Beautiful Disaster 01 (42 page)

I sat alone Friday night, laying in bed, holding the phone to my ear. I rolled my eyes when my stomach growled.

“I can come pick you up and take you somewhere for dinner,” America said.

I flipped through my History book, skipping over where Travis had doodled and scribbled love notes in the margins. “No, it’s your first night with Shep in almost a week, Mare. I’m just going to pop over to the cafeteria.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Tell Shep I said hi.”

I walked slow to the cafeteria, in no hurry to suffer the stares of those at the tables. The entire school was abuzz with the breakup, and Travis’ volatile behavior didn’t help. Just when the lights of the cafeteria came into view, I saw a dark figure approach.

“Pigeon?”

Startled, I jerked to a stop. Travis walked into the light, unshaven and pale. “Jesus, Travis! You scared the hell out of me!”

“If you would answer your phone when I call I wouldn’t have to sneak around in the dark.”

“You look like hell,” I said.

“I’ve been through there once or twice this week.”

I tightened my arms around me. “I’m actually on my way to grab something to eat. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“No. We have to talk.”

“Trav….”

“I turned Benny down. I called him Wednesday and told him no.” There was hopeful glimmer in his eyes, but it disappeared when he registered my expression.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Travis.”

“Say you forgive me. Say you’ll take me back.”

I clenched my teeth together, forbidding myself to cry. “I can’t.”

Travis’ face crumpled and I took the opportunity to walk around him, but he side-stepped to stand in my way. “I haven’t slept, or ate…I can’t concentrate. I
know
you love me. Everything will be the way it used to be if you’d just take me back.”

I closed my eyes. “We are dysfunctional, Travis. I think you’re just obsessed with the thought of owning me more than anything else.”

“That’s not true. I love you more than my life, Pigeon,” he said, hurt.

“That’s exactly what I mean. That’s crazy talk.”

“It’s not crazy. It’s the truth.”

“Okay…so what exactly is the order for you? Is it money, me, your life…or is there something that comes before money?”

“I realize what I’ve done, okay? I see where you’d think that, but if I’d known that you were gonna leave me, I would have never…I just wanted to take care of you.”

“You’ve said that.”

“Please don’t do this. I can’t stand feeling like this…it’s…it’s killin’ me,” he said, exhaling as if the air had been knocked out of him.

“I’m done, Travis.”

He winced. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s
over
. Go home.”

His eyebrows pulled in. “
You’re
my home.”

His words cut me, and my chest tightened so much that it was hard to breathe. “You made your choice, Trav. I’ve made mine,” I said, inwardly cursing the quivering in my voice.

“I’m going to stay the hell out of Vegas, and away from Benny…I’m going to finish school. But I need you. I
need
you. You’re my best friend.” His voice was desperate and broken, matching his expression.

In the dim light I could see a tear fall from his eye, and in the next moment he reached out for me and I was in his arms, his lips on mine. He squeezed me tight against his chest as he kissed me, and then cradled my face in his hands, pressing his lips harder against my mouth, desperate to get a reaction.

“Kiss me,” he whispered, sealing his mouth on mine. I kept my eyes and mouth closed, relaxing in his arms. It took everything I had not to move my mouth with his, having longed for his lips all week. “Kiss me!” he begged. “Please, Pigeon! I told him no!”

When I felt hot tears searing down my cold face, I shoved him away. “Leave me
alone
, Travis!”

I had only made it a few feet when he grabbed my wrist. My arm was straight, outstretched behind me. I didn’t turn around.

“I am
begging
you.” My arm lowered and tugged as he fell to his knees. “I’m begging you, Abby. Don’t do this.”

I turned to see his agonized expression, and then my eyes drifted down my arm to his, seeing my name in thick black letters on his flexed wrist. I looked away, toward the cafeteria. He had proven to me what I had been afraid of all along. As much as he loved me, when money was involved, I would be second. Just like I was with Mick.

If I gave in, he would either change his mind about Benny, or he would resent me every time money could have made his life easier. I imagined him in a blue collar job, coming home with the same look in his eyes that Mick had when he returned after a night of bad luck. It would be my fault that his life wasn’t what he wanted it to be, and I couldn’t let my future be plagued with the bitterness and regret that I left behind.

“Let me go, Travis.”

After several moments he finally released my arm. I ran to the glass door, yanking it open without looking back. Everyone in the room stared at me as I walked toward the buffet, and just as I reached my destination, heads angled to see outside the windows where Travis was on his knees, palms flat on the pavement.

The sight of him on the ground made the tears I’d been holding back rush down my face. I passed the stacks of plates and trays, dashing down the hall to the bathrooms. It was bad enough that everyone had witnessed the scene between me and Travis. I couldn’t let them see me cry.

I cowered in the stall for an hour, bawling uncontrollably until I heard a tiny knock on the door.

“Abby?”

I sniffed. “What are you doing in here, Finch? You’re in the girl’s bathroom.”

“Kara saw you come in and came to the dorms to get me. Let me in,” he said in a soft voice.

I shook my head. I knew he couldn’t see me, but I couldn’t speak another word. I heard him sigh and then his palms slapped on the floor as he crawled under the stall.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” he said, pulling himself under with his hands. “You’re going to be sorry you didn’t open the door, because I just crawled along that piss-covered floor and now I’m going to hug you.”

I laughed once, and then my face compressed around my smile as Finch pulled me into his arms. My knees went out from under me, and Finch carefully lowered me to the floor, pulling me into his lap.

“Ssshh,” he said, rocking me in his arms. He sighed and shook his head. “Damn, girl. What am I gonna do with you?”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

no thanks

I doodled on the front of my notebook, making squares in squares, connecting them to each other to form rudimentary three-D boxes. Ten minutes before class was to begin the classroom was still empty. Life was in the beginning stages of normal, but it still took me a few minutes to psych myself up to be around anyone other than Finch and America.

“Just because we’re not dating anymore, doesn’t mean you can’t wear the bracelet I bought you,” Parker said as he slid into the desk beside me.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you if you wanted it back.”

He smiled, leaning over to add a bow to the top of one of the boxes on the paper. “It was a gift, Abs. I don’t give gifts with conditions.”

Dr. Ballard flipped on her overhead as she took her seat at the head of the class, rummaging through papers on her cluttered desk. The room was suddenly abuzz with chatter, echoing against the large, rain spattered windows.

“I heard that you and Travis broke up a couple of weeks ago.” Parker held up a hand seeing my impatient expression. “It’s none of my business. You’ve just looked so sad, and I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, turning to a fresh page in my notebook.

“And I also wanted to apologize for my behavior before. What I said was…unkind. I was just angry and I lashed out at you. It wasn’t fair, and I’m sorry.”

“I’m not interested in dating, Parker,” I warned.

He chuckled. “I’m not trying to take advantage. We’re still friends and I want to make sure that you’re okay.”

“I’m okay.”

“Are you going home for Thanksgiving break?”

“I’m going home with America. I usually have Thanksgiving at her house.”

Parker began to speak but Dr. Ballard began her lecture. The subject of Thanksgiving made me think of my previous plans to help Travis with a turkey. I thought about what that would have been like, and I found myself worrying that they would be ordering pizza yet again. A sinking feeling came over me. I instantly pushed it from my mind, trying my best to concentrate on Dr. Ballard’s every word.

After class, my face flushed when I saw Travis jogging toward me from the parking lot. He was clean shaven again, wearing a hooded sweatshirt and his favorite red baseball cap, ducking his head away from the rain.

“I’ll see you after break, Abs,” Parker said, touching my back.

I expected an angry glare from Travis, but he didn’t seem to notice Parker as he approached. “Hey, Pidge.”

I offered an awkward smile, and he shoved his hands into the front pocket of his sweatshirt. “Shepley said you’re going with him and Mare to Wichita tomorrow.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re spending the whole break at America’s?”

I shrugged, trying to seem casual. “I’m really close with her parents.”

“What about your mom?”

“She’s a drunk, Travis. She won’t know it’s Thanksgiving.”

He was suddenly nervous, and my stomach wrenched with the possibility of a second public break-up. Thunder rolled above us and Travis looked up, squinting as the large drops fell against his face.

“I need to ask you for a favor,” he said. “C’mere.” He pulled me under the closest awning and I complied, trying to avoid another scene.

“What kind of favor?” I asked, suspicious.

“My uh….” He shifted his weight. “Dad and the guys are still expecting you on Thursday.”

“Travis!” I whined.

He looked at his feet. “You said you would come.”

“I know, but…it’s a little inappropriate now, don’t you think?”

He seemed unaffected. “You said you would come.”

“We were still together when I agreed to go home with you. You
knew
I wasn’t going to come.”

“I
didn’t
know, and it’s too late, anyway. Thomas is flying in, and Tyler took off work. Everyone’s looking forward to seeing you.”

I cringed, twirling the damp strands of my hair around my finger. “They were going to come, anyway, weren’t they?”

“Not everyone. We haven’t had all of us there for Thanksgiving in years. They all made an effort to be there since I promised them a real meal. We haven’t had a woman in the kitchen since Mom died and…,”

“That’s not sexist or anything,”

He tilted his head. “That’s not what I meant, Pidge, c’mon. We all want you there. That’s all I’m sayin’.”

“You haven’t told them about us…have you?” I said in the most accusatory tone I could manage.