Emily grins. “Or he’s a mean bastard and is sick of being the only one to have an incident on those stairs. I mean look at them. How?” She leaves the word hanging in the air and blinks at the short staircase.
“Hey!” I point at her. “Don’t be like that. People with bad luck can’t help it. All sorts of shit happens to me. I must have been a total bitch in a past life.”
Emily giggles and falls forward, pressing her head to the bar and then looking up at me. The dark makeup around her eyes is a little smeared. “You? Like Chelsey? Bacon! I mean, what the fuck is wrong with her? We need to send some bad mojo her way!”
“I’m working on it. If there’s one thing you should remember about me, it’s that I never forget a damned thing.”
I’m looking down at the bottom of my third Long Island Iced Tea and wondering if I can do another. I skipped dinner and went straight for the booze. As it is, I have a pretty good buzz going on. Each drink has, what, four shots of alcohol? So that means I’ve had around—twelve—shots so far. Wait. That can’t be right.
I frown. Okay, maybe I’m a little more than tipsy. I can’t seem to do math, and the bar might be swaying a little bit. Fuck it. I lift my hand, and the bartender sees me and brings another drink. What the hell, right? I can still think and I’d rather not.
“You shouldn’t take shit from anyone. Life’s too short.” Emily knocks back another shot of her weird black, tar-looking drink. She slaps it down hard on the wood. The little cup slips off the bar and falls, and then bounces off the wooden floor, before rolling onto the carpet.
“I got it.” I jump up from my perch and follow the empty cup like a toddler trying to catch a butterfly. I don’t think it’s going to jump up and fly away, but I can’t seem to convince my hands to drop. When I’m right above it, I accidentally kick the thing. “Fuck.” It skitters across the room, bounces off a wall, and clunks down the stairs.
Emily starts laughing and waving a finger at me. “Do not go over there. You’ll die, Kerry!” The giggles get the better of her, and she starts laughing into her arm.
“Oh, shut up, you—you.” Great come back. I shake my head and plop my sneakers across the floor to the far side of the room and grab the railing. I’m about to head down the short flight of stairs when I feel a hand on my back.
“Kerry?”
That voice. I want to melt into him. I turn around, and Nate is there, dressed in the same outfit as earlier. His hair is messy, and his lips are swollen.
I blink at him. “Did you have sex? Wow, my voice is loud.” I glance around looking for a reason why my voice fills the room. I half expect to find a floating bullhorn in front of my face, but there’s nothing.
“Yes, it is.”
I turn toward him--at least that was the plan. Now I’m leaning on him, and poking my finger into his stomach. “Well, Mr. Teacher, your lips are puffy. Did you finally get some?”
He smiles and looks back at the room and then at me. “My love life is not open for discussion at the moment.”
“Mine is. Do you know why? Because there’s nothing to tell.” I frown and feel my bottom lip jut out. “I look like a crazy jock chick with my sweats and sneakers, and guys are afraid of Emily. At the rate things are going, I’m going to end up fucking her tonight.”
Nate clears his throat and coughs into his hand. “Oh? I didn’t know women interested you.”
Still pouting, I explain, “They don’t. Well, that’s not entirely true. I like breasts.”
He’s grinning, still holding me up. “Who doesn’t?”
&n
bsp; I point at him like he understands me. “But I need more than that. Besides, I have my own. I want the scent of a guy on my body and everything from the sweat, to the fucking—I’m just not into girls. I'd be willing to make an exception to get over Matt, but, then he’d take credit for turning me gay, and tell people I totally lost my shit and swore off men after he dumped me.”
Nate laughs. “I’m sorry, but if he’s the only guy you’ve been with and you decided to hit for the other team because of him, that doesn’t say he has much to offer the female half of the world.”
My shoulders slump, and I’m ready to cry. “That’s not what my mom said!”
“Is that a joke? Because I think you told it wrong.” He cocks his head to the side and tries to see my face to tell if I’m serious, but I’m leaning against his chest.
Tears spring from my eyes and I shake my head. “No, it’s not. I’m the joke. I can’t do this, Nate. How am I supposed to look at them? How am I supposed to act like it doesn’t matter when it does? They both stabbed me in the back, and they want me to be happy for them. I can’t do it.” I have a slight tug at the back of my mind. It’s the voice of self-preservation telling me to shut the hell up, but I can’t. Everything comes pouring out, and I keep thinking he already knows all of this stuff. Everyone else does.
“So don’t.” His hands are on my shoulders, steadying me. “Hey, calm down, Kerry. It’ll be all right.”
Tears and snot mix on my cheeks, and I know I look like a train wreck. “No, it won’t. Don’t you get it? They’re coming here this weekend to see me and stay with me. I can’t even think about it, never mind live it. There’s only so much a person can take, and I’m bent so far past my breaking point I can literally kiss my own ass!” I’m crelling, that oh-so-sexy, snotified cry-yell of a crazy chick.
His hands squeeze my shoulders, and his voice is like a warm blanket. “Stay with me. Don’t go home until they’re gone.”
Flabbergasted, I gape at him, jaw dragging on the carpet while trailing a line of shiny drool. “I’m sorry,” I laugh and cry more, “but I’m hallucinating now. I’d also like to sleep with you and forget all this shit, but you kicked me to the curb more than once already. Can you hear me?” I wave my fingers in front of his face. I’m starting to think that fourth drink was a bad idea. Oh, God! My fingers are by his nose! I giggle through the tears and wiggle my fingertips.