this happen? I’d been so stupid.

  Exhaling, I popped the bagel in the toaster and grabbed a paper towel. Lauren moved to stand beside me. She pulled me into her arms and hugged me.