Once Upon a Road Trip (27 page)

Alright, soul. What’s your problem?

The logical part of her mind wanted to give a relationship with Scott a chance. After all, he was available, open to faith, chaste, undeniably good-looking, and definitely interested in her. She’d never before come across such a promising combination of attributes. And she never would again, for all she knew. Yet, she couldn’t shake the sense that it wasn’t enough.

Greedy greedy makes a lonely girl,
she mused.

Rubbing at her eyes in weary resignation, Angie cut her introspection short by pivoting and sliding off the vanity. She decided she would catch up on some much needed sleep and make a few phone calls in the morning. One thing she was sure of, at least — tonight wasn’t the time to make any important decisions.

Chapter 15

“Here, Martha wanted to make sure you got something to eat,” Scott said, thrusting a deli box at Angie as he stepped into the apartment. His gaze shifted restlessly as he edged around her and moved to the pool table, busying himself with chalking the end of a stick.

“That was sweet of her.” Angie passed the pool table and moved to sit in the back window sill, while there was still ample sunlight. “I went out and found my own food just fine yesterday, though. I could have managed again.” She noted when she neared, Scott stepped back to give her clearance. The distance he was keeping was a stark contrast to the first few days of her visit. So much so that she felt compelled to ask, “Are you mad at me, now?”

Scott’s head snapped up as he pulled his attention away from the ball return. “Mad? No. Why would I be?”

Angie shrugged a shoulder, using her lap for a table as she unwrapped a generous club sandwich. “You’re acting weird.”

“I’m just…tryin’ to back off, like you wanted. Tessa should be over in a few minutes to hang out, so we won’t be alone. I’ve told you about her before—”

“Right, the girl from Vermont. Parents divorced last year, and she’s living with her lawyer dad who completely ignores her?” She recalled the most immediate information she tied to the name. Scott had often described Tessa as his closest female friend, and a point of concern to him when it came to her partying habits.

He smirked. “That’s the one.”

“Good. I’d like to meet her.”

“Just remember she’s a little…different.” He hesitated. “Don’t say anything about it.”

Angie shot him a vexed glare. “Scott, remember Elise has been my best friend for years? I’m good with different.”
Takes one to know one.

  “Yeah, okay. I guess you’ve got a point.” Scott tipped his head down in a low chuckle. He had a more stoic expression when he looked her way again. “So, did you get in all the thinking you needed?”

Angie swallowed a bite of sandwich. “Some,” she answered tenuously. “I still need to talk to my mom. She wasn’t home when I called.”

Scott set out the triangular rack and occupied himself with placing six billiard balls into one corner of it. “I called my mom this morning and told her about you,” he said. “She’s usually pretty good with advice.”

Angie looked up in surprise. “What did she say?”

Scott set out the cue ball and eased around the table, delaying his answer as he sized up angles with the pool stick. “She said…I should quit touching you. She thinks that would make it easier on both of us.” His voice rang with conflict.

Angie released a burst of relieved laughter before she could catch herself. When Scott looked up at her in confusion, she quickly offered, “I think that’s -great- advice. Your mother is obviously a smart woman.” Watching him nod in reluctant agreement, she opted to steer the topic. “I’m glad you’re close enough to her that you can talk about things like this. I didn’t think most guys talk to their moms.”

“Well, who else am I gonna talk to?” He finally committed to a forceful break. The balls ricocheted around the table, none finding a pocket. 

“I don’t know—your stepmom is pretty nice,” Angie said, knowing better than to suggest his father. “I can tell she cares about you.”

“She’s alright,” he said, begrudgingly.

“She’s not quite what I was expecting,” Angie admitted. “After the way you talk about your dad sometimes, I mean.”

“What were you expecting?”

She considered for a brief moment. “I don’t know... some young, gorgeous, high-maintenance trophy wife?”

“That was his second wife...the one he left my mom for.” Scott’s tone darkened. “I’m pretty sure the third and fourth wives were on the rebound. They only lasted a few months each.”

Angie sensed she was treading into an emotional minefield, but it only slowed her approach. “Is that why you’re so angry at your dad all the time?”

Scott straightened up.  His eyes were fixed on the cue ball, but she could still read contempt behind them. “You know, when my parents first split custody and my dad made it big, he used to try to buy us off. He’d take us along on his overseas trips—like that made up for what he did or something.” Scott sneered. “He took me to England with him once, just after he met Martha. One night there, he told me he was sorry for everything. First time in ten years I ever heard him say sorry to anybody.” He shook his head, as if still in disbelief.

Angie crumpled up the sandwich wrapper and pivoted to face him, maintaining her position on the sunny ledge. He’d earned her undivided attention. “And what did you say?”

“I told him he was a selfish prick, and sorry didn’t change that.” Scott all but snarled. “I told him how I had to listen every night while Mom cried herself to sleep. How much she changed after he left, and what the depression did to her...” His grip on the pool stick tightened until his knuckles blanched. Then he lifted his chin, projecting some combination of pride and anger. “I told him I’d never forgive him for what he did.”

“How can you say that? Like, you think it’s noble of you to hate your own father—” Angie exclaimed, before tempering her reaction. “If you won’t forgive someone in your own family, are you going to go around holding a grudge against everybody that hurts you somehow?”

Like against me, for instance?

A raw look of bewilderment flash across Scott’s face. “It wasn’t just me he hurt—that bastard tore our family apart!” Scott recovered from his shock with a fit of righteous indignation. “He just about killed my mom from the inside out. He deserves to be more than sorry! You think I’m supposed to just let him off the hook?” 

“Yeah, I do.”  Angie answered, finding her tone had calmed as incrementally as his had become hostile. “And not for your dad’s sake, for yours.” She paused. “Besides that, I know for a fact that God doesn’t want us hating -anybody-.”

“If you’re gonna preach, save some for him—cuz I know it’s gotta be a sin to cheat on your wife and abandon your kids,” Scott growled back, dropping the pool stick onto the table in a clatter of disregard.

“That isn’t the point, Scott.” Angie wavered, unsure if his temper would allow him to process anything she was saying. He was worked up enough that, were their places reversed, she couldn’t see herself being receptive. She waited, watching as he half-circled the table back and forth several times, pacing. “You know the saying about how bitterness is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die?”

Scott paused to look at her. “No.”

“Oh.” Angie’s line of thought faltered. “Well, it’s true, anyway. You’re causing yourself a lot more harm than you’re causing your dad. You need to forgive him.”

“At least it’s doing him -some- damage. Karma sure hasn’t kicked in otherwise.” Scott looked away, defiant. “If God doesn’t like it, then he shoulda brought down some justice a long time ago.”

Angie lowered her head in exasperation. She felt repulsed by Scott’s demeanor, which now stood in brutal disparity to some of her recent feelings for him. “You need to rethink this vindictive thing, Scott. It’s not healthy—and it’s really ugly on you.”

A rapping sound came from the front of the apartment and Angie rose to answer the door. She passed Scott on her way and he moved aside, rubbing the dark scruff along his jaw in sulking silence. She pretended not to notice his mood, turning her focus to the new arrival.

Standing no more than five feet in height, the lithe girl on the other side struck up a radiant smile. “You must be Angeli?” she said, offering out a dainty hand — the arm it was attached to clinked with countless plastic bangles. “Tessa.” She brought her free hand up to splay against her own shoulder, indicatively. Her left arm was equally stacked with multicolored bracelets.

Angie shook the offered hand and motioned for her to enter. “That’s me. Good to finally meet you,” she said, concealing her surprise. After Scott’s vague cautioning, she hadn’t been sure what to expect.

Tessa was somewhat pale in complexion, with small features that Angie saw as fragile and lovely. Her large, pale-blue eyes adopted a lavender hue thanks to expertly placed eye makeup and the vivid amethyst hair she wore in a face-framing bob. Six silver rings lined the cartilage of her right ear, with the same number of silver studs filling out the left. She wore a close-fitted pair of glossy black pants, while her slender form failed to fill out the tattered band T-shirt that draped her shoulders. Tessa’s uniqueness was stunning, and Angie was fascinated.

   “Hey,” Scott greeted. The fire in him seemed to die down. He sat cross-legged atop the pool table, sifting through a deck of cards.

“I hope we’re not playing for cash.” Tessa’s voice came out light and brisk. She looked over her shoulder to Angie with a mischievous smile. “The guys are no good with odds—or at reading women. I always clean them out on poker night.”

“That won’t be happening.” Scott held up the back of the deck to display the name, and then continued his complicated shuffling routine. “We’re playing Uno. And I’m the grand master of Uno.”

Tessa cast Angie a sly smile. “Aww, he’s showing off.” She bent to remove a pair of studded leather boots and hopped up onto the pool table opposite Scott. “You’re from Minnesota, right?” she directed to Angie. “Isn’t that the state with the governor who used to be a wrestler?”

“Yep, that’s us.” Angie chuckled, placing herself at the end of the table facing both of them. Scott seemed to be putting a great deal of effort into not looking at her, and so she gladly continued to give Tessa her full attention.

“I liked that guy. He finally made politics interesting.” Tessa nodded in approval. “I read that interview where he said that ‘religion is a crutch for the weak-minded…’ Good stuff.”

Scott paused and cut a glance toward Angie.

Under the sudden impression she was being tested, Angie smiled to herself. If either of them expected her to become uppity and offended, she was determined to disappoint. “Well if nothing else, I think our state should get credit for trying something new.” The reply earned her a beaming smile of amusement from Tessa.

“You have to tell me about Minnesota. I always figured it must be a lot like Vermont; all forests, fields, and cows—god, it’s boring up there.” Tessa swatted at Scott’s knee, coercing him into dealing the cards.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“So, you and Scott—” Tessa opened the conversation as she sat down at a small table in the least-crowded corner of Starbucks. Angie trailed close behind carrying both of their drinks — a mocha for her, and a vegan-friendly chai latte for Tessa. “—are you two official yet?”

Angie had already come to appreciate the girl’s pithy-yet-pleasant disposition during their many rounds of cards. She’d been charmed enough to ask her to coffee afterward, with the intent of relishing a female-exclusive outing and any insight it might bring. “Ah, no. We’re not,” she answered, setting the drinks down as she sank into the opposite chair.

“Well what’s the holdup, chick-a-dee?” Tessa brought her drink to her lips for a sip. “It’s obvious the chemistry is there. You already have a guy back home or something?” 

Angie cupped her mocha with both hands, allowing its heat to build against her palms. “No. Nothing like that.”

“I didn’t think so, or Scott would have mentioned it—seeing as he’s been talking about you for months now.” Tessa laughed. “He even asked me what he should get you for your birthday. Me. Like being a girl made me an expert.”

Angie squirmed in her seat. “You mean, that mix of music he sent me—”

“My suggestion,” Tessa said, proudly. “I could already tell he had it bad then. Not that he’d admit it.”

Angie’s shoulders slumped with the onset of guilt. “I didn’t realize that.”

“So, you like him, right?” Tessa said. “I mean, guys don’t come much better looking than Scott. He’s a little obtuse sometimes...but most of them are.”

“I like him.” Angie nodded, nursing her mocha. “But I don’t know if we should be more than friends. I hear long distance relationships don’t usually work out, and I don’t think it’s worth either of us getting hurt.”

“Well nobody said you had to marry him or anything.” Tessa laughed. “Or are you really all old-fashioned like he says?” Feigning a dramatic gasp, she leaned in closer across the table. “Wait, are you one of those girls that still believe in white knights and happily-ever-afters?” 

Old-fashioned. Out of date. Pathetic.

The taunts of Angie’s former classmates echoed through her mind. She bit back annoyance at the girl’s condescension. “I just don’t want to start a relationship with somebody if I’m not serious about them. And I don’t know if I could be serious enough about Scott.” It was the best way she’d been able to explain it to herself thus far, though she knew it left something to be desired.

“I think you should go for it,” Tessa said. “Experiment a little—live it up while you can.” She clicked her barbell tongue piercing against her teeth in contemplation, then shook her head in wonder. “Sorry, maybe that archaic conformist mentality is still big where you come from, but I don’t see how you can stand being so…repressed.”

Huh. The girl with the purple hair thinks I’m weird
.

Angie was having trouble deciding if she was reading pity or concern from Tessa’s expression. “I don’t think I’m repressed, I just don’t want to play around with someone’s emotions while I’m trying to figure out my own.” She struggled to keep from sounding defensive. “I knew a few people in high school who lost it over bad breakups. Two attempted suicide. I may not have a lot of personal experience with this sort of thing, but it’s not a game to me.” Angie settled an earnest gaze on the girl’s face, silently willing her to understand the respect she had for something she knew held the power to shatter emotions. “I don’t want to hurt Scott. I don’t want to hurt -anybody-.”