Desperate Chances

by A. Meredith Walters

  “Sure thing. I’m thinking you need to finish the job,” she laughed as she closed the door behind her as I stepped out of the bath.

  I leaned against the wall and tried to get my pounding heart to slow down. The dream I had been having was still extremely vivid.

  Dreams about Mitch weren’t uncommon. But they were usually jumbled images mixed with my residual guilt and longing.

  But this dream had been so real.

  My lady bits were all a tingle and it was as though I could still feel him there.

  Right…there.

  “Oh my god,” I moaned, my head falling back and connecting with the wall.

  I swore I could hear Vivian cackling as I gave myself another orgasm.

  While thinking about Mitch Freaking Abrams.

  “All done?” Vivian asked sweetly when I emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later, hair dried, clothes on, cheeks no longer flushed.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I remarked primly, turning on the coffee pot. “Where’s Maysie?” I asked, changing the subject.

  Vivian came into the kitchen and pulled her coffee cup down from the cabinet. “She left early to go to Garrett’s and check on the place. No one’s been there in a while so she told him she’d stop by before we left today.” Vivian poured some coffee into her mug. “You’re still coming tonight, right? Because Riley wanted me to tell you she’d come and get you herself if you tried to back out.”

  I laughed. “I know she will. She can be comforted that my need for survival far outweighs my fear of awkwardness.”

  Vivian gave me a mischievous smile. “It would definitely be awkward if Sophie knew you were moaning her boyfriend’s name while you were—”

  “Seriously, Viv, do you have to be so crass?” I complained, humiliated but unsurprised that she called me out. I had been waiting for it.

  Vivian shrugged. “At least I don’t pretend not to be wet for someone when I’m secretly panting for his d—”

  “Enough!” I yelled, cutting her off again.

  Vivian gave me an innocent look. “Why are you so testy? Am I hitting a nerve?”

  “It’s just not appropriate given that he’s been in a serious relationship for a year. How would you feel if it were Cole?” I asked and was rewarded with Vivian’s look of jealous rage.

  “Bitches know better,” she hissed.

  “Look, I had my chance with Mitch. I blew it. He’s happy now. That’s all I want for him.” I felt like I was beating a very dead horse.

  Vivian’s eyes became uncharacteristically sad. “Why won’t you fight for him, G? For the both of you? Don’t you think it’s worth it?”

  I tried to swallow around the large lump that had formed in my throat.

  “Please stop pressing me about it. It’s been ages since—well you know. Why can’t you let it drop?” I poured myself a bowl of cereal though I didn’t have an appetite. I had spent a sleepless night thinking about Mitch and what I’d say to him if given an opportunity.

  I still couldn’t believe that I had sent him a text.

  And that he had responded.

  What did it mean?

  It didn’t matter. I had deleted the message and never replied. I could only imagine what he was thinking about that.

  I had a feeling selfish bitch was in there somewhere.

  “Things were so great when all of us would hang out. Jordan and Mays. Garrett and Riley. Me and Cole. And you and Mitch. It was perfect. Just how it should be,” Vivian reminisced.

  I took a bite of mushy cornflakes and forced them down.

  It was important to eat every meal. I couldn’t skip them. Because then it would be all too easy to skip the next one. And the one after that.

  I took another bite and wished this conversation were over.

  “Well, that’s not how things are now. There’s Mays and Jordan. Riley and Garrett. You and Cole. And Sophie and Mitch. Then there’s Gracie who as it turns out isn’t so fun to hang out with when she’s not wasted.” I gave a self-deprecating laugh.

  Vivian scowled. “Is that what you think? That you’re not fun now that you’re not drinking? I really hope you’re not that stupid.”

  I managed to finish all of the cereal and got up to wash out the bowl. I was already running late for work because of my early morning clit flick.

  “No. I don’t really think that. I was just being silly. But seriously, Viv, don’t start anything this weekend. Or I swear to God I’ll leave. I’ll steal your keys and drive home,” I threatened.

  Vivian gave me a shrewd look. “I won’t start anything. But you need to try to talk to him. This has gone on entirely too long.”

  I let out a noisy breath and leaned against the counter. “I have more things going on in my life than whether Mitch Abrams is talking to me. Just drop it.”

  Lies. All lies. I told them so well.

  “I just need to lie here for a while and stretch. I think my muscles have started to atrophy from being cramped into one position by Vivian’s army of suitcases.” I kicked one of my roommate’s three bags. “We’re only here for the weekend, Viv. How many trampy halter tops does one girl need?”

  Vivian stuck out her tongue and hefted the largest of the three up onto the bed. “You really are cranky when you’re stressed out,” she said, flipping her long hair over her shoulder.

  “Shouldn’t you be trekking this stuff over to Cole’s room?” I asked her.

  “The guys are still in sound check. We’re going to head over and meet up with them as soon as you get all settled and I have a shower. I’ll take everything over later. We’re all on the same floor anyway,” Vivian explained, pulling a tiny scrap of fabric from the depths of her suitcase.

  “I’m guessing you want to use my shower then,” I surmised as she started to unload a pile of beauty products from her makeup bag.

  “I’ll be quick. They’re expecting us over there in an hour,” Vivian promised, blowing me a kiss and disappearing into the bathroom.

  There was a knock on the door and I got up from the bed and went to open it.

  “Glad to see I don’t have to make an unexpected trip to Bakersville to kick your ass,” Riley announced, walking into my hotel room.

  “Happy to see you too,” I chuckled, closing the door after Maysie followed her inside.

  Riley rolled her eyes and gave me a stiff hug. She wasn’t the touchy feely type so I purposefully wrapped my arms around her and gave her a squeeze.

  “Aw, you’ve missed me,” I simpered, kissing her cheek nosily.

  “Ugh. Enough with the hugging and kissing and squealing,” Riley said, pushing me away good-naturedly.

  I grinned. “It’s been months, Ri, you need to prepare yourself for tons of cuddles. Maybe I can do your hair for you and you can paint my nails. We can make it a real girls’ night!” I enthused sarcastically, knowing the response I’d get.

  Riley made a face. “Has hell frozen over? No? Well then fuck off.”

  Maysie grabbed my hand and pulled me forward. She slung her arm around my shoulders while doing the same to Riley. “The gang’s all here! It’s been too long!”

  “Well except for Viv. Let me guess she’s giving herself a Brazilian in the bathroom,” Riley guessed.

  “I heard that!” Vivian called from the other side of the bathroom door and we all laughed.

  “You’re coming over to sound check with us, right?” Maysie asked.

  My stomach knotted, but I pasted a smile on my face. “Sure.”

  “We thought we’d all go get something to eat before the guys have to be back for the show,” Riley suggested and I simply nodded.

  Eating and food was the last thing on my mind.

  But taking a drink of something in the mini bar was right at the front of it.

  I felt jittery and apprehensive.

  Get a grip! I scolded myself. I’d seen Mitch many times since sleeping together. Why was I getting so worked up?

  There was absolut
ely no reason for me to feel this way. I seriously doubted Mitch would bother speaking to me at all.

  It’ll be just as it had been for the last year; pretending the other doesn’t exist. Pretending I didn’t feel like bashing my head against a wall every time I heard Sophie’s voice.

  Sounds like a super duper time!

  The idea of actually trying to speak to him had been dashed the moment I decided not to return his text.

  Why did I have to go and send that stupid message in the first place?

  I had just resigned myself to the level of discomfort that I continuously felt in his presence. Now it would be so. Much. Worse.

  Vivian finally came out of the bathroom and struck a pose in front of the mirror. She ran her hands down her sides while twisting her body left and right as she looked at her reflection.

  “Damn Viv, are we hittin’ the clubs before dinner? Do I need to dig out my hoochie gear?” Riley asked blandly.

  “Some of us like to look good for our man,” Vivian snipped, fluffing hair.

  “And some of us wait to show off our lady bits until after the sun has set,” Riley responded.

  “Ladies, ladies. Come on. Let’s just get over to the bar. The guys should be about finished.

  “Let’s go then,” I said with pep in my voice.

  Riley lifted her eyebrows in surprise. “Wow, someone’s excited to listen to sound check.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Oh snark, how I’ve missed you.”

  I looped my arm with Riley’s and walked out into the hallway, Maysie and Vivian following us.

  “How’s the job going?” I asked my friend as the four of us piled into the elevator and headed to the lobby.

  “Long hours. Crap pay. It’s great actually,” Riley grinned and she meant it. She had graduated in the spring from grad school and was now working for one of the biggest newspapers in Boston. So yeah, I was a little bit jealous. I was happy for her most of all, but I could admit that I wished it were me working as a cutting edge reporter and not writing about people’s landscapes for a low budget magazine that sat at the back of the rack at the dentist’s office.

  Riley and I had both interned at the Bakersville Times during our senior year and when I went off the rails I had pretty much tanked any possibility for a good job in journalism after graduation. So I shouldn’t be complaining about the Southern Gardens gig. It was better than nothing.

  “How about you? How are the gardens in the south?” Riley asked.

  “Full of flowers,” I replied blandly.

  “I’d lose my mind writing about plants all the time,” Vivian added as the elevator doors opened and we piled out into the lobby.

  “Eh, it’s not the worst thing in the world. Sure I’d rather be writing for a fashion magazine or be the next Dear Abby, but it’s something to hold me over until I finally land my dream job as a trapeze artist with the circus,” I remarked.

  “It’s good to have goals,” Riley replied flippantly.

  “I’ve been working on my portfolio, adding stuff to it. So maybe I can actually land myself a decent writing job,” I said with a whole lot of optimism that most days I didn’t feel.

  “You know, I could always put in a word for you with Diane. Or if you wanted to, you could come up to Boston. I bet you I could get you a job, no problem. You’re talented. Way too talented to be schlepping it at that monthly rag,” Riley offered.

  “Thanks, Ri. I really appreciate it. I do. But I want to get something on my own merit.”

  Riley looked at me like I was nuts. “You do realize that in life it’s who you know as much as what you know, right? There’s no shame in me greasing the wheels.”

  I gave her another loud, wet kiss on the cheek, which she promptly wiped off with a look of disgust. “If I find myself sucking old guys off in an alleyway for Raman Noodles money I promise to take you up on it. Until then, I’d like to keep doing things my way.”

  We walked out of the hotel and waited while Maysie waved for a cab. “Dude, if you start sucking off old dudes in alleyways, you need more than an in for a newspaper job, sicko,” Riley shuddered.

  I pulled on my wool gloves and hunched down in my puffy jacket. It was much colder than I thought it would be. Virginia was experiencing an unusually frigid winter with entirely too much snow. And judging by the sky it appeared we were in for another round of wintery weather. I just hoped it wouldn’t impact my escape on Sunday. I figured by then I’d be ready to make a run for it.

  “I know it may seem like I’m not moving very fast, but for me, it’s fast enough,” I laughed. “Besides, lately I’ve been pretty busy trying to prove to my mom and dad that I’m capable of taking care of myself. That they no longer need to cut up my meat and read me a story at bedtime,” I sighed as I wedged myself between Maysie and Riley. Vivian sat up front with the driver and was playing with the radio. I could hear the driver telling her to leave it alone but she ignored him, finally leaving it on a pop station.

  “Are they still trying to make you move home? They’re relentless,” Vivian piped up from the front seat.

  “You betcha. It’s still a regular discussion. Well it’s more of an attempt at dictatorship than a legitimate conversation.”

  “They must have gone to the same school of parenting as mine did,” Maysie commiserated.

  “I know you guys all have your lives figured out. Riley is going to be the next Christine Amanpour. Vivian is organizing high-end events and Maysie is on her way to becoming the next great thing in band marketing. As for me, I’m cool just not having my mother pick out my clothes every morning,” I shrugged.

  “The next Christine Amanpour, huh? I like the sound of that. Though if I can be Christine, you totally can be Barbara Walters,” Riley mused and grinned.

  “Totally. Though pre-The View. Just so we’re clear,” I added.

  “Absolutely. The View can suck a fat one!” Riley exclaimed.

  “Hey, I like The View!” Vivian said from the front seat. Riley and I both rolled our eyes.

  “Of course you do, Viv,” Riley patronized, leaning forward to pat her on the shoulder.

  “We’re here!” Vivian announced from the front seat. Maysie leaned forward and paid the cab driver as the rest of us filed out.

  “They’re playing here?” Riley asked, squinting in the late afternoon sunlight.

  “It’s not so bad,” I remarked, grimacing.

  “Uh, yeah it is,” Vivian exclaimed, her hands covering her mouth. “It’s a dive! Why are they playing in a place like this?”

  Okay, they may be overreacting. A little. Because sure Dicky’s Roadside Bar looked like it belonged on Skid Row but it was well known in the indie rock scene for showcasing some of the best bands out there. It was smaller than their gigs had been in the past year, but it was still a big deal to play there.

  “This is Dicky’s, guys. It looks scary, but its history in the rock scene is amazing,” Maysie reminded them.

  “There’s the bus around the back,” Riley said, pointing to the tour bus parked underneath some trees.

  We headed around the side of the bar and found Cole and Garrett walking into the building.

  “Baby!” Vivian squealed, running towards them. Cole’s mouth stretched into a beaming smile and picked her up just as she reached him. Vivian’s legs wrapped around his waist and Cole’s hands buried into her thick hair.

  “I missed you,” he murmured just before kissing her.

  “Here we go,” Riley muttered chuckling. I had to look away from the overt display of affection. I tried to pretend the lump in my throat didn’t exist.

  “Hey, you,” Garrett said, pulling on Riley’s belt loops. His eyes were bright as he too wrapped his arms around his girlfriend and kissed her like she was the air he breathed.

  Maysie threaded her arm through mine and tugged me towards the back door. “Come on. Let’s leave ’em to it,” she suggested, taking pity on me.

  “It’s a lot bigger than it looks outside,�
�� I commented once we were inside. I looked around the dimly lit room and tried not to cringe. It was dingy and on the seedy side. It looked like something you’d find on a road somewhere in the middle of nowhere.

  I remembered the shows I went to last year when Generation Rejects played to sold out venues with almost a thousand people in the audience.

  I could see Jordan up on the small stage unrolling cords and connecting them to the amps. I tried not to search for him. I attempted to keep my eyes focused on Jordan but it didn’t work. It never worked.

  Almost as if by compulsion my eyes zeroed in on Mitch Abrams. He stood off to the side, pulling a string from his well-worn bass. He’d had the instrument since he was a kid and first realized he loved to play. He had told me that his dad, who had once been a musician himself, had picked it out specifically for his son.

  My stomach knotted up and I felt a little sick. My palms began to sweat and there was a distinct buzzing in my ears.

  “I love you, Gracie. God, I love you so much. Don’t you get that?”

  I had been so stupid. How could I have missed the signs he had so obviously been giving me?

  How did I ever think it would only ever be just sex?

  “I—”

  My words cut off as though severed with a knife. I had nothing to say. No way to respond. I couldn’t give him the words back. No matter how much he wanted them. I loved Mitch. He was one of my best friends. But the type of love he was laying at my feet wasn’t the kind that came from friendship.

  He wanted so much more than I would ever be able to give him…

  He was so incredibly handsome in his boy next-door kind of way. I loved his dark hair and dark eyes and the slight stubble on his chin because he had obviously been too lazy to shave that morning.

  His shoulders were broad, his hands large with fingers covered in callouses. I remembered how it felt when he touched me. How I had shivered as he palmed my—

  Yeah, not going there.

  “There’s my girl,” Jordan called out once he saw us. Mitch looked up, a lock of hair falling across his forehead. I tried not to stare as he reached up and brushed it away. Christ, I needed to get a grip. I wasn’t some lovesick schoolgirl. And my life didn’t hinge on whether Mitch Abrams acknowledged me or not.