Jamie McGuire - Beautiful Disaster

I rested my head on my arm, breathing out a long, relaxing puff of air. “Just two weeks left. What are you going to do for drama when I move back to Morgan?”

“I don’t know,” he said. I could see his tormented frown, even in the darkness.

“Hey,” I touched his arm. “I was kidding.”

I watched him for a long time, breathing, blinking, and trying to relax. He fidgeted a bit and then looked over at me. “Do you trust me, Pidge?”

“Yeah, why?”

“C’mere,” he said, pulling me against him. I stiffened for a second or two before resting my head on his chest. Whatever was going on with him, he needed me near him, and I couldn’t have objected even if I’d wanted to. It felt right lying next to him.

Finch shook his head. “Okay, so you’re with Parker, or with Travis? I’m confused.”

“Parker’s not talking to me, so that’s sort of up in the air right now,” I said, bouncing to readjust my backpack.

He blew out a puff of smoke, and then picked a piece of tobacco from his tongue. “So are you with Travis?”

“We’re friends, Finch.”

“You realize everyone thinks you two are having some sort of freaky friends-with-benefits thing going on that you’re not admitting to, right?”

“I don’t care. They can think what they want.”

“Since when? What happened to the nervous, mysterious, guarded Abby I know and love?”

“She died from the stress of all the rumors and assumptions.”

“That’s too bad. I’m going to miss pointing and laughing at her.”

I smacked Finch’s arm, and he laughed. “Good. It’s about time you quit pretending,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Honey, you’re talking to someone’s who’s lived most of his life pretending. I spotted you a mile away.”

“What are you trying to say, Finch? That I’m closet lesbian?”

“No, that you’re hiding something. The cardigans, the demure sophisticate that goes to fancy restaurants with Parker Hayes…that’s not you. Either you were a small town stripper or you’ve been to rehab. The latter’s my guess.”

I laughed out loud. “You are a terrible guesser!”

“So what’s your secret?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret, now would it?”

His features sharpened with an impish grin. “I’ve shown you mine, now show me yours.”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but your sexual orientation isn’t exactly a secret, Finch.”

“Fuck! And I thought I had the mysterious sex kitten thing going for me,” he said, taking another drag.

I cringed before I spoke. “Did you have a good home life, Finch?”

“My mom’s great…my dad and I had a lot of issues to work out, but we’re good, now.”

“I had Mick Abernathy for a father.”

“Who’s that?”

I giggled. “See? It’s not a big deal if you don’t know who he is.”

“Who is he?”

“A mess. The gambling, the drinking, the bad temper…it’s hereditary in my family. America and I came here so I could start fresh, without the stigma of being the daughter of a drunken has-been.”

“A gambling has-been from Wichita?”

“I was born in Nevada. Everything Mick touched turned to gold back then. When I turned thirteen, his luck changed.”

“And he blamed you.”

“America gave up a lot to come here with me so I could get away, but I get here and walk face-first into Travis.”

“And when you look at Travis…,”

“It’s all too familiar.”

Finch nodded, flicking his cigarette to the ground. “Shit, Abby. That sucks.”

I narrowed my eyes. “If you tell anyone what I just told you, I’ll call The Mob. I know some of them, you know.”

“Bullshit.”

I shrugged. “Believe what you want.”

Finch eyed me suspiciously, and then smiled. “You are officially the coolest person I know.”

“That’s sad, Finch. You should get out more,” I said, stopping at the cafeteria entrance.

He pulled my chin up. “It’ll all work out. I’m a firm believer in the whole things-happening-for-a-reason adage. You came here, America met Shep, you found your way to The Circle, something about you turned Travis Maddox’s world upside down. Think about it,” he said, planting a quick kiss on my lips.

“Hey now!” Travis said. He grabbed me by the waist, lifted me off my feet, returning me to the ground behind him. “You’re the last person I’d have to worry about that shit from, Finch! Throw me a bone, here!” he teased.

Finch leaned to the side of Travis and winked. “Later, Cookie.”

When Travis turned to face me, his smile faded. “What’s the frown for?”

I shook my head, trying to let the adrenaline run its course. “I just don’t like that nickname. It has some bad memories attached to it.”

“Term of endearment from the youth minister?”

“No,” I grumbled.

Travis punched his palm. “Do you want me to go beat the piss out of Finch? Teach him a lesson? I’ll take him out.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “If I wanted to take Finch out, I’d just tell him Prada went out of business, and he’d finish the job for me.”

Travis laughed, nudging toward the door. “Let’s go! I’m wasting away, here!”

We sat at the lunch table together picking on each other with pinches and elbows to the ribs. Travis’ mood was as optimistic as the night I lost the bet. Everyone at the table noticed, and when he instigated a mini-food fight with me, it garnered the attention of those sitting at the tables around us.

I rolled my eyes. “I feel like a zoo animal.”

Travis watched me for a moment, noted those staring, and then stood up. “I CAN’T!” he yelled. I stared in awe as the entire room jerked their heads in his direction. Travis bobbed his head a couple of times to a beat in his head.

Shepley closed his eyes. “Oh, no.”

Travis smiled. “get no….sa…tis…faction,” he sang, “I can’t get no….sat-is-fac-tion. ‘Cuz I’ve tried…and I’ve tried…and I’ve tried…and I’ve tried…,” he climbed onto the table as everyone stared, “I CAN’T GET NO!”

He pointed to the football players at the end of the table and they smiled, “I CAN’T GET NO!” they yelled in unison. The whole room clapped to the beat, then.

Travis’ sang into his fist, “When I’m drivin’ in my car, and a man comes on the…ra-di-o…he’s tellin’ me more and more…about some useless in-for-ma-tion! Supposed to fire my im-agin-a-tion! I CAN’T GET NO!

Uh no, no, no!” He danced past me, singing into his imaginary microphone.

The whole room chanted in harmony, “HEY, HEY, HEY!”

“That’s what I’ll say!” Travis sang.

Travis jerked his hips, and a few whistles and squeals from the girls in the room fired off. He walked by me again, singing the chorus to the other side of the room, the football players his backup singers.

“I’ll help you out!” A girl yelled from the back.

“…cuz I tried, and I tried, and I tried…,” he sang.

“I CAN’T GET NO! I CAN’T GET NO!” his backups chanted.

Travis stopped in front of me and bent down. “When I’m watchin’ my tv…and a…man comes on and tells me….how white my shirts can be! Well he can’t be a man, ‘cause he doesn’t smoke….the same cigarettes as me! I can’t…get no! Uh no, no, no!”

Everyone clapped to the beat and the football players sang, “HEY, HEY, HEY!”

“That’s what I say!” Travis sang, pointing to his clapping audience. Some people stood and danced with him, but most just watched with amused amazement.

He jumped to the adjacent table and America squealed and clapped, elbowing me. I shook my head; I had died and woken up in High School Musical.

The football players were humming the base line, “Na, na, nanana! Na, na, na! Na na, nanana!”

Travis held his fist-microphone high, “When I’m…ridin’ ‘round the world…and I’m doin’ this…and I’m signin’ that!!”

He jumped down, and then leaned across the table into my face, “And I’m tryin’ to make some girl….tell me, uh baby better come back, maybe next week, ‘cuz you see I’m. On. A losin’ streak! I CAN’T GET NO! Uh no, no, no!”

The room clapped to the beat, the football team yelled their part, “HEY, HEY, HEY!”

“I can’t get no! I can’t get no! Satis-faction!” he crooned to me, smiling and breathless.

The entire room exploded into applause, even a few whistles. I shook my after he kissed my forehead, and then stood up to take a bow. When he returned to his seat in front of me, he chuckled.

“They’re not looking at you, now, are they?” he panted.

“Thanks. You really shouldn’t have,” I smiled.

“Abs?”

I looked up to see Parker standing at the end of the table. All eyes were on me once again.

“We need to talk,” Parker said, seeming nervous. I looked at America, Travis, and then to Parker. “Please?” he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

I nodded, following him outside. He walked past the windows to the privacy of the side of the building. “I didn’t mean to draw attention to you again. I know how you hate that.”

“Then you might have just called if you wanted to talk,” I said.

He nodded, looking to the ground. “It wasn’t my intention to find you in the cafeteria. I saw the commotion, and then you, and I just went in. I’m sorry.”

I waited, and he spoke again, “I don’t know what happened with you and Travis. It’s none of my business…you and I have only been on a handful of dates. I was upset at first, but then I realized that it wouldn’t have bothered me if I didn’t have feelings for you.”

“I didn’t sleep with him, Parker. He held my hair while I hurled a pint of Petron in his toilet. That’s as romantic as it got.”