Bad Will Hunting

by Heather Wardell

  Sitting at the huge table in the restaurant’s private room, I let my plotting against Aaron make me smile so I fit in as all of the couples in our group detail how they met at MC’s friend Liv’s suggestion “because it’s so romantic to hear those stories”.

  It might have been to her, with a brand new boyfriend at her side, but to me it’s agonizing, especially since one of the stories involves a chance meeting on an airplane and then each of them doing a determined hunting-down of the other. “And now we’re engaged too,” the woman finishes, laughing and flashing her ring, and I make myself clap with the others but it hurts. A lot. If I could only find Will, everything would be fine. I don’t want the romance side with him, definitely not. I just need him. So I can punish him. Why do things never go my way?

  “More wine?” Aaron asks the table at large before the next couple begins telling its story, and I snatch up my glass and hold it out to him. If I stay sober I’m likely to punch someone tonight.

  He gets up and comes over to me, though he could have had someone pass my glass to him, and pours me a generous serving of red. “More where that came from,” he says, his eyes locked to mine. “If you want it, that is.”

  A plot to humiliate him as he’s humiliated Summer begins to grow in the soil of my rage. I don’t want him, which is what he’s clearly suggesting, but if he thinks I do...

  “Oh, I want it,” I say, and he winks at me and returns to his chair as I take a long drink from the glass and try not to feel Sam’s eyes on me. He’s the only one who knows I’ve been cutting back a bit on my drinking. But it’s a party. You’re supposed to drink at a party. And a glass or two never hurt anybody.

  If I’d stopped at a glass or two I’d have been fine, but Aaron keeps me topped up and I let him while flirting with him and when we leave to head to the club where we’re going to dance the night away I don’t actually know how much I’ve drunk but I have trouble walking a straight line to the door.

  “You okay?” Sam murmurs to me as I follow him into one of the taxis Liv ordered for us all.

  “For sure,” I say as brightly as I can, settling myself into the middle seat beside him. “Having a great time. You?”

  He doesn’t dignify this with a response, which annoys me and makes me turn to Aaron, who’d jumped in to take the last space in our car and left Summer behind waiting for the next one. “How about you? Doing all right?”

  Aaron reaches over and gives my knee a squeeze. “You bet, gorgeous. You’ll dance with me, right?”

  I make a show of considering it, and he laughs. “You’ve got standards. Damn. Well, I’ll buy you another drink and then ask you again.”

  Sam clears his throat, and Aaron shifts back into his seat then leans forward and begins chatting up the girl in the front seat. He keeps glancing at me, though, and I make sure I keep watching him. I need him to think I want him.

  At the club, we form a lump of seething humanity on the dance floor, Kent and MC in the middle laughing and showing off their terrible dance moves while the rest of us cheer them on. I do too, of course, and keep up my attempts to make Aaron think I’m after him, but I’m surprised at how much the sight of the happy couple hurts. They’ve got the fairy tale, the brilliant flashing love that I’ve heard about but never experienced. Never will experience. It’s just not out there for me. Anger and revenge, yes. Love, no. Somewhere deep inside I know it’s true. I just have to accept it. Nobody’s ever loved me and nobody ever will.

  I grab another drink at the bar, because I want to wash away those feelings, and throw down half of it as I return to the group. It helps, but so does the distraction of noticing Summer. She’s on the outskirts of the group, not front and center like she usually is, and she merely shifts from foot to foot instead of dancing. Aaron’s clearly done a number on her, and I’m going to do one on him. I might not currently be able to get revenge on Will, but Aaron will make a good substitute for now.

  As I watch, Kent’s big brother Ron goes over and says something into Summer’s ear. She shakes her head and rubs her forehead as she responds, and he grimaces and gives her shoulder a pat.

  I glance at Aaron, and see him watching too with a cold look in his eyes. I’m right. They were together but they’re not any more.

  As if to prove this, Aaron pulls the girl from the taxi closer and begins whispering in her ear. She giggles and looks shocked and slaps his arm, but so lightly it’s clear she’s not really offended by whatever he said.

  Summer walks away, with Ron trailing behind her, and Aaron watches her departure even as he whispers to the woman. Then he looks at me and catches me looking at him.

  I turn away without meaning to, then realize this is my chance and glance back at him. He’s still watching me. I turn away again like I’m feeling embarrassed about being caught, and in moments, as I expect, I feel an arm slipping around my waist. “I promised you a drink,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear as he does. “What can I get you?”

  The contact sets me on fire, and I burn even hotter with the wine in my system. I was going to make him want me and then shut him down, but my booze-soaked brain and suddenly aroused body decide I should actually fool around with him and then humiliate him. I turn into him so I can reach his ear and say, “Whatever you’ve got.”

  He chuckles and raises his free hand to stroke over my cheek, sending such shivers through me I can hardly stay standing. “I like what you’ve got,” he says, his arm tightening around me. “How about a beer?”

  “If they don’t have wine, sure.”

  “One of each, coming up,” he says, and this time his lips against me are less of a brush and more of a kiss. “You got it. Actually, come with me.”

  With his arm still around me he leads me to the bar a few feet away, and I go with him and fight against my unexpected hunger. I can’t lose track of what I’m doing. I have to play him or he’s going to play me.

  Aaron, being Aaron, gets served quickly. He releases me and turns his back to me as the bartender passes him a glass of wine and a beer bottle, and I watch with drunken confusion as she giggles for no apparent reason.

  When he turns back to me, though, I get it. He’s got the wine in his hand and the beer bottle stuffed almost entirely down the front of his jeans. Arching his hips toward me, he says, “See anything you like?”

  I take the glass from his hand and drink half of it in one go so I’ll have the nerve to do what I know he wants: reach out and pull the bottle slowly from his crotch. Our eyes lock the whole time I’m doing it, and when I raise the bottle to my lips and take a long slow drink his mouth quirks into a satisfied smile that turns me on even more.

  He leans in and whispers, “Come dance with me,” and I let him take my wrist since both my hands are full of alcohol and lead me away from the bar and further away from our group. The wine’s gone straight to my head, and everything about Aaron is going straight to parts further south, and though I’m trying hard to keep my revenge plan in mind I’m not sure I’m going to be able to put it into action any time soon. I’d let him lead me anywhere at this point, and once we start I can’t imagine I’ll be able to stop. Even just his touch on my wrist is driving me crazy.

  Once he’s moved us into a secluded corner near the back of the club, he pulls me close and lets his hands roam my lower back. “You’re hot, Ashley,” he says against my ear. “You’re warming up everything that bottle cooled down.”

  I take another swig from the beer over his shoulder and find myself pressing my body into his. “Does that help?”

  His hands dig into my hips, holding me even closer. “Damn straight it does.”

  When his lips meet my neck I gasp and let my head fall to the side to give him better access.

  “Put down those damn drinks.” He slides his tongue along my ear. “I don’t want you distracted.”

  I throw back the last of the beer then follow it with the wine, and he takes the empties from my hands and draws away to put them on a table behind me.


  The second he lets go I feel sick and wrong and horrified. What am I doing? How is this going to get revenge on him? Why do I even want it? Why am I always trying to get--

  He returns, pulls me into his arms, and locks his mouth to my neck again, and everything shuts down but sensation. It doesn’t matter what I’m doing. I don’t care. He’s going to make me feel good and that’s all that matters. For once, I’ll feel good. Wanted.

  His mouth moves slowly and deliciously up my neck as his hands move down onto my hips again.

  I push myself even closer to him.

  He kisses up over my ear and onto my cheek, then kisses me hard on the mouth.

  I kiss him back, passion rising in me so much it hurts, then my mind fills with an image of Sam.

  What the hell am I doing? I’m kissing Aaron to get revenge for Summer, which doesn’t make any sense, and makes even less sense since I don’t even like Summer, and Sam’s here and he’s going to see and--

  I jerk away as something far from passion rises in me.

  “Oh, God,” I mumble, clapping my hand over my mouth. “I’m going to--”

  I spin away from him, looking for a bathroom, and to my relief spot one only a few steps away. I rush over, feeling my stomach churning even more at the movement, and fling myself past the women waiting in line and up to a sink, where I throw up harder and more painfully than I ever have in my life. It feels like I’m retching right from my toes, like I’m turning myself inside out.

  When I finally stop, I realize I’m crying too. I dash the tears from my cheeks, since there’s no point to them, and rinse my mouth out with water then make myself rinse out the sink too though that almost makes me puke again. Though I don’t want to, I raise my head and stare at myself in the mirror for a moment. Ghostly green, sweaty, and repulsive. Seems about right. Figuring there’s no point in redoing my makeup yet, I collapse onto a bench near the door.

  “You okay?” One of the women waiting in line gives me a sympathetic smile. “Better out than in, right?”

  I remember Sam saying that after he burped, and how cutely embarrassed he was, and it makes me want to cry again. “Yeah. For sure.”

  “Sit for a while until you feel better.”

  I nod, carefully, and stay put. I do feel better, at least physically, the fog of the alcohol cleared away from having thrown up some of it, but within moments the haze rolls back over me. I find myself welcoming it, because it buries my feelings of disgust with myself. Aaron, of all people. And in front of Sam. Not that he’d care. We’re just friends. Nobody wants to be more than friends with me. But still. I know he isn’t Aaron’s biggest fan.

  And neither am I. But I kissed him to get revenge. How far would I have gone with him, if I hadn’t thrown up? Would I have let him take me home? Or take me in the alley behind the club? I can’t honestly say I wouldn’t have, and that terrifies me. Am I really so desperate to get revenge on someone, anyone, that I’d have sex with a guy I care nothing about just to get it?

  I think I am. Somehow I’ve become that desperate. The realization horrifies me enough that I throw up again, then again sit hating myself until the alcohol takes me over once more and blurs my shame.

  As I return to the bench after throwing up for the third time, a woman says, “Ashley?”

  I look up, wiping sweat from my face, and recognize her as the ‘met on an airplane’ one from dinner. “Yeah.”

  She holds out a water bottle. “Sam sent me in, with this. And he wants to know if you’re okay.”

  I burst into tears, though I don’t know why. “Tell him I’m fine,” I say through my sobs. “And I’m sorry.”

  “I’ll tell him,” she says, patting me cautiously on the shoulder as if she’s afraid she’ll make me barf again. “Oh, and he said he’d come in if you want him to.”

  I look up at her, swiping away my tears. “He knows where I am? He can’t come in here.” I can’t imagine he would, anyhow. Aaron would probably invade a women’s bathroom in a second, and I can see Will doing it, but not Sam.

  She gives me a small smile. “He said he’d go anywhere if it helped you.”

  The waiting women chorus, “Aw,” in unison, and I dissolve back into tears. “I’m so sorry,” I manage to get out. “Tell him that too. I’ll wait another few minutes and if I’m done I’ll come out. Okay?”

  She nods and leaves, and I sit crying and sipping my water and wondering if I’ve ruined my friendship with Sam forever. Not to mention Kent and MC and everyone else. But I don’t mind about them so much. Sam, though... the thought of not having him in my life any more rips at my heart.

  The alcohol fog doesn’t sweep in to cover me this time, and by the time I’ve finished the water I feel sure I won’t be sick again. But I’m still sick at heart. Strangely, I don’t feel weird about seeing Aaron. I don’t care at all. His opinion means nothing to me.

  Sam’s, on the other hand... He doesn’t understand my need for revenge, and I don’t even understand how my plot was going to work this time so how can I possibly explain to him why I did what I did?

  As if on cue since I’m thinking about him, the woman he sent returns. “How are you?”

  I nod. “I think I’ll live. You don’t, um, have gum or a mint, do you?”

  She smiles, but she seems distracted. “I do, actually.” She fishes in her purse and finds a box of tiny mints, and I gratefully take two and am thrilled to find that their taste doesn’t make me feel sick again. “Yeah, I’m better. I’m okay.”

  “Good,” she says, “because all hell’s broken loose out there.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  She’s right. I walk out of the club with her, feeling embarrassed and stupid though hardly anyone turns to look at the ‘girl who puked’, and arrive on the sidewalk outside to find chaos.

  Liv is hugging Summer, who’s crying so hard she can barely breathe, while MC stands beside them with horror on her face. Kent and his brother Ron stand watching with matching furious expressions, and everyone else hovers looking like they want to help but don’t know how. Aaron is nowhere to be seen, and I feel like someone else is missing but I can’t figure out who.

  Sam comes over to me, his eyes cool but also concerned. “Are you okay?”

  I nod, blinking back sudden tears. “I’m an idiot. But thanks for the water.”

  The woman who’d brought it to me pats me on the shoulder and heads off to her man, and Sam lays his hand on that same shoulder and says, “Are you sure? He didn’t... drug you or something?”

  “Didn’t even think of that.”

  Rage explodes into Sam’s eyes, and I pull back, startled. Not even seeing Eric and Melinda made him that angry. “What?”

  He takes a deep breath and calms himself, while I wonder whether his anger means he cares about me. Cared, anyhow. He can’t now, after what I did right in front of him. “Just... you really don’t think he did?”

  Sadly, I’ve gotten hammered often enough to recognize the signs. “No. I really don’t. I’m just a terrible drunk. Terrible person.”

  He starts to protest but I say, “Forget it, I am. But what happened?” and flick my eyes toward Summer to explain what I mean.

  “You aren’t--”

  “I am,” I say, my disgust at myself forcing the word out louder than I’d intended. More calmly, I add, “And I’m sorry and I want to explain but I don’t know how. So for now, just tell me what’s going on.”

  Sam looks at me, his eyes serious and sad, then sighs and rubs his hand across his mouth. “She saw Aaron kissing her best friend. Kia.”

  I didn’t see that, which means he went from me to her. Maybe she can hold her liquor better than I can. “Oh. Did she see...”

  I can’t keep going, but he shakes his head. “She was outside getting some fresh air when you and he were...” He doesn’t finish.

  “Sam, I’m so sorry,” I say, my eyes filling with tears again. “I’m a mess and I don’t deserve having you around and I’ve ru
ined everything. I’m horrible.”

  For a second he says nothing, while I feel myself whimper inside at the thought of losing him, then his arm goes around my shoulders and he pulls me against him. “You aren’t. You really aren’t. Aaron, though... it turns out that Summer won’t... perform, let’s say, and so he set out to show her how many other women want to give him what she won’t.”

  This makes my stomach twist again. I’d figured he was trying to make Summer jealous, but to set out so coldly and deliberately to collect kisses to get revenge? That’s brutal.

  My stomach lurches harder. It sure is. And it’s what I did too. I’m no better than he is.

  I can’t handle that thought, so I force it away and think about the rest of what Sam said. Aaron and Summer weren’t sleeping together right from the night of the reunion show? She was so open about her love of sex on the island, to the point of embarrassing herself, so it surprises me that she didn’t take advantage of it when Aaron offered. “I... don’t know what to say.”

  “Yeah,” Sam says softly, “me either.”

  I lean into him and my eyes tear up again as the reality of what I’ve done hits me full force. I am just as bad as Aaron, maybe even worse because I go after revenge all the time and he just did it tonight. I hate myself.

  But how do you not go after revenge when people wrong you? How do you just let them win? Even the thought of letting Will and Videvideoo walk away with no punishment makes me furious all over again. They deserve to be punished, and if I don’t do it, who will?

  As I struggle to imagine how I could ignore what they’ve done to me, Summer pulls away from Liv and wipes her eyes. “They’re gone, right? They’re not here any more?”