I try to have fun, but it’s kind of miserable. They do their best, making me laugh and looking for new guys to help me “get over him.”
“The fastest way to get over someone is to get under someone else. Especially since he was your first. You know. If it doesn’t work out,” Daisy says.
“We just had a fight,” I repeat. They all give each other sad faces, like I’m delusional.
“Well, you didn’t start dating him under the best circumstances,” Cass says. Yeah, and whose fault is that? I glare and they all have the sense to look guilty.
“We,” Hazel says, motioning to the collective and then sighing. “We’ve been talking, a lot, and we feel like assholes. For taking your keys at the bar and pressuring you into getting with Jett. It wasn’t right and we’re sorry. All of us. You were so upset when you fought with him and we feel responsible.” They all nod like one person.
I cross my arms. This should have been said a while ago. It’s kind of a little too late. Now that they’re apologizing, I realize how much this has been bothering me lately, and how much I’ve been brushing it off, and trying to be non-confrontational about it. This is what happens when you let things fester over time.
And then I lose it.
“Oh you’re sorry now? Fuck you very much for that. I’m so glad that you are sorry NOW, WAY after the fact. It should have never happened in the first place! You’re supposed to be my fucking friends and you treated me like shit. I’m done.” The rage that had been quietly simmering since that night erupts and if I don’t leave, I’m going to say a lot of other things.
So I storm out, grabbing my keys and purse on the way. I’d made them let me take my own car, with the hope I could escape and go see Jett.
“Don’t fuck with me right now,” I say to my car as I turn the key and it roars to life.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” I peel out of the parking lot and realize I have nowhere to go. Again. My stupid fucking friends have done it again. My hands shake on the steering wheel and tears blur my vision. I pull over before I kill someone and then I grab my purse and make sure the little present I made for Jett is in it. It’s not much, really, but I hope it will mean something to him.
When I finally get to Jett’s apartment, I knock on the door and Javier answers it, narrowing his eyes at me.
“Well, you’re back.” Jesus, I’m afraid he’s going to punch me. He must see the horror on my face because then he ducks his head and I swear, he’s laughing.
Um, what? That’s the last reaction I thought I would get. He stands back up, still laughing.
“Did you really think I was going to buy that performance last night? Come on in.” He holds the door wide and I stumble past him.
“What? I don’t know what you mean?” I don’t sound convincing at all.
He puts his arm around me.
“Seriously, you can drop the act. Nice try, but I know Jett and I know that he would never talk like that, especially in public. So nice try, babe.”
“Where is he?” I say, ignoring what he just said.
He finally seems to register that I’m gross and snotty. I should have grabbed a box of tissues when I stormed out. Didn’t think of that at the time.
“I just needed a place to go.” I can feel the tears trying to start up again, but I fight them back.
“Of course.” He pats my shoulder and leads me into the living room and sits me down on the couch. Good thing I’m not afraid of it anymore.
I’ve never seen Javier so serious. For the VERY first time, he’s at a loss for words. Huh, who knew crying girls render Javier speechless?
“I’m sorry. You don’t have to do anything. I’ll just sit here until Jett gets back. Go about your business.”
“Fuck that,” Javier says and dashes to the bathroom, coming back with a box of tissues before running to the fridge and bringing back a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass.
He pours a shot and holds it out to me.
“Drink it,” he says when I look at him as if he’s grown an extra limb from his head. My hands are still a little shaky as I take the glass from him. I’ve never done a straight whiskey shot before, but there’s no time like the present, so I tip my head back and down it in three gulps.
Of course I choke on it. God, it’s like drinking gasoline. I sputter and Javier hands me a tissue to wipe my face. I hack up a lung and gasp and he bangs my back.
“Burns so good, doesn’t it?” Not really. But when I’m finally able to breathe, I do feel a tiny bit better. Just a tiny bit. Then he gets me a glass of water and I chug that down.
“Do you want to talk about it? Because I’m a terrible advice giver, but I can listen.” Welp, he seems to be my only option. I could text Amelia, but that would mean explaining the whole Jett situation, and Javier already knows about it.
“My friends are assholes,” I say, blowing my nose again. That pretty much sums it up. Javier pours another shot, but this time he takes it himself. He knocks it back in one gulp and doesn’t even cough.
“Yeah, Jett filled me in on the whole thing.” Well, Jett doesn’t KNOW the whole thing, but I’ll go along with it.
“I’m just tired of being treated as their pity friend. They should want to be friends with me because I’m fun to hang out with and we have things in common and we care about one another. Being friends with someone because you feel sorry for them is the worst reason to be friends. Ever.”
I think I’m starting to feel the shot now. My face is getting warmer and my belly is burning little bit. I almost want to do another shot, but if I do, I won’t be able to drive home, that’s for sure. If I even want to go back.
“Then why are you staying friends with them? Ditch those bitches.” Simple advice, hard to follow.
“It’s not that easy. They’re all I’ve got.”
“What about me? What about Jett?” He doesn’t mention my family, which tells me that Jett probably told him about my issues with my family.
“That’s not enough. Hazel was my best friend when I didn’t have anyone. Not even my family. She was there for me. And the rest, same thing. They’ve been there.”
“So? At some point ‘being there’ isn’t going to cut it. What’s the point of keeping someone in your life if they’re going to treat you that way.” I know he’s making sense. I know this.
“Well, I did just scream at them and use the word fuck a few times.” Javier chuckles and pours me another shot. I knock it back, but I still choke and cough.
“That’s a start, blondie. We gotta bring out your inner bitch. You need to be more assertive. Don’t let people walk all over you.” He slaps me on the back and then takes another shot.
For someone who claims that they suck at advice, he’d done a good job.
“You’re not as much of an asshole as I thought you were,” I say as I lean back on the couch. I really need to go wash my face.
“Don’t tell anyone. We’ll keep that strictly between us.” He winks and takes the shot glasses and whiskey bottle back to the kitchen.
“Gaaahhhhh,” I say, rubbing my face. It’s still sticky from my tears.
“Oh, it’s not as bad as you think it is. You can find new friends. I happen to know some very nice young ladies that you could be friends with.”
“Um, like that one with the dress that we lost at the bar that time?”
“Victoria? No, definitely not her. She’s not very nice.” That sounds like an understatement. Not that I really know anything about her, other than the fact that she went out with Javier and she wore that, um, dress.
“Jett should be back in a few minutes. Do you want to stay?”
“I guess that’s the plan. I’ve got enough stuff here, so I can.” Now that we’re done drinking and I’m done crying, Javier looks like he doesn’t know what to do with me. I go wash my face and by the time I’m done Jett is back. I hear him and Javier talking in low voices, and I keep the water on so they won’t know I can hear them.
&
nbsp; There’s a knock at the bathroom door.
“Shan? You okay?” I turn the water off and open the door. The alcohol has given everything a warm and hazy quality. Nothing seems that bad, and I’m kind of wondering what I was so upset about earlier.
“Yeah, I’m fine now.” Jett looks defeated. Even his mohawk isn’t styled. It’s limp and lifeless. I remember I once watched a movie about whales and the ones that have been raised in captivity, their top fin curls over. Like their spirit is broken. He reminds me of that right now.
He opens his arms and I hug him. He sniffs and pulls back.
“Are you drunk?”
“Not yet. But a few more shots and I will be. It’s Javi’s fault.” I pat his head and walk back out into the living room. And I crash right into the couch.
“Oh my gosh!” Jett’s holding onto me.
“Ow.” This couch hates me, I swear.
“Well, I think that is my cue to get the hell out of here, which I am going to do right now. Call me if you need anything. See you later, Meryl.”
I ignore the fact that he calls me Meryl because I’m too focused on Jett.
“I’m sorry I came, but my roommates—” I was still so mad at them I couldn’t even finish this sentence. “And I couldn’t let last night be it. Please talk to me,” I say, pulling out the present from my purse. It’s a crane I made out of notebook paper. I even drew a little Batman logo on the wings. It’s dumb, but it’s all I could think of.
I hold it out in both hands and he looks down at it. His façade cracks and he takes it from me.
“I’m sorry, Shannon. I just . . . I had a moment last night and I freaked out and bailed. I’ve been trying to think of how to call you and make up for it, but I didn’t know what to say. I’m so, so sorry.”
“So this isn’t the end?” He’s still looking at the crane.
“No, this is not the end. We can make it the next week and-a-half. How hard can it be?” He laughs a little. Right. How hard can it be?
Now that Javier is in on our secret, I feel a little bit less pressure. I also don’t mind him being around when I’m with Jett. I’ve spent some time with him now and, it’s apparent that what I thought was just for show, is actually his personality. And now that he’s more comfortable with me, he seems even MORE open. If that’s possible.
“So Javier didn’t buy the fight?” Jett and I are sitting on the couch, sharing leftover salad from last night. The tortellini is already gone.
“Yeah, but he didn’t tell me until I got back after . . . After I used the safe word. But yeah, he knew it was fake. So, um, I told him everything.”
“You told him?!” I mean, he had no choice, but still. Not thrilled.
“Look, I didn’t have a choice. What was I supposed to tell him?”
“I’m not mad at him telling Javier. Just mad that we weren’t more convincing.”
“It’s not your fault. We probably shouldn’t have fought in front of him. He knows me too well. He said it wasn’t even close. How did it go with Hazel?”
“Good, I guess. She seemed to buy it hook, line and sinker. The girls took me out for a spa day to help me recover.” I hold out my newly polished nails to show him. They’re black with yellow spots. I hope he sees the homage to Batman.
“While we were out they finally managed to get on my last nerve. So I screamed at them and came here.”
“Nice.” He takes both of my hands in his. Just that one little touch instantly makes me feel better. It’s like inhaling cool, fresh air and it instantly calms me.
Jett doesn’t let go of my hands and my heart flutters. Ah, being with him feels so good. Like it’s meant to be. I squeeze his hands and he squeezes them back.
“I missed you,” I say, looking down at our joined hands.
“I missed you. I know it’s only been a few hours, but it felt awful. So, can we just erase that word that I said and pretend I didn’t say it?”
“And how do you plan on erasing those hours?” I say, and as soon as the words are out, I realize what he must be thinking. I didn’t mean it the way it comes out. His eyes go wide for a second.
“That’s not what I meant . . .” I trail off. “You should know by now I can’t seem to stop saying dumb things.”
He shakes his head as if to clear it.
“I wouldn’t go that far. But I think we need to hug it out.” He lets go of my hands and opens his arms wide. I dive at him and we both collapse against the arm of the couch. He hugs me tight and I hug him back.
I raise my head and he’s smiling.
“Missed you,” I say.
“Missed you.” We totally just said this, but it bears repeating. He smacks a kiss on my forehead and then I get off him. We only have one more week, and we have to get through it.
“So what now?” I say.
“Come here, princess, you’re having a rough day.” He sweeps into his arms and carries me to his room and deposits me on his bed.
“Let’s just stay here for the rest of the night, okay?”
“Sure,” I say, leaning back against the pillow.
“Stay right there,” he says, and dashes out to the living room and then comes back with his artist’s pad.
I turn my head, but he makes a noise and motions for me to move it back.
“Are you going to draw me?”
“Yes, I am. Now stay still.” He leans against his dresser and tries to get the best angle before coming forward and moving some of my hair, and then my arm and then one leg. I feel like a piece of clay. When he’s happy with me, he turns on all of the lights, and moves a lamp around.
“My God, are you done yet?”
“One more thing.” He takes one of his cranes and puts it on my shoulder, as if it landed there.
“Now don’t move.”
“What happens if I sneeze? Or have to pee?”
“Too bad. Fight the urge.”
“Yes, Mr. Bossypants.” I glare at him and he points a warning finger at me.
“Stop that.” I stick my tongue out, but go back to the way I was. Jett sighs once and then he gets to work.
“You know, this is just like that scene in Titanic. But without the nudity. And the ship sinking and all.”
He glances up at me and back to the paper.
“Actually, the ship sinking happened after the nude drawing. So those two things aren’t really related.”
“You’ve seen Titanic?” I don’t know a whole lot of guys that would sit through that.
“Listen, I wasn’t allowed to watch anything growing up, so when I got free, I watched EVERYTHING. That includes Titanic.” I snort again. I wonder what else he’s seen. I’m about to ask, but he shushes me. Things are extra funny now and it’s hard to keep the giggling to a minimum. Stupid whiskey.
“Will you stay still?” Jett finally says, but he’s laughing at me. It’s more fun to make him mad than stay still. But then I relax into it and watch him work. I could do that all day.
Things are quiet and calm, but then the door bangs open.
“Your fucking phone is blowing up because of her damn friends. Whoa. I hope I’m not interrupting something,” he says when he sees what we’re doing. Well, we’re not even doing anything. It could have been a lot worse.
“We were just about to ravage each other,” I say as he starts to back out of the room. “Want to watch?” Whiskey makes words fall out of my mouth.
Javi puts his hands up.
“Noooo thank you.” Jett takes the phone and Javi closes the door.
“Holy shit. I don’t know how your friends got my number, but they’ve ALL called and texted me, asking if I knew where you were.” He shows me the phone and I roll my eyes.
“I left my phone at home when I stormed out.”
“Well, what do you want to do about it?”
I don’t really care.
“Just message them back that I’m fine, but don’t tell them you’re with me because then they’ll come here.” I don’t want
to see them yet. I don’t want to deal with them yet, either.
“Okay. If that’s what you want.” He clearly thinks I should confront this, but they’re not his friends. Or former friends. Unless something changes drastically, I’m done with them.
“That’s what I want. Now go back to drawing me,” I say, resuming my pose as he sends the messages on his phone.
He gives me a look, but turns the phone off and then sets it down.
“Whatever you say, Mona Lisa.”
I fall asleep while Jett is drawing, and he wakes me up as he’s putting the blankets over me. I mumble something, but he shushes me and tucks me in.
Hours later I wake up with my head aching a bit. I’m alone in Jett’s bed. Where the crap is he? I get up and grope for some of my other clothes so I can change out of my jeans. I slip on a large t-shirt and a pair of holey shorts and stumble out into the living room. Jett’s on the couch in his shirt and boxers.
“Come to bed,” I say, poking him. He opens his eyes and blinks at me.
“We don’t have to do that now that Javi knows.”
“I don’t want to sleep alone and I don’t want to argue, so just come to bed, asshole.” I grab his hand and tug and he gets up and follows me back to his room. I shove him toward the bed and he gets in and I climb in after him.
Much better.
Within moments I’m asleep again.
“Let me see it!” I say the next morning when Jett and I get up. I’m feeling a lot better, and the headache is gone, thankfully. We both have classes, but there is no way I’m going today. Not happening. I have NEVER played hooky before. I always thought people who did that didn’t give a shit about their education, or respect how much money it was costing, but I need a break today. Just one day.
Jett agrees to my plan easier than I thought he would, but he won’t agree to let me see the drawing he made of me last night.
“Show me,” I whine, resting my head on his shoulder.
For Real (Rules of Love, Book One) Page 15
