Actually, I don’t know. Now the image of Josh going down on me is stuck on replay.
“Oh, sorry. Anyway, I’m a little confused by it, because I probably shouldn’t be...um, entertaining this idea being who he is and all.” she nibbles on her thumbnail nervously.
M’Kay. So, who is it?
“Who is it?” I ask.
“Brandt,” she throws herself back on my bed dramatically.
“What the fudge? Brandt as in Beau’s brother, Brandt?”
She nods her head looking ever bobble head like.
“Oh my God. Oh, wow! I mean...I just don’t know what to say to that.” I tell her.
“Yeah, I know. Me neither. At first I thought I was just drawn to his eyes because they remind me so much of Beau’s, but then...well, I realized it’s more than that. I like him. Like I think about him, and not about Beau, so that mean’s something, right?”
She asks me like she wants me to convince her of it. I mean...I just don’t know what to say. “I don’t know. What would Beau think about it?”
“Actually, he’s okay with it. Beau proposed to Kristen, and they are having an engagement party tonight. Well, Brandt is throwing a party, so probably not a typical kind of engagement party. Brandt invited you and me. You have to come with me, because even though I know Beau is okay with it, I’m not sure I completely am yet. Ya know?”
“Oh, wow. Um, okay. Yeah, I will go with you. I wonder if Josh is going too?”
She shrugs, “Text him,” She suggests.
“M’Kay” I send a text to Josh.
Me: GOING TO A PARTY AT BRANDT’S *HAPPY DANCE* WANNA COME WITH ME?
Emily is in my closet picking out my outfit for me. Evidently, I can’t dress myself. After about ten minutes of no response from Josh, I get a weird feeling in my stomach, and I don’t know why. He always responds right away.
“He didn’t answer,” I tell Emily. Something feel’s off.
“Don’t worry, Riley. I can see the wheels turning in your head. Not every guy is a douche like Dean, and not every guy is a cheater like your dad. Stop comparing all their shitty behavior with Josh. He’s probably doing something or doesn’t have his phone. It could be any number of reasons.” She tells me and hands me an outfit to put on. “Here put this on.”
It’s black knit (very short) shorts, a white top that sits right above my navel, with a black heart in the center. Very suiting, I thought, and that pit in my stomach grew wider.
I put on my black combat boots, the ones Josh loves. I strap on leather studded wrist bangles and put on my silver hoop earrings and diamond studs in my second hole. I comb through my dark brown wavy hair that is now streaked with dark blue, and decide it looks like a frizzy mess, so I put it into a messy bun on top of my head. I am naturally tanned and don’t need much makeup, so I just add some blush for a touch of color, add soft black eyeliner, a little eye shadow, and mascara to complete my smoky look. I put on some nude lip-gloss that tasted like coconut, and stood back to stare at my reflection. The Riley in the mirror was shaking her head at me with disapproval.
I felt a little edgy about going to this party, but equally anxious to get out of my head for a little while. Best thing about going to Brandt’s, free alcohol and no need for id. Brandt could care less, and since he was a bartender at a restaurant during the week—he made the best damn drinks. Plus, I get to chill with Rebel, and if there is anyone in this world that gets my dark poetry—it’s that bitch. She even puts it in her songs for her garage band, often trying to convince me to sing with her. Nuh’uh. No way. No how.
After letting my mom know my plans and a speech of being responsible. Em and I head out the door, literally coming to a halt at the scene unfolding before us. What the fuck? I knew he was lying.
I open the front door. We are walking down the steps heading to Emily’s car, when a giggle has my eyes darting straight to the white car parked in front of my house—a guest definitely of Josh’s.
Preslee is sitting in the driver’s side, giggling at whatever the hell he is saying to her. Josh is bent down with his back to us. He is leaning into the window of her car, talking to her. No crime in talking, right?
Neither, Emily nor I budge. Both of our eyes are trapped in this sight. Emily mumbles, ‘Fucking bitch’ under her breath, and I mumble, ‘Fucking liar’ under mine. She grabs my hand, squeezing it comfortingly. My breath is rapid, my heart is beating out of my chest, and I want to scream. I want to fight. I am pissed at what I am seeing.
He kisses her cheek and stands to watch her leave. Her eyes clock us standing in the distance. She smirks, waves goodbye, and drives off. I want to slap her, and rip her damn ponytail out.
When he turns around to head to his house. He freezes on the spot, his mouth gaping open, and his eyes widen before darting to the car driving away and back to mine. ‘Fuck me’ he mouths. ‘Fuck you’ is exactly my thought.
Anger forms and my blood boils. My eyes narrow and become cold. I tug on Emily’s hand, “Let’s go,” and we walk to her car ignoring Josh’s presence.
“Wait, Riley. It’s not what you think.” He is there in a heartbeat and grabbing my arm as I open the door to get in.
I yank it away. “Let me go, Josh. You don’t know what I’m thinking, and if you did, you wouldn’t be standing so close to me right now.” I warn him with a glare.
He swallows and steps back just a bit, “She just stopped by. I didn’t invite her, just listen. Where are you going? We need to talk,” he pleads.
I climb in the car, shut it and roll down the window. “I’m going to a party, which you would know about, if you weren’t busy with your not girlfriend.” I air quote it.
“Now back the fuck up. I’m going to drink myself into oblivion, and forget all about the fucking liars in my life or not in my life anymore.” I spit harshly and begin to roll the window up.
“Fucking liars?” he shouts, “I’m not lying to you. Riley, STOP! I’ve never lied to you. Fuck my life,” he shouts louder, throwing his hands in the air.
We drive away, leaving him standing there in my driveway. I am now on a mission. My mission is to forget, Joshua Parker. Forget that every fucking guy is a cheater and liar, and forget why I feel so completely broken and lost. Forget that I gave him my heart against my better judgment, and he didn’t cherish it, he didn’t protect it. No, he took it, confused it and then tossed it aside—all in a matter of hours.
I tried playing it safe. I tried to protect my heart at every corner, and every fucking decision has led me to this exact spot anyway.
Alone and disappointed.
CHAPTER 19
What the hell is wrong with me? Why can’t I not fuck this up?
I had the best day with Riley. I tell her I love her. We make this official. And as if the universe hates me, my doorbell rings. It’s Preslee.
“What are you doing here?” I ask annoyed and honestly surprised.
“I didn’t know where else to go,” she sniffles, and it’s only now that I realize she has been crying.
Fuck!
“Come in.” I open the door to let her in. My dad and Joey are still not home, so having Preslee alone definitely doesn’t feel right. If Riley sees her, this is going to look really bad.
“I made such a mess of my life, Josh. I can’t believe this is happening to me. I just didn’t know who to go to,” she starts crying again and telling me things.
I look at her bewildered, “Okay. Start with what happened, I guess.”
“I’m pregnant.”
Holy shit! She’s what?
“Pardon?”
She begins to sob, and I have to get her some tissue. “Yeah, I just found out. I’ve only been with one person for that to happen.”
Now I’m even more confused, because I know she has been with more than one person. At least, that’s what I’ve heard.
“What do you mean, for that to happen?” I ask her, needing to understand for some reason.
“You know?
Without a condom. I can’t believe I was so stupid. He promised to pull out, but he didn’t.” she explains.
“Who?”
She looks at me as though I should know, but I don’t. So, I don’t understand why she gives me that look.
“Dean, it was Dean. It has to be his baby. I’ve been careful every time, except for that one time with him.”
Oh shit. Oh shit.
“But Preslee, that was only a few weeks ago?” I say.
She shakes her head back and forth. “No, it wasn’t. That wasn’t the first time Dean and I fucked, Josh. He used to call me all the time, but only once did we not use a condom. It has to be his.”
Oh, hell no!
“Preslee, you do realize he had a girlfriend. Right?”
She looks at me with cold eyes. “Yeah, but she wouldn’t fuck him. I mean...after two years—she still wouldn’t give it up. I just helped him out. I didn’t expect him to dump her or anything. It was working, what we were doing but now… shit, now it’s all a mess.”
Riley’s a virgin?
“Why are you telling me this, Preslee?” I’m glad she did, but I just don’t understand why.
She shrugs, “I don’t know. Because my fucking life is a mess, and I just don’t know what to do. I wrote this letter to my parents, and I wanted to see if you would give it to them.”
She hands me an envelope labeled, ‘I’m sorry.’
“Why can’t you give it to them?”
“Because, I’m leaving. I’m going away, and I just need them to know I’m sorry for disappointing them.” Something in her eyes scares me a little.
“What do you mean, going away?” I open the envelope and read the letter. She is saying she is sorry, and that she can’t go on living like this…etc.
Oh my God.
“Preslee, this doesn’t sound like you’re just saying sorry and going on a trip for a while. This sounds like a suicide note.” I tell her.
She begins to cry again. Shit! “It’s just a letter, Josh. Will you give it to them or not?” she asks standing up and heading to the door.
I grab her arm by the elbow, “No. I won’t, and I won’t let you do this either. You need to tell Dean the truth. It will be okay, Preslee.” I plead with her. No guy, no situation is worth killing yourself over.
She throws her arms around me, and I hate to do it, but I hug her back. When I pull away, she thanks me.
I tell her, “Look, just don’t do anything stupid, okay? You need to talk to Dean and figure this out. There are other options besides the one you’re thinking of.”
She kisses my cheek, “you are such a sweet guy, Josh. I wish it were you.”
Um? I don’t!
“I will walk you out.”
She nods and I walk her to her car.
When I turn around and see Riley standing there, wide eyes, shocked—pissed off. I know immediately she is thinking the worst. She thinks I lied and that I played her.
‘Fuck me’ I say under my breath.
I try to grab her arm and make her listen. But she refuses. She calls me a fucking liar and basically tells me she doesn’t want me in her life anymore.
In a matter of a few hours, she has gone from loving me to hating me. Once again Preslee and Dean are to blame.
She won’t stop. She won’t tell me where she is going, and it’s not until I’m back in my room punching the shit out of my wall that I notice her text asking me to go to Brandt’s party.
My first reaction is, ‘Good, now I can fix this because I had plans to be there already’ my second reaction is, ‘fucking hell, Brandt’s parties are filled with booze and bad decisions.’ She just told me she plans on drinking herself into oblivion to forget me.
This.Can’t.Be.Happening
CHAPTER 20
I feel like my heart has been through the fucking shredder, and that I will never be the same. I want to feel numb, feel nothing and just be done with this shit. I will never put my guard down again.
Emily and I are in the car, my quick breaths filling the air. The Neighbourhood is on the radio playing Sweater Weather.
Emily lights up a cigarette and rolls the window down. She takes a drag offering it to me “it will calm your nerves,” she says, and I accept choking as I inhale.
“Thanks,” I cough.
“I can’t believe what I just saw,” I tell her. I attempt to take deep breaths to calm myself down.
Emily blows some smoke out her window and glances at me. “Maybe it’s not what it looked like,” she says full of optimism.
I glare at her, “Not what it looked like?”
“It sure looked like she spent an hour at his house, and he kissed her goodbye. It sure looked like guilt when he turned around.” I snap.
She flicks the ash out the window. “Look, I’m not saying it didn’t look suspicious. I’m just saying that it might not be what you think. They could have been just talking, it might have been innocent.”
“Innocent? How so?” I ask.
She takes another drag before handing it to me. I don’t even smoke but it makes me dizzy and...well, focusing on that feeling is better than the throb in my chest.
“I’m just saying, there might be truth to what he said. Preslee is a snake, and she could have come over uninvited. You should at least let him explain before you judge him and end this before it’s even started.”
“Can I tell you what else I think, Riley?” she asks even though she has already spelled it out completely. She clearly is on a roll.
“Yes, Oh, wise one. Please, continue?” I am aware I sound like a bitch.
So does she, she glowers at me “Don’t do that, I’m just trying to help.” I sigh and apologize.
“I think you are looking for a reason to make this not work. You were waiting for the bad before you even saw him out there.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s called a gut instinct. It’s called protecting myself, but look where it got me?” I can’t believe I was stupid enough to think anything could ever be different. Love never plays fair.
“No, Riley. It’s called fear. You expect for him to fuck up. He might not have done anything wrong, Riley. Josh isn’t Dean. Josh isn’t your dad. And I’m just saying, keep an open mind that Preslee is just up to something.”
I know she is right.
I grumble, “Whatever. We’re here. All I want to do tonight is forget him for a while, forget my feelings and become numb.” I open the door and get out, she sighs and shakes her head but joins me.
We walk inside Brandt’s house and are immediately engulfed in cigarette smoke. I will smell like an ashtray when I leave here.
Their house is small but cozy. Right away we are in the living room. Filling the space is one recliner, a leather sofa, and a giant big screen with a surround sound stereo system that has Red by Chevelle filtering from the speakers.
To the left, are their bedrooms, and straight ahead is a bathroom. To the right, is the tiniest kitchen known to man. The kitchen and the living room are open to each other with a bar area where Rebel has parked her ass in a stool, as she picks up and puts down multiple alcohol bottles.
They don’t own a dining room table. Nope, it’s a card table that is housing two guys I don’t recognize, surrounded by empty beer bottles.
At the card table, those two guys are...playing cards. How cliché. It makes me laugh. In the corner, is another couple groping each other and making out.
Brandt walks from down the hall and stops dead in his tracks as he eyes over Emily and she him. It’s so bizarre to watch. Brandt is dressed in all black and looks like he just left the biker bar, where Emily is standing in a blue jean mini skirt, pastel pink cami, and pink flip flops. Her ginger hair twisted up in a hair clip. They are so opposite, like fire and ice. But in this moment, they look they want to devour each other.
I shift uncomfortably, “C’mon.” I nudge her toward the barstools.
She hugs Rebel, and I don’t miss the daggers Rebel shoots at her brother.
She doesn’t seem very thrilled with the lust filled looks Emily and he just shared. Rebel nods an acknowledgement to me and me to her.
“Nice shirt,” she says.
“Yeah, well I have a black heart—a dead one.” I say and she looks at me with confusion.
“Ignore her, she is in a shitty mood.” Em tells Rebel.
Rebel runs her palms together, “Some of the best writing comes from shitty moods. Wanna head to the garage?” she asks me.
The garage has been transformed into a music room, where Rebel and I write and mesh brains. Her band practices there. Believe it or not, before the accident, I attempted to dabble with singing alongside Rebel. It was natural, being that I used to do the same with Josh for years, when he would play guitar.
Nope, not thinking about Josh. I don’t sing because my mom sang and because I don’t want to be like her. Singing made me feel something I didn’t want to feel, so I stopped and settled on writing for Rebel. Besides, she fits the persona better than I.
I debate and decide nope. This time, I don’t want to write it down, I want to drink it away. Maybe I am my Father’s daughter after all.
“Nah, I wanna drink. Gimme that.” I say, reaching for the tequila bottle and a shot glass.
I pour what will be one of many shots to come tonight. “To forgetting assholes,” I cheer and tip it back.
Emily sighs, Rebel looks curious, and the card table guys laugh. Brandt just watches nervously typing on his phone.
Rebel pours herself a shot, “Fucking pricks. Who needs em?” She goes to take her shot, but one of the card table guys smacks her ass, making her spill tequila all over the floor.
“You do, sweet cheeks,” he says smugly.
I laugh and swear Rebel is about to kick this guy’s ass. But she just grabs a napkin, bends down on her knees to wipe the mess and whines, “Dammit, Jeremy you made me waste a good shot of tequila.”
Escape the Doubt Page 12
