Beautiful Disaster 01 (20 page)

“You’ll see me tomorrow. I’ll stop by when I get back.”

He led me to the door and then kissed my cheek before he left. I noticed that Shepley, America and Travis were all staring at me.

“Daddy’s gone!” Travis yelled when the door closed. “Time to get the party started!”

Everyone cheered, and Travis pulled me to the center of the floor.

“Hang on…I’m on a schedule,” I said, leading him by the hand to the counter. I knocked back another shot, and laughed when Travis took one from the end, sucking it down. I grabbed another, and swallowed, and he did the same.

“Seven more, Abby,” Brazil said, handing me two more twenty dollar bills.

I wiped my mouth as Travis pulled me to the living room again. I danced with America, and then Shepley, but when Chris Jenks from the football team tried to dance with me, Travis pulled him back by the shirt and shook his head. Chris shrugged and turned, dancing with the first girl he saw.

The tenth shot hit hard, and I felt a little dizzy standing on Brazil’s couch with America, dancing like clumsy grade-schoolers. We giggled over nothing, waving our arms around to the beat.

I stumbled, nearly falling off the couch backward, but Travis’ hands were instantly on my hips to steady me.

“You’ve made your point,” he said. “You’ve drank more than any girl we’ve ever seen. I’m cutting you off.”

“The hell you are,” I slurred. “I have six hundred bucks waiting on me at the bottom of that shot glass, and you of all people aren’t going to tell me I can’t do something extreme for cash.”

“If you’re that hard up for money, Pidge….”

“I’m not borrowing money from you,” I sneered.

“I was gonna suggest pawning that bracelet,” he smiled.

I smacked him on the arm just as America started the countdown to midnight. When the hands of the clock superimposed on the twelve, we all celebrated.

I was nineteen.

America and Shepley kissed each side of my cheek, and Travis lifted me off the ground, twirling me around.

“Happy birthday, Pigeon,” he said with a soft expression.

I stared into his warm, brown eyes for a moment, feeling lost inside of them. The room was frozen in time as we stared at each other, so close I could feel his breath on my skin.

“Shots!” I said, stumbling to the counter.

“You look torn up, Abby. I think it’s time to call it a night,” Brazil said.

“I’m not a quitter,” I said. “I wanna see my money.”

Brazil placed a twenty under the last two glasses, and then he yelled at his teammates, “She’s gonna drink ‘em! I need fifteen!”

They all groaned and rolled their eyes, pulling out their wallets to form a stack of twenties behind the last shot glass. Travis had emptied the other four shots on the other side of my fifteen.

“I would have never believed that I could lose fifty bucks on a fifteen shot bet with a girl,” Chris complained.

“Believe it, Jenks” I said, picking up a glass in each hand.

I knocked back each of the glasses and waited for the vomit rising in my throat to settle.

“Pigeon?” Travis asked, taking a step in my direction.

I raised a finger and Brazil smiled. “She’s going to lose it,” he said.

“No she won’t,” America shook her head. “Deep breath, Abby.”

I closed my eyes and inhaled, picking up the last shot.

“Holy God, Abby! You’re going to die of alcohol poisoning!” Shepley cried.

“She’s got this,” America assured him.

I tipped my head and let the tequila flow down my throat. My teeth and lips had been numb since shot number eight, and the kick of the eighty proof had long since lost its edge. The entire party erupted into whistles and yells as Brazil handed me the stack of money.

“Thank you,” I said with pride, tucking the money away in my bra.

“You are incredibly sexy right now,” Travis said in my ear as we walked to the living room.

We danced into the morning, and the tequila running through my veins eased me into oblivion.

CHAPTER EIGHT

rumors

When my eyes finally peeled open, I saw that my pillow consisted of denim and legs. Travis sat with his back against the tub, his head leaned against the wall, passed out cold. He looked as rough as I felt. I pulled the blanket off of me and stood up, gasping at my horrifying reflection in the mirror above the sink.

I looked like death.

Mascara smeared, black tear stains down my cheek, lipstick smudged across my mouth, and my hair had balls of rats on each side.

Sheets, towels and blankets surrounded Travis. He had fashioned a soft pallet to sleep on while I expelled the fifteen shots of tequila I’d consumed the night before. Travis had held my hair out of the toilet, and sat with me all night.

I turned on the faucet, holding my hand under the water until it was the temperature I wanted. Scrubbing the mess from my face, I heard a moan from the floor. Travis stirred, rubbed his eyes and stretched, and then looked beside him, jerking in a panic.

“I’m right here,” I said. “Why don’t you go to bed? Get some sleep?”

“You okay?” he said, wiping his eyes once more.

“Yeah, I’m good. Well, good as I can be. I’ll feel better once I get a shower.”

He stood up. “You took my crazy title last night, just so you know. I don’t know where that came from, but I don’t want you to do it again.”

“It’s pretty much what I grew up around, Trav. Not a big deal.”

He took my chin in his hands and wiped the remaining smeared mascara from under my eyes with his thumbs. “It was a big deal to me.”

“Fine, I won’t do it again. Happy?”

“Yes. But, I have something to tell you, if you promise not to freak out.”

“Oh, God, what did I do?”

“Nothing, but you need to call America.”

“Where is she?”

“At Morgan. She got into it with Shep last night.”

I rushed through my shower and yanked on the clothes Travis had set on the sink. When I emerged from the bathroom, Shepley and Travis were sitting in the living room.

“What did you do to her?” I demanded.

Shepley’s face fell. “She’s really pissed at me.”

“What
happened
?”

“I was mad that she encouraged you to drink so much. I thought we were going to end up taking you to the hospital. One thing led to another, and the next thing I know, we’re screaming at each other. We were both drunk, Abby. I said some things I can’t take back,” he shook his head, looking to the floor.

“Like what?” I said, angry.

“I called her a few names I’m not proud of and then told her to leave.”

“You let her leave here drunk? Are you some kind of idiot?” I said, grabbing at my purse.

“Easy, Pidge. He feels bad enough,” Travis said.

I fished my cell phone out of my purse, dialing America’s number.

“Hello?” she answered. She sounded awful.

“I just heard,” I sighed. “Are you okay?” I walke down the hall for privacy, glancing back once to shoot a dirty look at Shepley.

“I’m fine. He’s an asshole.” Her words were abrupt, but I could hear the hurt in her voice. America had mastered the art of hiding her emotions, and she could have hidden it from anyone but me.

“I’m sorry I didn’t go with you.”

“You were out of it, Abby,” she said dismissively.

“Why don’t you come get me? We can talk about it.”

She breathed into the phone. “I don’t know. I don’t really feel like seeing him.”

“I’ll tell him to stay inside, then.”

There was a long pause, and then I heard her keys clink in the background. “All right. I’ll be there in a minute.”

I walked into the living room, pulling my purse over my shoulder. They watched me open the door to wait for America, and Shepley scooted forward on the couch.

“She’s coming here?”
“She doesn’t want to see you, Shep. I told her you’d stay inside.”

He sighed, and fell against the cushion. “She hates me.”

“I’ll talk to her. You better get one amazing apology together, though.”

Ten minutes later, a car horn beeped twice outside, and I closed the door behind me. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, Shepley rushed past me to America’s red Honda, and hunched over to see her through the window. I stopped in my tracks, watching America snub him as she looked straight ahead. She rolled down her window, and Shepley seemed to be explaining, and then they began to argue. I went inside to give them their privacy.

“Pigeon?” Travis said, trotting down the stairs.

“It doesn’t look good.”

“Let them figure it out. Come inside,” he said, intertwining his fingers in mine to lead me up the stairs.

“Was it that bad?” I asked.

He nodded. “It was pretty bad. They’re just getting out of the honeymoon stage, though. They’ll work it out.”

“For someone that’s never had a girlfriend, you seem to know about relationships.”

“I have four brothers and a lot of friends,” he said, grinning to himself.

Shepley stomped into the apartment and slammed the door behind him. “She’s fucking impossible!”

I kissed Travis on the cheek. “That’s my cue.”

“Good luck,” Travis smiled.