Jamie McGuire - Beautiful Disaster

“No we didn’t. Nothing happened,” I said, shaking my head.

He cringed, the memory obviously replaying in his mind. “You fog up Parker’s windows, I pull you out of the car, and then I try to…,” he said, shaking his head. He turned for the door and grabbed the knob, his knuckles white. “You’re turning me into a fucking psycho, Pigeon,” he growled over his shoulder. “I don’t think straight when I’m around you.”

“So it’s my fault?”

He turned. His eyes fell from my face to my robe, to my legs, and then my feet, returning to my eyes. “I don’t know. My memory is a little hazy…but I don’t recall you saying no.”

I took a step forward, ready to argue that irrelevant little fact, but I couldn’t. He was right. “What do you want me to say, Travis?”

He looked at the bracelet, and then back at me with accusing eyes. “You were hoping I wouldn’t remember?”

“No! I was pissed that you forgot!”

His brown eyes bored into mine. “Why?”

“Because if I would have…if we would have…and you didn’t…I don’t know why! I just was!”

He stormed across the room, stopping inches from me. His hands touched each side of my face, his breathing quick as he scanned my face. “What are we doin’, Pidge?”

My eyes began at his belt, and then rose over the muscles and tattoos of his stomach and chest, finally settling on the warm brown of his irises. “You tell me.”

“Abby?” Shepley said, knocking on the door. “Mare was going to run some errands, she wanted me to let you know in case you needed to go.”

Travis hadn’t taken his eyes from mine. “Pidge?”

“Yeah,” I called to Shepley. “I have some stuff I need to take care of.”

“All right, she’s ready to go when you are,” Shepley said, his footsteps disappearing down the hall.

“Pidge?”

I pulled a few things from the closet and slid past him. “Can we talk about this later? I have a lot to do today.”

“Sure,” he said with a contrived smile.

It was a relief when I reached the bathroom, hurriedly closing the door behind me. I had two weeks left in the apartment, and there was no way to put off the conversation for that long. The logical part of my brain insisted that Parker was my type: attractive, smart and interested in me. Why I bothered with Travis was something I would never understand.

Whatever the reason, it was making us both insane. I had been divided into two separate people; the docile, polite person I was with Parker, and the angry, confused, frustrated person I turned into around Travis. The entire school had witnessed Travis going from unpredictable before, to damn near volatile.

I dressed quickly, leaving Travis and Shepley to go downtown with America. She giggled about her morning sexcapade with Shepley, and I listened with dutiful nods in all the right places. It was hard to focus on the topic at hand with the diamonds of my bracelet creating tiny dots of light on the ceiling of the car, reminding me of the choice I was suddenly faced with. Travis wanted an answer, and I didn’t have one.

“Okay, Abby. What’s going on? You’ve been quiet.”

“This thing with Travis…it’s just a mess.”

“Why?” she said, her sunglasses pushing up when she wrinkled her nose.

“He asked me what we were doing.”

“What are you doing? Are you with Parker or what?”

“I like him but it’s been a week. We’re not serious or anything.”

“You have feelings for Travis, don’t you?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know how I feel about him. I just don’t see it happening, Mare. He’s too much of a bad thing.”

“Neither one of you will just come out and say it, that’s the problem. You’re both so scared of what might happen that you’re fighting it tooth and nail. I know for a fact that if you looked Travis in the eye and told him you wanted him, he would never look at another woman again.”

“You know that for a fact?”

“Yes. I have the inside track, remember?”

I paused in thought for a moment. Travis had been talking to Shepley about me, but Shepley wouldn’t encourage a relationship by telling America. He knew she would tell me, leading me to the only conclusion: America had overheard them. I wanted to ask her what was said, but thought better of it.

“That situation is a broken heart just waiting to happen,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t think he’s capable of being faithful.”

“He wasn’t capable of carrying on a friendship with a female, either, but you two sure shocked the whole of Eastern.”

I fingered my bracelet and sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t mind how things are. We can just be friends.”

America shook her head. “Except that you’re not just friends,” she sighed. “You know what? I’m over this conversation. Let’s go get our hair and makeup done. I’ll buy you a new outfit for your birthday.”

“I think that’s exactly what I need,” I smiled.

After hours of manicures, pedicures, being brushed, waxed and powdered, I stepped into my shiny, yellow high heels and tugged on my new, grey dress.

“Now that’s the Abby I know and love!” she laughed, shaking her head at my ensemble. “You have to wear that to your party tomorrow.”

“Wasn’t that the plan all along?” I said, smirking. My cell phone buzzed in my purse, and I held it to my ear. “Hello?”

“It’s dinner time! Where the hell did you two run off to?” Travis said.

“We indulged in a little pampering. You and Shep knew how to eat before we came along. I’m sure you can manage.”

“Well, no shit. We worry about you, ya know.”

I looked at America and smiled. “We’re fine.”

“Tell him I’ll have you back in no time. I have to stop by Brazil’s to pick up some notes for Shep, and then we’ll be home.”

“Did you get that?” I asked.

“Yeah. See you then, Pidge.”

We drove to Brazil’s in silence. America turned off the ignition, staring at the apartment building ahead. Shepley asking America to drive over surprised me; we were just a block from Shepley and Travis’ apartment,

“What’s wrong, Mare?”

“Brazil just gives me the creeps. The last time I was here with Shep, he was being all flirty.”

“Well, I’ll go in with you. If he so much as winks at you, I’ll stab him in the eye with my new heels, okay?”

America smiled and hugged me. “Thanks, Abby!”

We walked to the back of the building, and America took a deep breath before knocking on the door. We waited, but no one came.

“I guess he’s not here?” I asked.

“He’s here,” she said, irritated. She banged on the wood with the side of her fist and then the door swung open.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” the crowd inside yelled.

The ceiling was pink and black bubbles, every inch covered by helium balloons, with long, silver strings hanging down in the faces of the guests. The crowd separated, and Travis walked approached me with a broad smile, touching each side of my face and kissing my forehead.

“Happy birthday, Pigeon.”

“It’s not ‘til tomorrow,” I said. Still in shock, I tried smiling at everyone around us.

Travis shrugged. “Well, since you were tipped off, we had to make some last minute changes to surprise you. Surprised?”

“Very!” I said as Finch hugged me.

“Happy birthday, Baby!” Finch said, kissing my lips.

America nudged me with her elbow. “Good thing I got you to go run errands with me today or you would have shown up looking like ass!”

“You look great,” Travis said, scanning my dress.

Brazil hugged me, pressing his cheek to mine. “And I hope you know America’s Brazil is Creepy story was just a line to get you in here.”

I looked at America and she laughed. “It worked, didn’t it?”

Once everyone took turns hugging me and wishing me a happy birthday, I leaned into America’s ear. “Where’s Parker?”

“He’ll be here later,” she whispered. “Shepley couldn’t get him on the phone to let him know until this afternoon.”

Brazil cranked up the volume on the stereo, and everyone screamed. “Come here, Abby!” he said, walking to the kitchen. He lined up shot glasses along the counter and pulled a bottle of tequila from the bar. “Happy birthday from the football team, baby girl,” he smiled, pouring each shot glass full of Petron. “This is the way we do birthdays: You turn nineteen, you have nineteen shots. You can drink ‘em or give ‘em away, but the more you drink, the more of these you get,” he said, fanning out a handful of twenties.

“Oh my God!” I squealed.

“Drink ‘em up, Pidge!” Travis said.

I looked to Brazil, suspicious. “I get a twenty for every shot I drink?”

“That’s right, lightweight. Gauging by the size of you, I’m going to say we’ll get away with losing sixty bucks by the end of the night.”

“Think again, Brazil,” I said, grabbing the first shot glass, rolling it across my lip, tipping my head back to empty the glass and then rolling it the rest of the way, dropping it into my other hand.

“Holy shit!” Travis exclaimed.

“This is really a waste, Brazil.” I said, wiping the corners of my mouth. “You shoot Cuervo, not Petron.”

The smug smile on Brazil’s face faded, and he shook his head and shrugged. “Get after it, then. I’ve got the wallets of twelve football players that say you can’t finish ten.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Double or nothing says I can drink fifteen.”

“Whoa!” Shepley cried. “You’re not allowed to hospitalize yourself on your birthday, Abby!”

“She can do it,” America said, staring at Brazil.