The Upside of Being Let Down (new adult romance - 1) (3 page)

(4)

I touched the back of my head and
half expected to feel a bald spot from the drunk bitch with the fast hands. I
never understood why girls always had to pull hair. I mean, we spend so much
time doing our hair and taking care of it... it felt so cheap to grab for it.
Like a guy that kicks another guy in the balls.

I drove away from the strip club.

I stopped at the first coffee shop
I could find and went through the drive-thru. I ordered a large coffee, extra
cream, three sugars. It was the only way to drink coffee. I parked the car
across the street from the coffee place and killed my lights. I opened the lid
and inhaled the warm, sugary, bitter smell of the coffee. It made my eyes pop
open and I sighed in relief.

Couldn
’
t life just be that?

That sense of relief. That sense of
whatever. That sense of not caring about anything but the cup in your hand and
the thought in your mind.

My thought was about Bryan.

I was beyond thinking about how
sexy he looked. I kept thinking about what probably happened after I left. I
seriously kicked a hornets nest back there and walked away, didn
’
t I?

I mean, in my defense, even alone
in my car, I felt I needed a defense - I didn
’
t
do anything wrong. I had been minding my own business waiting for my sister to
finish her stripping shift (if that
’
s
what they called it). Then Mr. Confident bumps my elbow and tries flirting and
I
’
m the bad person?

Did I need to throw that drink in
his face?

Well...

Yes. I did.

Because the next time he tries
buying a drink for another woman while his drunk girlfriend is stumbling around
a strip club maybe he
’
ll
think twice. If anything I did him and his girlfriend a favor.

As far as Bryan though... damn.

I pictured his wide shoulders and
chiseled jaw. I didn
’
t
think anything would happen to that face since Mr. Confident covered in the
drink looked half Bryan
’
s
size. If he was stupid enough to try something, I
’
m
sure Bryan would have decked him once or twice.

Or three times
…

It started to turn me on thinking
about it.

I sipped the coffee, burned my top
lip, yelled
fuck,
and then put it down in the console.

It felt too early to go home and
deal with Angela but too late to go anywhere else. I was like stuck between
timeframes. Like a traveling lost soul. Like one of those people who die but
don
’
t cross over.

The thought freaked me out and
after two more hot sips of coffee I knew it was best to head to the apartment.
By the time I
’
d get home,
the coffee would be warm enough to drink. Then I could survive Angela
’
s bitch barrage with a coffee.

I already had my sorry speech in my
head and if worst came to worst I
’
d
used Wicked as an excuse. I mean, for someone like Angela - perfect, prim,
proper, stinking of virgin - the thought of my sister being stripper terrified
her. I hated throwing that out there in a conversation with Angela, but if it
got her to shut up so I could get to my big, comfy bed for some sleep, I
’
d do it.

Sleep wouldn
’
t fix a thing, but it sure felt good.

Kind of like Bryan.

I almost swerved off the road when
the thought came to me. How would I ever see him again? I knew his first name,
not even his last name. I could describe him, but I would sound pathetic and
obsessed talking about his eyes, lips, and jaw.

However, I was too much of a mess
for a guy to want to willingly step into my life. Not that it mattered, because
I wasn
’
t looking for a guy.
Not as much as I was looking for a place to go and a purpose to fulfill.

I knew the list of people I
’
d have to face in the near
future... from Angela to Winnie to my parents, who didn
’
t care but would pretend to care for the sake of
saying they said something and acted like they cared.

Ugh. Whatever.

I purposely drove by the street
that led to the apartment. I needed the extra quarter of a mile to the next
turn. I wasn
’
t sure why I
needed it, but I did. I had the radio off and my coffee was still too hot to
drink. Part of me wanted to sneak back to the strip club and see if anything
had happened. That way I could still find a way to talk to Winnie and talk to
her.

By then I had turned right and was
creeping closer to
home sweet home
. I parked the car, grabbed my coffee,
and got out. I looked at the tan brick building. I knew which windows were
which since all the apartments were the same. Two living room windows, two
bedroom windows, and one bathroom window.

I walked up the small set of steps
to the second floor landing. During the day the halls stunk of old paint and
dirt. At night, it had a cool musty smell to it. It made me wonder what kind of
deadly stuff we breathed each time we came and went. The halls and steps looked
like they hadn
’
t been
cleaned in years even though if you visited the front office they
’
d promise luxury living at an
affordable price. I
’
m not
quite sure what luxury they were used to though because this wasn
’
t it.

I opened the second floor door and
that lead to a small hallway with eight doors.

Eight doors, eight apartments,
eight different stories and lives.

Angela and I lived in the first
apartment on the left.

Or so I thought.

I stopped and puckered my lips at
the sight of four boxes on the floor. My red lamp stuck out of one of the
boxes, the matching colored lampshade tilted. I peered over into the boxes and
saw picture frames, rolled up posters of bands and movies I liked, along with
books and my laptop.

Next to the boxes was a blanket and
pillow.

My blanket and pillow.

I looked at the door, staring at
the way the
‘
B
’
was just a couple centimeters
lower than the
‘
1.
’

Of all the things to notice right
then, that
’
s what hit me.

I kicked at one of the boxes and
let out a laugh.

The bottom two boxes had all my
clothes in them. Every single piece of clothing... right down to my leopard
print and lime green thong that I only wore when I didn
’
t do laundry. They were my final reminder to do
laundry. What guy would want a leopard print lime green bra and panty girl?
That
’
s sheer desperation. However,
that wasn
’
t always a bad
thing, if you were able to be desperate with the right person.

The right person.

I couldn
’
t think about finding
the right person,
because
I had no idea who I even was.

I wasn
’
t even worthy of being called a college dropout,
was I?

I was a... college kick out.

I looked at the boxes and then to
the closed door.

It was pretty obvious what the
boxes meant. But if I needed a little closure, in case my head wasn
’
t functioning properly, Angela
took the time to write me a quick note and taped it to one of the flaps on the
boxes.

Sorry it had to come to this

I mean, come on, right?

What the hell was it all about? Did
she have to write it like that? Even in a quick scribbled note Angela sounded
like a bitch.

I took out my keys and held them up.
I stared at my car key and I stared at a silver ring that I used to wear on my ring
finger in high school because I was just
oh-so
freaking cool. The silver
ring now had no purpose besides being a key chain for me.

The problem was that there was no
other key attached.

No apartment key.

That was on my desk. In the
apartment. In my bedroom. Or my old bedroom, whatever the hell it was now.

I dangled the car key in front of
my face and growled.

I hated being so naive sometimes. I
could picture the apartment key on my desk. And of course, I could picture
myself walking out of the bedroom without the key knowing damn well that Angela
would be in the apartment to let me in.

Why didn
’
t I grab the key before I left?

Because I needed to get out.

I needed to get out of the
apartment before Angela got home. I needed to find food, a place to think, and
then see Wicked at the strip club. It had been all planned out in my mind yet
none of it went according to that plan.

I slipped my car key back in my
pocket and knocked on the door.

I waited the standard three, maybe
four seconds.

Angela didn
’
t come to the door.

Angela didn
’
t say a word.

I didn
’
t expect her to.

I knocked again, this time longer
and added,
“
Angela, it
’
s me. It
’
s AJ. Open up.
”

I waited longer this time, nine
seconds.

Still nothing.

I knocked again, and again, and
yes, again I called Angela
’
s
name. I stuck my eye to the peephole, wishing I could see inside the apartment.
I didn
’
t know if she was
sleeping. I didn
’
t know if
she was huddled on the couch with her eyes shut, wishing me away.

When I finally relaxed, I looked
back down to the boxes and shook my head.

This was how she was going to end
it.

Not even a quick conversation. Not
even a chance for me to tell her I could pay the rest of the lease out and
figure out my plan. All I needed from that point was a job and maybe some focus
to get back into college. It wasn
’
t
that big of a deal. It certainly wasn
’
t
worthy enough to come home and find boxes outside the door.

Then it hit me.

My desk.

My top right drawer.

I fell to my knees and started to
scramble, digging through the top box.

I found papers, notebooks, stupid
little pin up things that I had collected. Some comic strips out of the Sunday
paper. Random articles that meant nothing to life.

“
Where
the fuck is it?
”
I mumbled.

I took a breath and looked at the
door. I started to wonder how strong the door was. How much force it would take
to take it down. I could do it. I could get inside.

Shit... I wished I could call the
front office.

The emergency number.

Tell them I was locked out.

Nope.

I couldn
’
t do that.

The apartment was solely in Angela
’
s name.

We did it that way because she had
a job. I was just a roommate. A no-name. A nothing to the lease and the
apartment.

Fuck.

I lifted the box and dumped it.

Stuff scattered and I didn
’
t care. I spread papers across
the floor, wanting to cry. I wanted to let it all go. I wanted to scream my way
into a different time and different place.

But then I saw it.

Small.

Black.

Everything.

I touched it and curled it in my
hand. I kissed my hand like some moron, looking up at a cracked ceiling that
looked ready to let go any second.

I sighed.

I laughed.

I looked at the mess on the floor
and started to clean it up.

I put the small black flash drive
into my pocket and vowed never to let it go again. That drive had something on
it that I had been working on for a long time. Something that could be
something or something that could be nothing. Like life. Go figure.

After cleaning up the mess I made,
I stood and turned to face the apartment door again. I thought about knocking
but had a better idea.

Call her.

I smiled.

I could drive her nuts.

Sure, she could put the phone on
silent and ignore me once and for all but it was worth a shot. I could always
switch to texting and leave her a nice piece of my mind to read again and
again.

I touched my pocket, looking for my
phone.

I felt my key... I felt the flash
drive... no phone.

Then I remembered I had my cell
phone in my back pocket. I touched my butt and felt nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

The car.

I hurried through the door, down
the steps, and outside. I opened my car and started searching. The seat, the
console, the small space between the seat and the console. The space between
the door and seat.

Nothing.

I moved the seat forward. I moved
the seat back. I even looked on the ground.

My cell phone was nowhere to be
found.

And just like that I had lost
college, my apartment, and my cell phone.

Happy fucking night.

(5)

Bryan pulled into the parking spot
and gripped the steering wheel. He looked back at Jeff passed out in the
backseat. He looked at Gary checking sports scores and fantasy stats on his
cell phone. He felt like throwing the cell phone out the window.

He touched his left leg and felt
the outline of the cell phone.

It wasn
’
t Bryan
’
s
cell phone.

It was AJ
’
s.

The cell phone he picked up off the
floor at the club.

He checked it -
he had to
-
and after scrolling through the first set of messages, it was confirmed to be
AJ
’
s cell phone. Someone
named Angela had text her yesterday and used her name.

All Bryan needed to do now was get
rid of Gary and Jeff and then find a way to figure out where AJ lived. There
had to be something in the phone, right? Or not. Or maybe once AJ realized her
phone was missing she
’
d
call it. Bryan could answer. Mess around with her. Flirt with her. Tease her.

“
What
are you doing, man?
”
Bryan
asked as his knuckles turned white from gripping the steering wheel.

“
Checking,
”
Gary said in a robotic voice.

“
Check
inside. Get Jeff out of here.
”

“
What?
”
Gary asked.
“
You want me...
”
Gary slipped his phone into his
pocket and looked back at Jeff.
“
I
can
’
t carry him. He
’
s dead weight.
”

“
Come
on, you can carry Jeff.
”

“
No,
I can
’
t.
”

Bryan gripped the wheel tighter and
he looked at his right arm. He saw his muscles flexing and he gritted his
teeth. He had two choices. He could argue with Gary for ten minutes, ultimately
win, and then get to watch Gary struggle and literally drag jeff into the
apartment. The second option was to just to shut his goddamn mouth and carry
Jeff by himself.

As Bryan opened the door to his car
he told himself that giving AJ her cell phone better be worth it. Then again,
knowing the way she acted at the club, she
’
d
take the phone, slap Bryan in the face, and leave.

Even if that happened, it would be
worth it.

Something about AJ just clicked for
Bryan.

And surprisingly, Bryan
’
s thoughts were far away from
the bedroom.

Bryan opened the backdoor and
pulled at Jeff
’
s legs. Jeff
stirred and let out a slur of curses.

“
Shut
up,
”
Bryan said.

He let Jeff
’
s legs hang limp almost to the ground and then he
grabbed his wrists and pulled, sitting Jeff up. Jeff sat up and let out a
gurgle and Bryan jumped back just as Jeff
’
s
stomach let go.

“
Fuck!
”
Bryan cried out.

Jeff slumped forward and to the
ground, throwing up the entire time. When he stopped, he was covered in vomit.
He was on his side, on the ground against the fade yellow line of the parking
spot.

Bryan leaned against his car and
shook his head. He could almost feel his leg burning, desperate to get the hell
out of the parking lot to find AJ.

“
Gary,
let
’
s go,
”
he cried out.

Gary emerged from the car and
walked around. When he saw the vomit on the ground he jumped back and touched
he throat like he had just inhaled poisonous gas.

“
What
the fuck?
”
he yelled.
“
I
’
m
not...
”

Bryan growled.

He crouched down and grabbed Jeff
’
s shirt. He pulled it up over
Jeff
’
s head, smearing some
of the vomit on Jeff
’
s
face. With the shirt off and inside out, he did his best to clean Jeff up, so
he could carry his drunk friend.

“
I
can
’
t believe I
’
m doing this,
”
Bryan said as he balled the
shirt up.

“
That
’
s so gross,
”
Gary said.
“
So nasty. Fuck.
”

Bryan looked up at Gary. He stood
with his hands in his pockets and Bryan reached his breaking point. He threw
the shirt at Gary. Gary jumped back but the shirt hit him. Nothing ended up on
Gary, but he screamed like a girl. When he tried to kick the shirt it opened
and left some vomit on his black shoe.

The shirt then went sailing into
the air and landed in the middle of the parking lot.

“
I
’
m not touching that,
”
Gary said.

“
What
the fuck do I care? This isn
’
t
my apartment.
”

“
This
is nasty,
”
Gary said.

“
Nasty...
and I
’
m the one cleaning
him up and trying to carry him.
”

Bryan grabbed Jeff
’
s wrists again.

“
Jeff,
buddy, I
’
m going to pick
you up,
”
Bryan said.
“
If you throw up on me, I
’
ll kill you. Literally kill you.
”

Gary laughed and Jeff slurred.

Bryan looked at Gary.
“
If he pukes on me I
’
m going to drop him in your bed.
”

“
Dude...
”

Bryan lifted Jeff and started to
carry him. He carried him like they were just married, taking him across the
threshold. As Bryan walked, Jeff made noises. He stunk of booze and vomit.

Gary managed to hurry by Bryan,
doing his part by opening the door to the apartment. Bryan bent down and
dropped Jeff to the floor.

“
Bryan...
”

“
Fuck
it,
”
Bryan said.
“
That
’
s where he
’
s
staying.
”

Bryan walked into the bathroom and
washed his hands. He felt his pocket vibrate and jumped.

It wasn
’
t his phone.

His phone was in the car.

It was AJ
’
s phone.

“
Shit,
”
he whispered.

He licked his lips as he tried to
convince himself not to check it.

What if it was something important?

From a friend... from family...

Or what if it was AJ texting,
looking for her phone?

Bryan smiled and touched his
pocket. He took the phone out and looked at the message.

It was from Angela.

And it didn
’
t look like a good message at all.

Sorry about everything AJ. If
you can find a way to get your bed and desk out, great. If not... whatever

Bryan
’
s
eyes widened and he read the message again.

That wasn
’
t good at all.

Bryan left the bathroom, the cell
phone tucked in his pocket. Gary was back looking at his cell phone. Bryan
smacked the phone from his hand.

“
Fuck,
dude!
”
Gary yelled.

“
Have
a good night,
”
Bryan said.

He stepped over Jeff and left the
apartment.

Before he could get to his car, he
took AJ
’
s phone back out of
his pocket.

There had to be something there.

He started with the messages. If
felt so wrong and intrusive to read someone else
’
s
messages, but he assured himself that it had purpose.

There were messages from Angela,
Steph, Rachael, Mike, Winnie, Mom, and Beth.

None of them contained anything
that seemed to have value... except something about Winnie taking her clothes
off. It sounded kind of hot and left Bryan wondering just how wild AJ could be.
Bryan felt tempted to keep going, to read more into the messages, especially
the ones with Winnie.

But he knew better.

He didn
’
t want to be a total creep when he eventually found
AJ.

Then a thought came to him.

Was a cell phone really that
important anymore? Sure, having a cell phone was important, but the actual cell
phone meant nothing. AJ could just wake up in the morning and go get a new
phone.

Bryan didn
’
t want to believe that.

It had to mean something that he
held AJ
’
s cell phone. It
had to have purpose.

Bryan closed the messages and
looked at the home screen. He saw the icon for email and he clicked it.

That
’
s
where it all paid off.

The first email was from the Dean
at school. Bryan tried to imagine if he
’
d
seen AJ in class before. Not that he could remember. A quick scan of the email
gave the impression that AJ used to go to college. But the second email was the
one. It was a send and reply thread going back months that finally had an email
AJ had written about moving to her new apartment. The address change form
opened and Bryan had it.

Her address.

He sat in his car and stared at it.

It made him smile, wondering what
it would be like to show up and knock on the door. AJ would answer in complete
shock.

Didn
’
t think you
’
d see me again, huh?

Bryan started to drive.

He didn
’
t want to get there too late.