A Fresh Start

by Lexi Bissen

  As much as I would love to sit here and listen to drunk Allen go on some more, I figure it’s time to call it a night. When he drinks this much, he usually crashes hard soon after and I don’t want to deal with hauling his ass into his house.

  While Allen stands outside the truck having the typical ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ talk with Anna, I look over to Gibson. Just seeing him makes me want to forget about getting Allen home and go back to what we were doing less than five minutes ago.

  I shake my head and focus on the task at hand. “We might want to head out. I have a feeling we won’t have a coherent Allen soon.”

  Gibson stares at me, a frown forming as he nods his head and gets out of the truck. By his face and silence, I’m wondering if he regrets the kiss. I hope he doesn’t. That was the best kiss I’ve ever had, not that I’ve had many, but maybe he didn’t feel the same way. Although, the way he kissed me could say otherwise.

  He makes his way around the hood to Allen. “Gibby! Where have you been, my man? You and Itty-Bitty disappeared on me earlier.” Gibson shoots me a quick look and then gets back to helping Allen into the backseat. “You know, Gibby, since I am now among the many who have kissed the female gender, I’m really wondering what you people are so fond about. It wasn’t anything special.” Allen turns to a beet red Anna. “It wasn’t you, honey, I just prefer someone with a little less…boobies.”

  Gibson cracks the first smile since Allen interrupted us. “You just have to find the right person to do it with.” He looks to me again and his smile disappears. Was I not the right person to do it with?

  After Gibson gets Allen situated in the backseat, I say goodbye to Anna and make plans to see her next time she’s in town. I miss having her around. She was one of the few girls in this town I actually liked. I hate what Sean did to her.

  Standing by the driver’s side listening to Allen sing his new version of I Kissed a Girl, I watch Anna walk away. Gibson comes up behind me, holding the keys in his hand. “Go hop in on the other side. I’m still driving.”

  I turn around and find Gibson staring, studying me, but quickly he turns to open the driver’s side door and gets in. What happened to the guy who told me all about his sad story in the car? The same guy who took charge and kissed me? Now he looks bored with having me around. I don’t like it and I want to know what changed. “Are you all right?” I ask him.

  He doesn’t look me in the eye. “Fine. I’m just tired and want to head out. You ready?”

  Maybe it’s from the drinks I had or the whiplash he’s giving me, but I’m suddenly feeling exhausted. Without saying a word, I head to the passenger side and get into the front seat. Gibson gets in and starts the truck up while the two of us ignore one another. I have no clue what happened in the last fifteen minutes, but he better expect that I’m going to want answers.

  Ronnie’s silence lets me know she’s pissed, and I don’t blame her. Having a guy kiss you and then act indifferent is a shitty thing, but I didn’t know how to act. I always thought if you’ve kissed one girl, you’ve kissed them all, but that was before I kissed Ronnie. Everything about her was different. The way her lips felt against mine, the way she surrendered to me and then took some control back. And that little spark I felt the first moment our lips touched. All of it was better than any kiss I’ve ever had with another girl. Kissing someone you actually like makes it that much better.

  That’s what scared me. Feeling this way about a girl I’ve only kissed, one I didn’t even know a month ago. Liking Ronnie was okay, but feeling connected to her is a whole other story. I feel cut open after telling her about my past. She’s the only person, besides River, who knows all about me now. Telling her about where I came from and how I grew up was a big step for me and I’m nervous about what she thinks. What if she now looks at me like I’m trash? The son of a crackhead mother and absent father. Ronnie’s a good girl, she knows better than to hang around a guy like me, and I just gave her every reason not to.

  We ride to Allen’s house in silence. He’s passed out in the backseat and Ronnie is staring out the window, probably regretting our kiss. I’m surprised she let me kiss her in the first place after everything I told her.

  I pull into Allen’s driveway and notice all the lights are off and there isn’t a car parked in front like usual. His mom must still be gone. I get out and open the backseat door to find Allen’s six-two frame spread out along the bench. Ronnie comes up beside me and sighs. “He’s never going to wake up now. I had to call Sean and Rodger last time this happened. Usually I’ll get him home in enough time for him to make it to the couch or his bed on his own.”

  I don’t like the idea of her having to call Sean and Rodger. I lift at the gym; I can carry a guy my size into his house. “I can get him,” I tell her, but I’m really wondering how I’m going to carry a guy who’s my size and out cold.

  Ronnie begins biting her lips and glancing between Allen and me. “Are you sure? It took both of them last time this happened. I don’t want you to drop him or anything.”

  I start to pull Allen’s legs to get half his body out of the truck. It’ll be easier to get him over my shoulder that way. “You don’t think I can lift him or something? I do hit the gym, even though it’s been awhile.” Ronnie laughs, and it’s good to see the mood lightened. “Oh, I believe you hit the gym. I’m saying it might be a little difficult to carry Allen’s dead weight.”

  I wave my hand at her. “I’ve got this,” I say as I lift Allen onto my shoulder. The moment I get him secured, I’m rethinking this decision. He’s fucking heavy. I’ve never had to carry a drunk person before. I was always the one who got carried and now I’m feeling bad for my friends.

  “Go ahead of me and get the door open,” I tell Ronnie, a little breathless.

  She jogs up to the door and unlocks it. Allen begins to move around and then a set of hands land right on my ass. “Gibby, is this your booty in front of me? Why is everything upside down?” He drops his hands and falls back to sleep. He does get a good laugh out of Ronnie and me, though.

  After entering the living room, I get Allen to the couch as fast as I can. There’s no way in hell I’m climbing those stairs with this guy on my back. I try to get him on the couch without dropping him, but the fucker is heavy and he just sort of…falls. I check to make sure he’s still asleep before lifting his legs and making sure he’s secure on the couch. He should be out for the night.

  The door closes behind me and I turn around to see Ronnie standing by it. She looks tired. It is late and she’s been drinking. “Are you staying here tonight?” I ask her.

  She nods and walks into the living room toward the couch. Grabbing two blankets off it, Ronnie walks over to Allen and lays one over him. She then turns back to me and hands me the other one in her hand. “So are you. You don’t have a ride home and your place is too far of a walk. I’m sleeping in Allen’s bed, so you can take your pick between the couch and floor.”

  I never thought about how I would get home when I offered to drive. “Oh, okay. I guess I’ll take the couch.” Ronnie starts to head toward the stairs, but I want to clear the air about how I was acting after we kissed. “Hey…um, before you can we ta—”

  “I’m really tired. Maybe later. Goodnight.” Then she’s up the stairs.

  I’m guessing by her abrupt goodbye, she’s still upset about what happened earlier. I turn around and run my hands through my hair, tugging at the ends. Looking back to the top of the stairs, I want to go up there and explain everything to Ronnie. I feel bad and want to assure her that it had nothing to do with the kiss—that was amazing. But how can I tell her that I have all these feelings and I’ve only known her a few short weeks?

  I go over to the couch opposite of a snoring Allen and lay there wide awake. What would Ronnie think of the criminal new guy liking her? River told me to wait for that one girl who stops me in my tracks and I found her. The only problem is, she is way too good for me.

  I decide to text Rive
r to see if he can give me some advice. He’s the only one I would think to talk about this with. There’s no judgment when it comes to him.

  Gibson: Hey man. U up?

  I lay my phone on my chest and stare up at the ceiling, waiting for his reply. It doesn’t take long before my phone buzzes.

  River: Just got done with a session. What’s up?

  River has been working at the tattoo shop we go to over the summer and apprenticing for Mick, the owner.

  Gibson: I know u won’t believe this, but it’s chick trouble.

  Seconds later, my phone rings.

  “Hello?” I answer.

  “If you tell me you’ve gotten a girl pregnant in the two weeks you’ve been there, I am coming to Alabama and kicking your ass personally,” River greets.

  “No, dick, I didn’t knock any girl up. I haven’t even slept with any of them yet.” I smack my hand against my forehead. I should have left out the “yet”.

  River lets out a sigh of relief. “Sorry I jumped to conclusions, it’s just when you say you have girl problems, that’s right where my head goes.” He pauses for a second. “What do you mean ‘yet’? I thought you weren’t going back to sleeping with anything with tits? What happened to getting on the right track and bettering yourself? Or waiting for that right girl? You can’t trust any of the ones who just throw themselves at you. They’re like dogs in heat looking for some guy to sink their teeth—”

  “River,” I say, interrupting him.

  “What?” he snaps. Maybe texting him was a bad idea.

  “I’ve found that girl,” I tell him.

  “What girl?” I roll my eyes.

  “What girl? The fucking girl you said would hit me like a ton of bricks when I meet her. I found her and she’s amazing.” I smile, thinking of our kiss today. Well, before I was a dumbass and it all went to shit.

  “Really? You met her that fast? I’m pretty shocked.” And he sounds it.

  River has always been a hopeless romantic. Growing up with just a mom could do that to you. Don’t get me wrong, the dude is tough and scary as shit. He’s covered in more tattoos than I am and he’s bulked up a lot from working out almost every day for the past few years.

  “Why would you be shocked? You found yours at sixteen.” I wince, briefly forgetting this was a sore subject for River.

  His silence makes me nervous and I’m worried he hung up. “Yeah, well, mine didn’t turn out so well. Maybe it wasn’t the right girl. I was only sixteen after all,” River replies.

  “Sorry, man. I didn’t mean to say anything about her,” I apologize, pinching the bridge of my nose with my fingers.

  “It’s okay. Now, tell me about her. What makes you think she’s the one?” he asks.

  “I’m not sure if ‘the one’ is the right word. It’s more that she stunned me. Her looks were the first thing. Ronnie is hot, man. Like drop dead gorgeous, but she doesn’t flaunt it, which is the best part. Plus, she’s funny as hell. So is her best friend, Allen. I’ve been hanging with the two of them since I got here and she’s awesome.”

  “So, you’ve actually gotten to know this girl?” River asks.

  “Ronnie drives Allen and me home after school. It’s not a lot of time, but any chance to talk to her is good with me.” More time would be better, but I don’t tell him.

  “All right, dude, you’re sounding a bit pussy whipped and you aren’t even with this girl.” River is laughing at me now, but he’s right. I shouldn’t be this hung up over a girl I don’t have…yet.

  “That’s actually one of the reasons why I called you. I need your help with some way to get Ronnie to go out with me or something,” I tell him.

  He stops laughing when he realizes I’m serious. “So, you really want to, I don’t know, date this girl? Not just add her to the long list of fucks?” I hate even thinking about Ronnie in that second category. She’s better than any of those other girls—better than me. After the shit she learned about my past earlier, I doubt she’d want to be around me anymore.

  There’s no thinking about it—I could see myself dating Ronnie. I wouldn’t say no to kissing her like I did earlier. “I want to ask her out on a date. The only problem is I’ve never done that. It’s why I called you. Do I have to buy her flowers or chocolates? She doesn’t seem like that kind of girl. And where do I bring her? There’s nothing in this sad excuse for a town. Plus, I can’t drive her anywhere.”

  “Gibson,” River yells, stopping my rambling.

  “What?” I snap.

  “You need to calm down. I’ve never seen you get so bent out of shape over something. It’s pretty entertaining.” He lets out a laugh and I’m five seconds away from hanging up on his useless ass. “I’d love to help you, Gib, but I haven’t dated much either. I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

  He might not have dated much, but his mom taught him right. “Just give me the advice your mom gave you. She was drilling it into your head how to treat a woman from the time you could talk.”

  “Isn’t that the truth,” he agrees. “Most of what she’s told me is basic manners and I’m hoping you have those down. All you have to do is find something she’s interested in, maybe ask her best friend, and ask her out in a respectable way. Once you’re on the date, just be normal and polite, but not over the top. I don’t know her, but from the little you’ve told me, she doesn’t sound like a flashy chick.”

  “Ronnie is pretty down to earth. Actually, she’s just like the country girls you hear about: blonde, tan, drives a beat up pick-up truck, wears the most basic clothes, and no make-up. She’s different from any girl I’ve met before. I like that about her…a lot.” Ronnie is a simple girl and I could use simple in my life.

  “Then it looks like you have your answer right there. Go modest when asking her. Don’t be flashy or draw attention. Oh, and I would still ask the friend. He could help with picking out a place for you to take her. As for the driving thing, just explain to her you don’t have a car there. I’m sure she’ll understand.” He’s right, Ronnie would understand, especially after I told her what happened before this summer.

  “I’ll make sure to talk to Allen about it tomorrow. Thanks, man. I really don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  “No problem. Let me know how it all works out. You know how much I love a happy ending,” he says, adding the bit of sarcasm at the end to bust my balls.

  “Yeah, shut it,” I say back. “Hey, before you go, when were you thinking about coming down for a visit? I could use a familiar face.”

  “I’m still shooting for Thanksgiving weekend. I don’t have any classes that week and it’s the slowest time for the shop. You sure your uncle is still okay with me staying?” he asks.

  “Yep. He said hell no to me at first when I talked about a friend coming to visit, but I explained you’re a different friend than the others.”

  “By different, do you mean the best? Because that’s what I think I am. For many reasons too, but I’ll add helping you get your girl to the list.” He’s so fucking cocky, but he’s right.

  “All right, dickhead, I’m off to sleep. I’ll text you later,” I say to him.

  Before I hang up, River yells, “Let me know how it works with country girl,” and then he’s gone.

  I look over at Allen spread out on the couch with his mouth wide open and laugh. I roll over onto my side and face the back of the couch. I start to drift off, but right before I fall asleep, I hear Allen whisper, “Jensen Ackles,” before letting out a moan. Someone must be having a good dream.

  I’ve been hit by a truck. Groaning, I cover my face with my hands and wipe the morning crust out of my eyes. I want nothing more than to throw myself out the window, or take a scolding hot shower. Every muscle in my body aches, making that shower sound really good right about now.

  Opening my eyes, I look to the alarm clock to check the time and notice a glass of water and a bottle of pain reliever that weren’t there last night. There’s a little
note scribbled in chicken scratch laying under the headache medicine container.

  Drink all the water and take two pills. You’ll need them.

  It takes me only a second to notice the handwriting since Allen writes in all caps and his mom has the typical nurse scribble. This is Gibson’s, which means he was kind enough to leave me medicine when he knew I would need it.

  I reach over to the table, grab the bottle of pain killers, drop two into my hand, then chug the entire glass of water with the medicine. The water helps with my cotton mouth, courtesy of drinking last night, and I know the medicine will work wonders soon.

  I hoist myself up and swing my legs over the side. Sitting there, I listen for some sign that someone is up. The downstairs TV is on and hope it’s only Allen.

  Once I get my butt into gear, I make my way downstairs, finding a very hung-over Allen sitting on the couch in his sleep pants. He looks like he’s seen better days. When he hears me come into the room, he lifts his head and lets out a large huff before laying back down on the pillow.

  “Oh gosh, Itty-Bitty. I think I’m dying. I’m for real this time. Everything hurts and it just won’t stop. I think you need to take me to the emergency room.” He always has a horrible hangover and swears he’ll never drink again…that is, until the next party.

  “You do not need to go to the ER. You are just hung-over like the last time you drank. Don’t be a baby.” I walk over to the other side of the couch and snuggle under the blanket covering him. “Have you taken anything for your dying headache?” I ask, rolling my eyes.

  Allen lays his arm over his forehead. “Yes. Gibby the Great forced me to take pain relievers and drink this horrid concoction he made. It was the worst thing I’ve ever tasted.” Allen shudders beside me.

  Talking about Gibson has me looking around for him. The couch I’m assuming he slept on last night is empty except for a neatly folded blanket on one of the cushions. I wonder if he’s still here. He has to be, he doesn’t have a car to get home with…unless he walked. I hope he didn’t have to walk home because I drank last night.