“Old enough to be your—” He stops himself before he can say it. “well, let’s just leave it at old enough.” He tops off our drinks even though they were only half empty. His expression tells me he’s about to go where I had hoped to avoid, and I’ll need the drink to get through it. “So, have you been in the garage yet?”
“Nope.” I pop the ‘p’ hard and then take a big ass swig, trying to numb any emotions before they even have a chance to surface. It’s the middle of happy hour, though, which means watered down drinks. I won’t get numb with these, but luckily, I have a joint on me. I can’t get out of this conversation, but at least I can handle the crowd later. “I haven’t had the time.”
“You’re going to have to go in there at some point. You don’t have to face it alone, Jamie. Any of it.”
I’ve known that for six months. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m terrified to open those doors and look inside. In my pocket, my fingers brush against the card Sam gave me earlier, and I think about calling the guy. I won’t, though. There’s nothing left for me in that garage, nothing left of me. That part of me is gone, and no therapist is going to bring that back. I may have the itch to draw again, but it’s a passing phase and as soon as I get Lexi to think I’m an asshole and truly unworthy of her time, it will fade again.
“Yeah, I will. Once things settle down a little.”
Sam takes another phone call and while I sit at the table, I pull my phone out and read the texts I’ve been ignoring.
Unknown Number
The house looks like shit. You should tear it down.
I may be in town again soon. I can help. ????
I delete the messages and distract myself by looking at the picture Dani had sent earlier. I shouldn’t go tonight. I can tell Dani I drank too much with Sam. Even as I try to convince myself of that plan, I know it won’t happen because I can’t stop looking into those eyes. They’re haunting and beautiful, and they’re bringing something in me back to life. It’s terrifying. Somewhere deep down there’s the spark of hope trying hard to grow inside me, and I need to find a way to stop it. Hope is the worst thing in the whole fucking world. Right next to love. They both hurt so fucking much.
Unknown Number
Aww, you don’t want to come out and play?
Not even going to ask why I’m coming to town?
You’re fucking pathetic!
I can’t ignore them, so I turn off the phone for now and wait for Sam to come back.
CHAPTER8
STUPID GIRL
P!NK
I graba can of soda out of the fridge, surprised there’s even one in there since I can’t remember the last time I bought soda. Or took a trip to the damn grocery store. I crack it open, half expecting it to explode all over me, and take a long drink that makes my eyes water. The caffeine surging through me will hopefully calm the headache that’s already scratching at my brain.
There’s a knock at the door, but before I can even saycome in, Dani is pushing through, tossing her bag on my couch and kicking off her shoes.
“Do you think Sam will murder me if I call in sick tomorrow? I want to get absolutely shit faced tonight and crash on your couch,” she asks, walking through the apartment like she lives here. Checking the fridge, she finds it empty except for the barbecue sauce and an emergency pack of Reese’s peanut butter cups. She knows better than to eat the candy, though. That’s grounds for murder. Slamming the door shut, she grabs the can of soda from me, gulping half of it down without batting an eye. “Seriously, Lex? Dude, they clean dirty grills off with this shit. Also, how do you not even have chips in this house!”
“Yes, seriously. I’ve been…busy.” I snatched the can back from her.“Besides, it was part of my emergency food stash. Caffeine and chocolate. And peanut butter.”
“Sweetie, you are aware grocery delivery is a thing, right? You don’t even have to talk to them. They’ll leave it right outside your door.” She makes a face at the taste of the soda. “This stuff should only be used as a mixer. Where’s the booze?”
“This was the only mixer I had. So now, we have to drink straight whiskey, which you complain about every time.”
“It’s not my fault you don’t keep limes in your house! Or anything else, for that matter! Just split what’s left.” She tugs the freezer open and rolls her eyes. “You don’t even have ice?”
My head falls back as I sigh, heading over to a small cabinet in the corner and grabbing the half-full bottle of Jameson. All I do here is sleep and shower. I don’t keep food here because I pick it up on the way home or walk out and get something. Food would mean cooking, and I hate cooking for myself. “Wait, why are we pre-gaming when they have free booze?”
“Because I have a secret! It’s about the guest list for tonight, and I’m not going to tell you about it. All I will say is you should drink up.” She spins on her heel and heads out of the kitchen, skipping toward the bedroom. “Pour those, and I’ll meet you in the living room; I need to pee.”
Since she drank most of our mixer, and I’m already dreading what comes next, I pour us both doubles. She doesn’t have to pee; she has to go through my closet. Which means she’s about to find the two bags of awful clothes my mother dropped off last week. I take a drink from the bottle to prepare myself. I think about her guest list comment and realize Kennedy must be who she’s talking about and take another long pull.
As I expected, Dani parades out of the bedroom a few minutes later. She’s holding a dress from the bag my mother brought me in front of her. It’s beyond hideous. There’s a floral pattern reminiscent of a tablecloth, a neckline that goes to the eyeballs, long sleeves with puffy shoulders, and a pleather belt to tie it all together. My mother’s taste is veryreligious martyr in spring.
“I do declare!” She says in the worst southern accent I’ve ever heard before fainting on the couch. “Oh, lawd, I’ve got the vapahs! Oh, Rhett! What shall I do? Mrs. Daisy, oh lawd! The scandal of it all! Why, they can surely see mah ankles in this abomination of a frock!”
