Beautiful Disaster

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t do me any favors, Travis.”

“That’s not what I meant, Pidge. Date parties are for the guys with girlfriends, and it’s common knowledge that I don’t do the girlfriend-thing. But I won’t have to worry about you expecting an engagement ring afterward.”

America jutted her lip out. “Pretty please, Abby?”

“Don’t look at me like that!” I complained. “Travis doesn’t want to go, I don’t want to go…we won’t be much fun.”

Travis crossed his arms and leaned against the sink. “I didn’t say I didn’t want to go. I think it’d be fun if the four of us went,” he shrugged.

Everyone’s eyes focused on me, and I recoiled. “Why don’t we hang out here?”

America pouted and Shepley leaned forward. “Because I have to go, Abby. I’m a freshman; I have to make sure everything’s moving smoothly, everyone has a beer in their hand, things like that.”

Travis walked across the kitchen and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me to his side. “C’mon, Pidge. Will you go with me?”

I looked at America, then at Shepley, and finally to Travis. “Yes,” I sighed.

America squealed and hugged me, and then I felt Shepley’s hand on my back. “Thanks, Abby,” Shepley said.

CHAPTER THREE cheap shot

Finch took another drag. The smoke flowed from his nose in two thick streams. I angled my face toward the sun as he regaled me with the recent weekend of dancing, booze and a very persistent new friend.

“If he’s stalking you, then why do you let him buy you drinks?” I laughed.

“It’s simple, Abby. I’m broke.”

I laughed again, and Finch jabbed his elbow into my side when he caught sight of Travis walking toward us.

“Hey, Travis,” Finch lilted, winking at me.

“Finch,” he nodded. He dangled his keys. “I’m headed home, Pidge. You need a ride?”

“I was just going in,” I said, grinning up at him through my sunglasses.

“You’re not staying with me tonight?” he asked, his face a combination of surprise and disappointment.

“No, I am. I just had to grab a few things that I forgot.”

“Like what?”

“Well, my razor for one. What do you care?”

“It’s about time you shaved your legs. They’ve been tearing the hell outta mine,” he said with an impish grin.

Finch’s eyes bulged as he gave me a quick once over, and I made a face at Travis. “That’s how rumors get started!” I looked at Finch and shook my head. “I’m sleeping in his bed…just sleeping.”

“Right,” Finch said with a smug smile.

I smacked Finch’s arm before yanking the door open and climbing the stairs. By the time I reached the second floor, Travis was beside me.

“Oh, don’t be mad. I was just kidding.”

“Everyone already assumes we’re having sex. You’re making it worse.”

“Who cares what they think?”

“I do, Travis! I do!” I pushed open my door, shoved my things in a small tote, and then stormed out with Travis trailing behind. He chuckled as he took the bag from my hand, and I glared at him. “It’s not funny. Do you want the whole school to think I’m one of your sluts?”

Travis frowned. “No one thinks that. And if they do, they better hope I don’t hear about it.”

He held the door open for me, and after walking through, I stopped abruptly in front of him.

‘Whoa!” he said, slamming into me.

I flipped around. “Oh my God! People probably think we’re together and you’re shamelessly continuing you’re…lifestyle. I must look pathetic!” I said, coming to the realization as I spoke. “I don’t think I should stay with you, anymore. We should just stay away from each other in general for awhile.”

I took my bag from him and he snatched it back.

“No one thinks we’re together, Pidge. You don’t have to quit talking to me to prove a point.”

We engaged in a tug of war with the tote, and when he refused to let go, I growled loudly in frustration. “Have you ever had a girl — that’s a friend — stay with you? Have you ever given girls rides to and from school? Have you eaten lunch with them every day? No one knows what to think about us, even when we tell them!”

He walked to the parking lot, holding my effects hostage. “I’ll fix this, okay? I don’t want anyone thinking less of you because of me,” he said with a troubled expression. His eyes brightened and he smiled. “Let me make it up to you. Why don’t we go to The Dutch tonight?”

“That’s a biker bar,” I sneered, watching him fasten my tote to his bike.

“Okay, then let’s go to the club. I’ll take you to dinner and then we can go to The Red Door. My treat.”

“How will going out to dinner and then to a club fix the problem? When people see us out together it will make it worse.”

He straddled his bike. “Think about it. Me, drunk, in a room full of scantily clad women? It won’t take long for people to figure out we’re not a couple.”

“So what am I supposed to do? Take a guy home from the bar to drive the point home?”

“I didn’t say that. No need to get carried away,” he said with a frown.

I rolled my eyes and climbed onto the seat, wrapping my arms around his middle. “Some random girl is going to follow us home from the bar? That’s how you’re going to make it up to me?”

“You’re not jealous, are you, Pigeon?”

“Jealous of what? The STD infested imbecile you’re going to piss off in the morning?”

Travis laughed, and then started his Harley. He flew toward his apartment at twice the speed limit, and I closed my eyes to block out the trees and cars we left behind.

After climbing off his bike, I smacked his shoulder. “Did you forget I was with you? Are you trying to get me killed?”

“It’s hard to forget you’re behind me when your thighs are squeezing the life out of me.” A smirk came with his next thought. “I couldn’t think of a better way to die, actually.”

“There is something very wrong with you.”

We had barely made it inside when America shuffled out of Shepley’s bedroom. “We were thinking about going out tonight. You guys in?”

I looked at Travis and grinned. “We’re going to swing by the sushi place before we go to Red.”

America’s smile spanned from one side of her face to the other. “Shep!” she cried, scampering into the bathroom. “We’re going out tonight!”

I was the last one in the shower, so Shepley, America and Travis were impatiently standing by the door when I stepped out of the bathroom in a black dress and hot pink heels.

America whistled. “Hot damn, Mama!”

I smiled in appreciation, and Travis held out his hand. “Nice legs.”

“Did I mention that it’s a magic razor?”

“I don’t think it’s the razor,” he smiled, pulling me out the door.

We were far too loud and obnoxious in the sushi bar, and had already had a night’s worth to drink before we stepped foot in The Red Door. Shepley pulled into the parking lot, taking time to find a space.

“Sometime tonight, Shep,” America muttered.

“Hey. I have to find a wide space. I don’t want some drunken idiot dinging the paint.”