So Much It Hurts (11 page)

He rolled his eyes at me. “Kaitlyn! Ugh! Club Millennium? That’s not exactly what I had in mind,” he groaned.

“You promised,” I pleaded.

“Okay,” he mumbled. “Whatever.”

“Yes!” I squealed with delight.

Soon, we were speeding down the highway on the way to the club.

“Hey man, I brought the booze!” Caleb said proudly as he tossed a beer in Trevor’s direction. Trevor caught it and popped the top.

“Good,” Trevor said. “I’m gonna need it!” Guzzling it down in a few seconds, he belched loudly and asked Caleb for another one.

I rolled my eyes at Allison. “Ugh,” I groaned. “I hate it when Trevor gets drunk. He’s such a mean drunk.”

“Awww, girl, what fun is the club without a little alcohol? Lighten up!” She elbowed my ribs and giggled. “We’re gonna have fun tonight!”

“Yeah,” Caleb added as he tossed Trevor another beer. “The fun has just begun!”

Several beers later we headed toward the entrance of Club Millennium. Trevor was already buzzing and obnoxious when we walked in.

“Baby, you are so beautiful!” Trevor grabbed my waist and staggered beside me. “Let’s dance!” He dragged me out to the middle of the dance floor and began making a spectacle of himself.

“You need to chill,” I whispered harshly into his ear. “People are going to suspect you’re drunk. They’re going to call the police.”

“Okay, baby,” he slurred. “I’ll do better.”

We danced through a few songs, and then I decided that I needed something to drink. Trevor and Caleb went to the men’s room to sneak a few sips from the flask Caleb had stashed in his jacket pocket. I stood at the bar and ordered a soda. Allison came up behind me and bumped my hip with hers.

“Hey, girl! Are you having fun?” she yelled over the loud, thumping music.

“Yeah! I wish Caleb would stop trying to get Trevor plastered though,” I told her.

“I think Trevor can hold his own,” Allison said with a smile. “You two make such a cute couple! Trevor is a good catch! You better hold onto him!”

I gave her a weak smile and turned to pay for my drink. Two guys walked up to the bar beside us. Allison gave them her flirty grin and they smiled back.

Allison looked at me wide eyed and innocently. “They’re cuuuute!” she dragged the word out for emphasis.

“Allison,” I reminded her. “We’re both taken.”

“So!” she teased. She turned to the guys and waved.

“Hello ladies,” one of the guys called. “Would either of you care to dance?”

I glared at Allison. I wanted to see how she planned to get out of this one.

“I would love to!” Allison disappeared into the crowd with the strange guy.

I stood there in shock. I wondered what Eric would say when he found out. It didn’t take me long to get my answer. There, in the middle of the dance floor, was Eric. He was dancing with another girl, tall and blonde. Allison grinned and waved at me. If her arms were long enough she would’ve picked the chin of my gaping mouth off the floor. Apparently Allison and Eric had some sort of open relationship. It was a strange way of maintaining a relationship, but I guess it worked for them. Trevor would never be open to that way of dating.

The other guy leaned toward me. “So, do you wanna dance, too?”

I sipped my soda and fumbled for the words. “My boyfriend might not like that too much.”

He looked around the room. “Well, your boyfriend isn’t here right now, is he?”

I pointed toward the men’s room. “He’s in the bathroom.”
He’ll be staggering out any minute
, I thought,
and it won’t be pretty if he catches some guy chatting it up with his girlfriend.

“Well, when he comes out, you can tell him you found someone better.” His arrogance was irritating.

“Thanks anyway,” I told him, hoping he’d take the hint and find someone else to annoy.

Trevor stepped out of the bathroom just in time to see the nuisance flirting with me.

“Oh,” the guy stopped short. “You didn’t tell me your boyfriend was Trevor Kent.”

“You didn’t ask,” I said flatly.

Trevor strutted up to me and wrapped his arm around me, taking ownership.

“Uh…hey, man,” the guy stammered. “Sorry…I wasn’t trying to steal your girl. I mean, I didn’t know she was yours. Sorry, dude.”

The music blared while the thumping bass reverberated in my chest. My stomach clenched into a ball of nerves, fearing the worst from ‘drunk Trevor.’ I looked around the dim club, praying for a bouncer in a black security shirt to be standing nearby. Lights bounced and flashed across the faces of unsuspecting dancers. Didn’t they realize a fight was about to break out? I frantically searched for the emergency exits, hoping to make a quick getaway once the first punch had been thrown. However, what happened next didn’t end in a bloody brawl. I couldn’t have been more shocked, but I welcomed the exchange.

“Hey, aren’t you the quarterback from Templeton?” Trevor asked.

“Yep,” he nodded. “Joe Cockerham.”

“I thought so!” Trevor stuck out his hand to the guy. “I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s good to meet you!”

“Oh, yeah,” Joe seemed relieved. “I’ve heard a lot about you too! With your stats, you’re probably headed to Ohio State or Michigan on a scholarship.”

“I hope so. I’ve heard you’re probably headed to Georgia.”

“Probably. I have a couple prospects, but Georgia is my first pick.”

Trevor nodded his head in agreement. “I feel ya.”

“Well, man, I’ll see you around.” Joe tipped his cup toward Trevor and walked toward a few of his buddies standing nearby.

“See ya!” Trevor said with a smile and then turned his attention toward me. His pleasant demeanor dissipated, and a look of pure unadulterated anger replaced his fading smile. “So, you thought you could sneak around behind my back, huh?”

“No, he came up to me. I told him I had a boyfriend,” I looked at him wide-eyed with fear. Being drunk and angry was a scary combination with Trevor.

“What did I tell you about talking to other guys?”

“Trevor, I—” I squeaked.

Before I had a chance to finish my sentence, Trevor grabbed my arm. Pulling me close to his body so no one would see the pain he was causing me, he hissed into my ear, “Well, let me put it this way…if you ever talk to another guy again, you’ll wish you hadn’t.” He was squeezing my arm so tightly I could almost feel the capillaries popping under my skin.

I winced from the pain. “Ouch. Let go, Trevor. Please,” I whispered. I didn’t want to cause a scene. Things might get a whole lot
worse
if I caused a scene.

“I just want to make sure I’m getting my point across.” He glared at me with his nose only inches away from mine.

“Okay, okay. Please, just let me go,” I begged quietly.

“I mean it Kaitlyn,” he growled into my ear. “You’re just asking for trouble.”

There’s that word again—
trouble
. To me, trouble translated to a 9mm handgun.

He turned to Caleb who was kissing Eva on the bar stool next to us. “Come on, man. I need more alcohol!” Trevor grabbed Caleb by the jacket and dragged him off the stool away from Eva. The two of them faltered toward the men’s room.

“I love it when Caleb is drunk,” she grinned. “He’s so kissable!”

“I wish I could say the same about Trevor,” I muttered. Unfortunately, Trevor had gotten really good at camouflaging his abuse in front of people.

I decided to take some time to get a little fresh air. Although Club Millennium was strictly non-smoking on Teen Night, the smoky smell from the rest of the week still lingered in the air. I clutched my tender arm, sore from Trevor’s death grip, and walked toward the exit. Sobs caught in my throat, but my frustration and embarrassment restrained my tears.

Stepping outside, I breathed a sigh of relief. The cool night air was refreshing. Cars of all shapes and sizes lined the parking lot. Blazing street lights brightened the night sky so much I could barely see the stars in the distance. The full moon shone brightly like a giant flashlight in the sky. I could still hear the thumping from the music inside the building; the constant rhythm had a calming effect. Kicking the gravel under my feet, I casually stepped around the corner of the building and out of site of the main entrance. A quiet bench beckoned me. Graciously, I sat down to enjoy my moment of peace.

A group of students had gathered farther down the side of the building. I could tell by their murmurings and laughter that they were probably up to no good. Trying to ignore them, I made myself look busy by looking at my cell phone and pretending to text someone. The sound of a familiar voice enticed me to look up. I could see Chris standing in the middle of the group that was obviously enthralled by his presence. He was engrossed in telling his story to them. I only caught bits and pieces, but it sounded like he was recounting his miserable days behind bars. I think he hoped to deter others from making similar mistakes. Instead, I could tell the others were deeply fascinated by his experience in juvenile detention. A break in the crowd caused him to catch a glimpse of me. For an instant, he seemed to lose his train of thought, searching my eyes for an explanation.

“Sorry, guys,” I heard him say, “I gotta go.” Looking curiously at me, he walked toward my bench. His sexy swagger had me eyeing him from head to toe. He wore saggy jeans that hung loosely off his hips. A white T-shirt revealed the taut muscles of his chest. A gray, zip-up hoodie carelessly cloaked his shoulders. His silver piercings glinted under the light of the street lamp. His black billed beanie sat cockeyed on his head, while his thick tongued sneakers, loosely tied, flopped around on his feet as he sauntered toward me. His chestnut eyes stayed fixated on me, while the others from the group stayed engrossed in conversation. No one from the group seemed to notice me. I breathed a sigh of relief. “Hey,” Chris smiled with a quick nod of his head. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

“Yeah, I don’t come here often,” I admitted.

“Did you come here alone?” Chris glanced around. “I expected to see your entourage following you.”

“Haha,” I retorted. “You’re a real comedian.” I rolled my eyes.

He laughed. “I’m kidding! I just came over here to make sure you were okay. You look lost.”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I said. “Everyone else is inside. I just needed some fresh air, that’s all.”

He eyed me suspiciously.

“Seriously, I’m fine,” I lied. “Thanks for checking on me.”

He hesitated. It seemed as though he were debating sitting down next to me on the bench. I wished he would sit down. I wanted him to—no,
needed
him to sit down. He chose to stand instead. “There’s that word ‘fine’ again. Kaitlyn, are you sure you’re all right?” His voice sounded so protective, much unlike the asshole in the club drowning himself with Caleb’s flask. Chris stared at me, probing me for an answer. I feared his eyes would burn holes through mine and he would see the truth I tried to hide behind them.

“Really, I’m fine,” I lied again. Tears threatened to escape my eyes. I looked down at my throbbing arm, already bruised, and hurriedly covered it up with my jacket.

Chris’s eyes narrowed; I could tell then that he knew I was lying. “Listen,” he said, “I realize you don’t know me very well, but something tells me there’s more to the story than you let on.”

I stared down at my jacket, willing my tears back.

He pulled a Swiss Army knife from the front pocket of his jeans and grabbed a small piece of paper that looked like a wadded up receipt from his back pocket. Flipping out the tiny ball point pen from the knife, he wrote something down on the back of a gas station receipt and handed it to me. “Look, here’s my phone number and my screen name. Call me or IM me if you ever need me. Ever. Even if it’s three in the morning. I mean that.” He looked at me solemnly.

I looked at the receipt, glancing at his screen name:

Ha! Brilliant play on words.
I managed a smile. “Thanks. Mine is Cheerchick88.”

“Good to know,” he said and looked down at me, grinning. His eyes penetrated mine, melting my heart. After a prolonged moment, he turned and walked around the corner of the building out of sight.