Beautiful Disaster 01 (47 page)

Her eyes narrowed and she pulled her arm from his grip. “Well then why don’t you go find a random WHORE—,” she looked at Megan, “—from the Red and bring her home to fuck, and then let me know if it helps you get over me.”

“Mare,” Shepley grabbed for her but she evaded him, slamming the door as she sat behind the wheel. I sat beside her, trying not to look at Travis.

“Baby, don’t leave,” Shepley begged, leaning down into the window.

She started the car. “There is a right side and a wrong side here, Shep. And
you
are on the
wrong
side.”

“I’m on your side,” he said, his eyes desperate.

“Not anymore, you’re not,” she said, backing out.

“America? America!” Shepley called after her as she raced to the road, leaving him behind.

I sighed. “Mare, you can’t break up with him over this. He’s right.”

America put her hand on mine and squeezed. “No he’s not.
Nothing
about what just happened was right.”

When we pulled into the parking lot beside Morgan, America’s phone rang. She rolled her eyes as she answered. “I don’t want you calling me anymore. I mean it, Shep,” she said. “No you’re not…because I don’t
want
you to, that’s why. You can’t defend what he’s done, you can’t condone him hurting Abby like that and be with me…that’s exactly what I mean, Shepley! It doesn’t matter! You don’t see Abby screwing the first guy she sees! It’s not Travis that’s the problem, Shepley. He didn’t ask you to defend him!
Ugh
…I’m done talking about this.
Don’t
call me again. Goodbye.”

She shoved her way out of the car and stomped across the road and up the steps. I tried to keep in step with her, waiting to hear the other side of the conversation.

When her phone rang again, she turned it off. “Travis made Shep take Megan home. He wanted to come by on his way back.”

“You should let him, Mare.”

“No. You’re my
best
friend. I can’t stomach what I saw tonight, and I can’t be with someone that will defend it. End of conversation, Abby, I mean it.”

I nodded and she hugged my shoulders, pulling me against her side as we walked up the stairs to our rooms. Kara was already asleep, and I skipped the shower, crawling into bed fully dressed, coat and all. I couldn’t stop thinking about Travis stumbling in the door with Megan, or the red lipstick smeared across his face. I tried to block out the sickening images of what would have happened had I not been there, and I crossed over several emotions, settling on despair.

Shepley was right. I had no right to be angry, but it didn’t help to ignore the pain.

Finch shook his head when I sat in the desk beside him. I knew that I looked awful; I barely had the energy to change clothes and brush my teeth. I had only slept an hour the night before, unable to shake the sight of the red lipstick on Travis’ mouth or the guilt over Shepley and America’s break up.

America chose to stay in bed, knowing once the anger subsided, depression would set in. She loved Shepley, and although she was determined to end things because he had picked the wrong side, she was prepared to suffer the backlash of her decision.

After class, Finch walked with me to the cafeteria. As I had feared, Shepley was waiting at the door for America. When he saw me, he didn’t hesitate.

“Where’s Mare?”

“She didn’t go to class this morning.”

“She’s in her room?” he said, turning for Morgan.

“I’m sorry, Shepley,” I called after him.

He froze and wheeled around, with the face of a man that had reached his limit. “I wish you and Travis would just get your shit together! You’re a goddamn tornado! When you’re happy, it’s love and peace and butterflies. When you’re pissed, you take the whole fucking world down with you!”

He stomped away and I exhaled the breath I was holding. “That went well.”

Finch pulled me into the cafeteria. “The whole world. Wow. Think you could work your voodoo before the test on Friday?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Finch chose a different table, and I was more than happy to follow him there. Travis sat with his frat brothers, but he didn’t get a tray and he didn’t stay long. He noticed me just as he was leaving, but he didn’t stop.

“So America and Shepley broke up, too, huh?” Finch asked while he chewed.

“We were at Shep’s last night and Travis came home with Megan and…it was a mess. They took sides.”

“Ouch.”

“Exactly. I feel terrible.”

Finch patted my back. “You can’t control the decisions they make, Abby. So I guess this means we get to skip the Valentines thing at Sig Tau?”

“Looks that way.”

Finch smiled. “I’ll still take you out. I’ll take you and Mare both out. It’ll be fun.”

I leaned on his shoulder. “You’re the best, Finch.”

I hadn’t thought about Valentine’s, but I was glad I had plans. I couldn’t imagine how miserable I would feel spending it with America alone, hearing her rant about Shepley and Travis all night. She would still do that—she wouldn’t be America if she didn’t—but at least it would be a limited tirade if we were in public.

The weeks of January passed, and after a commendable but failed attempt by Shepley to get America back, I saw less and less of both him and Travis. By February, they stopped coming to the cafeteria all together, and I only saw Travis a handful of times on my way to class.

The weekend before Valentine’s Day, America and Finch talked me into going to the Red, and the entire drive to the club, I dreaded seeing Travis there. We walked in, and I sighed with relief to see no sign of him.

“First rounds on me,” Finch said, pointing out a table and sliding through the crowd to the bar.

We sat down and watched as the dance floor went from being empty to overflowing with drunken college students. After our fifth round, Finch pulled us to the dance floor, and I finally felt relaxed enough to have a good time. We giggled and bumped against each other, laughing hysterically when a man swung his dance partner around and she missed his hand, sliding across the floor on her side.

America raised her hands above her head, shaking her curls to the music. I laughed at her signature dance face and then stopped abruptly when I saw Shepley walk up behind her. He whispered something in her ear and she flipped around. They traded words and then America grabbed my hand, leading me to our table.

“Of course. The one night we go out, and he shows up,” she grumbled.

Finch brought us two more drinks, including a shot each. “I thought you might need them.”

“You thought right.” America tilted her head back before we could toast and I shook my head, clinking my glass to Finch’s. I tried to keep my eyes on my friends’ faces, worried that with Shepley being there, Travis wouldn’t be far behind.

Another song came over the speakers and America stood up. “Fuck it. I’m not sitting at this table the rest of the night.”

“Atta girl!” Finch smiled, following her to the dance floor.

I followed them, glancing around for Shepley. He had disappeared, and I relaxed again, trying to shake off the feeling that Travis would show up on the dance floor with Megan. A boy I’d seen around campus danced behind America, and she smiled, welcoming the distraction. I had a suspicion that she was making a show of enjoying herself, in hopes that Shepley would see. I looked away for a second, and when I looked back to America, her dance partner was gone. She shrugged, continuing to shake her hips to the beat.

The next song began to play and a different boy appeared behind America, his friend dancing next to me. After a few moments, my new dance partner maneuvered behind me, and I felt a bit unsure when I felt his hands on my hips. As if he’d read my mind, his hands left my waist. I looked behind me, and he was gone. I looked up to America, and the man behind her was gone as well.

Finch seemed a bit nervous, but when America raised an eyebrow at his expression, he shook his head and continued dancing.

By the third song, I was sweaty and tired. I retreated to our table, resting my heavy head on my hand, and laughed as I watched yet another hopeful ask America to dance. She winked at me from the dance floor, and then I stiffened when I saw him yanked backwards, disappearing through the crowd.

I stood up and walked around the dance floor, keeping my eye on the hole he was pulled through, and felt the adrenaline burn through the alcohol in my veins when I saw Shepley holding the surprised man by his collar. Travis was beside him, laughing hysterically until he looked up and saw me watching them. He hit Shepley’s arm, and when Shepley looked in my direction, he shoved his victim backward onto the floor.

It didn’t take me long to figure out what was going on: they had been yanking the guys that were dancing with us off the dance floor and threatening them to stay away from us.

I narrowed my eyes at them both and then made my way to America. The crowd was thick, and I had to shove a few people out of my way. Shepley grabbed my hand before I made it to the dance floor.

“Don’t tell her!” he said, trying to subdue his smile.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Shep?”

He shrugged, still proud of himself. “I love her. I can’t let other guys dance with her.”

“Then what’s your excuse for yanking the guy that was dancing with me?” I said, crossing my arms.

“That wasn’t me,” Shepley said, quickly glancing at Travis. “Sorry, Abby. We were just having fun.”

“
Not
funny.”

“What’s not funny?” America said, glaring at Shepley.

He swallowed, shooting a pleading look in my direction. I owed him a favor, so I kept my mouth shut.

He sighed in relief when he realized I wouldn’t rat him out, and then he looked at America with sweet adoration. “Wanna dance?”

“No, I don’t wanna dance,” she said, walking back to the table. He followed her, leaving Travis and I standing together.

Travis shrugged. “Wanna dance?”

“What? Megan’s not here?”

He shook his head. “You used to be a sweet drunk.”

“Happy to disappoint you,” I said, turning toward the bar.

He followed, pulling two guys from their seats. I glared at him for a moment, but he ignored me, sitting down and then watching me with an expectant expression.

“Are you gonna sit? I’ll buy you a beer.”

“I thought you didn’t buy drinks for girls at the bar.”

He tilted his head in my direction with an impatient frown. “You’re different.”

“That’s what you keep telling me.”

“C’mon, Pidge. What happened to us being friends?”

“We can’t be friends, Travis. Obviously.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to watch you maul a different girl every night, and you won’t let anyone dance with me.”