Beautiful Disaster (10 page)

When he saw me, he froze. After an awkward pause, his expression melted, and his voice was smooth and sweet. “Hey, Pigeon.”

I couldn't have been more confused if I had woken up in a foreign country. Nothing made sense. At first I thought I had been evicted, and then Travis comes home with bags full of my favorite foods.

He took a few steps into the living room, nervously shoving his hands in his pockets. “You hungry, Pidge? I'll make you some pancakes. Or there's uh … there's some oatmeal. And I got you some of that pink foamy shit that girls shave with, and a hairdryer, and a … a … .just a sec, it's in here,” he said, rushing to the bedroom.

The door opened and shut, and then he rounded the corner, the color gone from his face. He took a deep breath and his eyebrows pulled in. “Your stuff's packed.”

“I know,” I said.

“You're leaving,” he said, defeated.

I looked to America, who glowered at Travis as if she could kill him. “You actually expected her to stay?”

“Baby,” Shepley whispered.

“Don't fucking start with me, Shep. Don't you dare defend him to me,” America seethed.

Travis looked desperate. “I am so sorry, Pidge. I don't even know what to say.”

“Come on, Abby,” America said. She stood and pulled on my arm.

Travis took a step, but America pointed her finger at him. “So help me God, Travis! If you try to stop her, I will douse you with gasoline and light you on fire while you sleep!”

“America,” Shepley said, sounding a bit desperate himself. I could see that he was torn between his cousin and the woman he loved, and I felt terrible for him. The situation was exactly what he had tried to avoid all along.

“I'm fine,” I said, exasperated by the tension in the room.

“What do you mean, you're fine?” Shepley asked, almost hopeful.

I rolled my eyes. “Travis brought women home from the bar last night, so what?”

America looked worried. “Huh-uh, Abby. Are you saying you're okay with what happened?”

I looked to all of them. “Travis can bring home whoever he wants. It's his apartment.”

America stared at me as if I'd lost my mind, Shepley was on the verge of a smile, and Travis looked worse than before.

“You didn't pack your things?” Travis asked.

I shook my head and looked at the clock; it was after two in the afternoon. “No, and now I'm going to have to unpack it all. I still have to eat, and shower, and get dressed …” I said, walking into the bathroom. Once the door closed behind me, I leaned against it and slid down to the floor. I was sure I had pissed off America beyond repair, but I'd made Shepley a promise, and I intended to keep my word.

A soft knock on the door tapped above me. “Pidge?” Travis said.

“Yeah?” I said, trying to sound normal.

“You're staying?”

“I can go if you want me to, but a bet's a bet.”

The door vibrated with the soft bump of Travis'' forehead against the door. “I don't want you leave, but I wouldn't blame you if you did.”

“Are you saying I'm released from the bet?”

There was a long pause. “If I say yes, will you leave?”

“Well, yeah. I don't live here, silly,” I said, forcing a small laugh.

“Then no, the bet's still in effect.”

I looked up and shook my head, feeling tears burn my eyes. I had no idea why I was crying, but I couldn't stop. “Can I take a shower, now?”

“Yeah …” he sighed.

I heard America's shoes enter the hall and stomp by Travis. “You're a selfish bastard,” she growled, slamming Shepley's door behind her.

I pushed myself up from the floor, turned on the shower, and then undressed, pulling the curtain behind me.

After another knock on the door, Travis cleared his throat. “Pigeon? I brought some of your stuff.”

“Just set it on the sink. I'll get it.”

Travis walked in and shut the door behind him. “I was mad. I heard you spitting out everything that's wrong with me to America and it pissed me off. I just meant to go out and have a few drinks and try to figure some things out, but before I knew it, I was piss drunk and those girls …” he paused. “I woke up this morning and you weren't in bed, and when I found you on the recliner and saw the wrappers on the floor, I felt sick.”

“You could have just asked me instead of spending all that money at the grocery store just to bribe me to stay.”

“I don't care about the money, Pidge. I was afraid you'd leave and never speak to me again.”

I cringed at his explanation. I hadn't stopped to think how it would make him feel to hear me talk about how wrong for me he was, and now the situation was too messed up to salvage.

“I didn't mean to hurt your feelings,” I said, standing under the water.

“I know you didn't. And I know it doesn't matter what I say now, because I fucked things up … just like I always do.”

“Trav?”

“Yeah?”

“Don't drive drunk on your bike anymore, okay?”

I waited for a full minute until he finally took a deep breath and spoke. “Yeah, okay,” he said, shutting the door behind him.

“Come in,” I called, hearing a knock on the door.

Travis froze in the doorway. “Wow.”

I smiled and looked down at my dress. A bustier that elongated into a short skirt, it was admittedly more daring than I had worn in the past. The material was thin, black, and see-through over a nude shell. Parker would be at that party, and I had every intention of being noticed.

“You look amazing,” he said as I slid on my heels.

I gave his white dress shirt and jeans an approving nod. “You look nice, too.”

His sleeves were bunched above his elbows, revealing the intricate tattoos on his forearms. I noticed that his favorite black leather cuff was around his wrist when he shoved his hands in his pockets.

America and Shepley waited for us in the living room.

“Parker is going to piss himself when he sees you,” America giggled as Shepley led the way to the car.

Travis opened the door, and I slid into the back seat of Shepley's Charger. Although we had occupied that seat countless times before, it was suddenly awkward to sit next to him.

Cars lined the street; some even parked in the front lawn. The House was busting at the seams, and people were still walking down the street from the dorms. Shepley pulled onto the grass lot in the back, and America and I followed the boys inside.

Travis brought me a red plastic cup full of beer and then leaned in to whisper in my ear. “Don't take these from anyone but me or Shep. I don't want anyone slipping anything in your drink.”

I rolled my eyes. “No one is going to put anything in my drink, Travis.”

“Just don't drink anything that doesn't come from me, okay? You're not in Kansas, anymore, Pigeon.”

“I haven't heard that one before,” I said sarcastically, taking a drink.

An hour had passed, and Parker was still a no-show. America and Shepley were dancing to a slow song in the living room when Travis tugged on my hand. “Wanna dance?”

“No thanks,” I said.

His face fell.

I touched his shoulder. “I'm just tired, Trav.”

He put his hand on mine and began to speak, but when I looked beyond him I saw Parker. Travis noticed my expression and turned.

“Hey, Abby! You made it!” Parker smiled.

“Yeah, we've been here for an hour or so,” I said, pulling my hand from under Travis's.

“You look incredible!” he yelled over the music.

“Thanks!” I grinned, glancing over to Travis. His lips were pressed together, and a line had formed between his eyebrows.

Parker nodded toward the living room and smiled. “You wanna dance?”

I wrinkled my nose and shook my head. “Nah, I'm kinda tired.”

Parker looked at Travis then. “I thought you weren't coming.”

“I changed my mind,” Travis said, irritated that he had to explain.

“I see that,” Parker said, looking to me. “You wanna get some air?”

I nodded and then followed Parker up the stairs. He paused, reaching to take my hand as we climbed to the second floor. When we reached the top, he pushed open a pair of French doors to the balcony.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“A little chilly,” I said, smiling when he pulled off his jacket and covered my shoulders. “Thanks.”

“You're here with Travis?”

“We rode together.”

Parker's mouth stretched across his face in a broad grin, and then he looked out onto the lawn. A group of girls were in a huddle; arms hooked together to fight the cold. Crepe paper and beer cans littered the grass along with empty bottles of liquor. Among the clutter, Sig Tau brothers were standing around their masterpiece: a pyramid of kegs decorated with white lights.

Parker shook his head. “This place is going to be destroyed in the morning. The cleanup crew is going to be busy.”

“You have a cleanup crew?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, “we call them freshmen.”

“Poor Shep.”

“He's not on it. He gets a pass because he's Travis's cousin, and he doesn't live in the House.”

“Do you live in the House?”

Parker nodded. “The last two years. I need to get an apartment, though. I need a quieter place to study.”

“Let me guess … Business major?”

“Biology, with a minor in Anatomy. I've got one more year left, take the MCAT, and then hopefully I'm off to Harvard Med.”

“You already know you're in?”

“My dad went to Harvard. I mean, I don't know for sure, but he's a generous alumnus if you know what I mean. I carry a 4.0, got a 2200 on my SATs, thirty-six on my ACTs. I'm in a good position for a spot.”

“Your dad's a doctor?”

Parker confirmed with a good-natured smile. “Orthopedic surgeon.”

“Impressive.”

“How about you?” he asked.

“Undecided.”

“Typical freshman answer.”

I sighed in dramatic fashion. “I guess I just blew my chances at being exceptional.”

“Oh, you don't have to worry about that. I noticed you the first day of class. What are you doing in Calculus Three as a freshman?”

I smiled and twisted my hair around my finger. “Math is sort of easy for me. I packed on the classes in high school and took two summer courses at Wichita State.”

“Now that's impressive,” he said.

We stood on the balcony for over an hour, talking about everything from local eateries to how I became such good friends with Travis.

“I wouldn't mention it, but the two of you seem to be the topic of conversation.”

“Great,” I murmured.

“It's just unusual for Travis. He doesn't befriend women. He tends to make enemies of them more often than not.”

“Oh, I don't know. I've seen more than a few that either have short-term memory loss or are all too forgiving when it comes to him.”

Parker laughed. His white teeth gleamed against his golden tan. “People just don't understand your relationship. You have to admit it's a bit ambiguous.”

“Are you asking if I'm sleeping with him?”

He smiled. “You wouldn't be here with him if you were. I've known him since I was fourteen, and I'm well aware of how he operates. I'm curious about your friendship, though.”

“It is what it is,” I shrugged. “We hang out, eat, watch TV, study, and argue. That's about it.”

Parker laughed out loud, shaking his head at my honesty. “I've heard you're the only person who's allowed to put Travis in his place. That's an honorable title.”

“Whatever that means. He's not as bad as everyone makes him out to be.”

The sky turned purple and then pink as the sun broke above the horizon. Parker looked at his watch, glancing over the railing to the thinning crowd on the lawn. “Looks like the party's over.”

“I better track down Shep and Mare.”

“Would you mind if I drove you home?” he asked.

I tried to subdue my excitement. “Not at all. I'll let America know.” I walked through the door, and then cringed before turning around. “Do you know where Travis lives?”

Parker's thick, brown eyebrows pulled in. “Yes, why?”

“That's where I'm staying,” I said, bracing for his reaction.

“You're staying with Travis?”

“I sort of lost a bet, so I'm there for a month.”

“A month?”

“It's a long story,” I said, shrugging sheepishly.

“But you two are just friends?”

“Yes.”

“Then I'll take you to Travis's,” he smiled.

I trotted down the stairs to find America and passed a sullen Travis, who seemed annoyed with the drunken girl speaking to him. He followed me into the hall as I tugged on America's dress.

“You guys can go ahead. Parker offered me a ride home.”

“What?” America said with excitement in her eyes.

“What?” Travis asked, angry.

“Is there a problem?” America asked him.

He glared at America, and then pulled me around the corner, his jaw flitting under his skin. “You don't even know the guy.”

I pulled my arm from his grip. “This is none of your business, Travis.”

“The hell if it's not. I'm not letting you ride home with a complete stranger. What if he tries something on you?”

“Good! He's cute!”

Travis's expression contorted from surprise to anger, and I braced myself for what he might say next. “Parker Hayes, Pidge? Really? Parker Hayes,” he
repeated with disdain. “What kind of name is that, anyway?”

I crossed my arms. “Stop it, Trav. You're being a jerk.”

He leaned in, seeming flustered. “I'll kill him if he touches you.”