"She's gone," she hissed into the receiver. "Hurry, please," she demanded before abruptly hanging up on me.
"What was that about?" Nathan asked.
"Tressa. She's totally freaking out. She wants us to come now. Do you mind?" I asked, trying to ignore where our conversation had been going before my phone had interrupted it.
"Nah. I still owe her for the other night," he said, signaling our waitress for the check.
The waitress brought us to-go boxes with the check, not commenting on the sudden departure. Whatever Nathan had been about to say was forgotten as we headed to the small club where we were supposed to meet Tressa and her date. I certainly wasn't going to bring it up. I just wanted to put it out of my mind as we made our way through the smoky room looking for Tressa.
"Ashton, over here," a voice called out to our left as we were halfway to the bar.
"I'm so glad you made it," she said, giving me an exuberant hug that seemed a little too forced.
"You okay?" I whispered in her ear.
"No. I'm a complete wreck. I'm sure he thinks I'm a total assface," she whispered before releasing me. "Ashton, I'd like you to meet Travis. Travis goes to school with me. Travis, this is my friend, Ashton and her friend, Nathan," Tressa said in a rush, trying to get all the introductions out in one breath.
"Nice to meet you, man," Nathan said, reaching past me to shake Travis's hand.
"Same here," Travis answered, pumping Nathan's hand before releasing it and reaching for mine. "Ashton, I've heard all about you," Travis said, sliding back in the booth next to Tressa after running his eyes down my frame before settling on my breasts. I rolled my eyes.
"Really?" I asked, sliding in across from Tressa.
"Yeah, I was telling him about your bucket list," Tressa said, biting back a yelp when I kicked her under the table. She clammed up immediately. Travis, unfortunately, who was oblivious to my silent insistence, took up where she'd left off.
"It's seems pretty fucked up to me," he said, taking a drink. I resisted the urge to kick him also. "I expected you to be all decked out in black, all morbid-like. Don't get me wrong, some Goth chicks are hot," he added.
"Your list is a bucket list?" Nathan asked, looking confused.
"It's for a paper I plan on writing," I lied, wishing the floor would open up and swallow me.
"Yeah, some kind of thesis thing," Tressa interjected, trying to be helpful, knowing she'd put her foot in her mouth. "So, what movie did you guys see?" she asked as Nathan continued to study me.
Keeping my eyes averted from his, I went into a lengthy discussion about the movie, hoping to keep the conversation from returning to my list. I doubted he would figure out the true nature of the significance of the list, but a nagging voice in my head kept taunting me, reminding me he was a reporter. If he tried hard enough, he'd be able to connect all the dots. I would have to tell him the truth before he figured it out.
"Shit, I guess we don't need to go see it," Travis quipped after I finished describing the movie.
"Oops, sorry. I guess I went a little overboard," I apologized, even though I really wasn't sorry. As long as the conversation was far from my list, I was happy.
"It's all good. We probably wouldn't have seen it anyway. It sounds boring. More of an older people flick. No offense," he said, turning toward Nathan.
"None taken," Nathan said dryly, signaling the waitress for a drink as I stifled a laugh.
"So, Travis, what's your major?" I asked, changing the subject.
"I'm a psych major. My dad's been a shrink forever, and that's where the bucks are. The money almost makes up for having to hear people whine all day long," he answered, downing the rest of his beer. "Hey babe, can I get another brewski?" he interrupted the waitress as she was taking Nathan's drink order.
"No problem," she said, shooting him a "you're a total douchebag" look. I couldn't have agreed with her more. I couldn't believe that Tressa had somehow managed to find a bigger asshole than Jackson.
As the evening dragged on, it became clear my instincts about Travis were dead on. He was the typical loudmouth, thinking everything he said was either witty or insightful words of wisdom. He was way off target on both. He was like the thing that wouldn't shut up. By the time we were on our third drink, I had decided that a Brazilian bikini wax while I had electric shock treatments to the eyes would have been less painful.
"I need to go to the bathroom," I told Nathan, shooting Tressa a meaningful look.
"Oh, me too," she said, catching my hint.
Travis said something derogatory under his breath as he slid out of the booth so Tressa could get out.
We weaved our way through the crowd, around a bunch a frat boys who were already past the toasted stage. Several of them called after us, but we ignored them as we made our way to the bathroom.