I pushed my memory as far as it would go into the evening. The making out didn’t ring a bell, but the jealousy did.
Abby looked like she was about to blow her top, and I recoiled from her glare.
“How pissed are you?” I asked, waiting for a high-pitched explosion to infiltrate my already throbbing head.
Abby stomped to the bedroom, and I followed her, closing the door softly behind us.
Abby turned. Her expression was different from what I’d seen before. I wasn’t sure how to read it. “Do you remember anything you said to me last night?” she asked.
“No. Why? Was I mean to you?”
“No you weren’t mean to me! You . . . we . . .” She covered her eyes with her hands.
When her hand went up, a new, shimmering piece of jewelry fell from her wrist to her forearm, catching my eye. “Where’d this come from?” I asked, wrapping my fingers around her wrist.
“It’s mine,” she said, pulling away.
“I’ve never seen it before. It looks new.”
“It is.”
“Where’d you get it?”
“Parker gave it to me about fifteen minutes ago,” she said.
Rage welled up within me. The I-need-to-punch-something-before-I’ll-feel-better kind. “What the f**k was that douche bag doing here? Did he stay the night?”
She crossed her arms, unfazed. “He went shopping for my birthday present this morning and brought it by.”
“It’s not your birthday, yet.” My anger was boiling over, but the fact that she wasn’t at all intimidated helped me to keep it in check.
“He couldn’t wait,” she said, lifting her chin.
“No wonder I had to drag your ass out of his car, sounds like you were . . .” I trailed off, pressing my lips together to keep the rest from coming out. Not a good time to vomit words out of my mouth I couldn’t take back.
“What? Sounds like I was what?”
I grit my teeth. “Nothing. I’m just pissed off, and I was going to say something shitty that I didn’t mean.”
“It’s never stopped you before.”
“I know. I’m working on it,” I said, walking to the door. “I’ll let you get dressed.”
When I reached for the knob, a pain shot from my elbow up my arm. I touched it, and it was tender. Lifting it revealed what I’d suspected: a fresh bruise. My mind raced to figure out what could have caused it, and I recalled Abby telling me she was a virgin, me falling, and laughing, and then Abby helping me to get undressed . . . and then I . . . Oh, God.
“I fell on the stairs last night. And you helped me to bed . . . We,” I said, taking a step toward her. The memory of me crashing against her while she stood in front of the closet half naked rushed into my mind.
I had almost f**ked her, taken her virginity when I was drunk. The thought of what might have happened made me feel ashamed for the first time since . . . ever.
“No we didn’t. Nothing happened,” she said, emphatically shaking her head.
I cringed. “You fog up Parker’s windows, I pull you out of the car, and then I try to . . .” I tried to shake the memory out of my head. It was sickening. Thankfully, even in my drunken stupor, I’d stopped, but what if I hadn’t? Abby didn’t deserve for her first time to be like that with anyone, least of all me. Wow. For a while there, I’d really thought I had changed. It only took a bottle of whiskey and the mention of the word virgin for me to return to my dick ways.
I turned for the door and grabbed the knob. “You’re turning me into a f**king psycho, Pigeon,” I growled over my shoulder. “I don’t think straight when I’m around you.”
“So it’s my fault?”
I turned. My eyes fell from her face to her robe, to her legs, and then her feet, returning to her eyes. “I don’t know. My memory is a little hazy . . . but I don’t recall you saying no.”
She took a step forward. At first she looked ready to pounce, but her face softened, and her shoulders fell. “What do you want me to say, Travis?”
I glanced at the bracelet, and then back at her. “You were hoping I wouldn’t remember?”
“No! I was pissed that you forgot!”
She made No. Fucking. Sense. “Why?”
“Because if I would have . . . if we would have . . . and you didn’t . . . I don’t know why! I just was!”
She was about to admit it. She had to. Abby was pissed at me because she was going to give me her virginity, and I didn’t remember what had happened. This was it. This was my moment. We were finally going to get our shit straight, but time was slipping away. Shepley was going to come tell Abby any minute to go run errands with America per our plans for the party.
I rushed toward her, stopping inches away. My hands touched each side of her face. “What are we doin’, Pidge?”
Her eyes began at my belt, and then traveled slowly up to my eyes. “You tell me.”
Her face went blank, as if admitting deep feelings for me would make her whole system shut down.
A knock on the door triggered my anger, but I stayed focused.
“Abby?” Shepley said. “Mare was going to run some errands; she wanted me to let you know in case you needed to go.”
“Pidge?” I said, staring into her eyes.
“Yeah,” she called to Shepley. “I have some stuff I need to take care of.”
“All right, she’s ready to go when you are,” Shepley said, his footsteps disappearing down the hall.
“Pidge?” I said, desperate to stay on track.
She took a few steps backward, pulled a few things from the closet, and then slid past me. “Can we talk about this later? I have a lot to do today.”
“Sure,” I said, deflated.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Porcelain
ABBY DIDN’T STAY IN THE BATHROOM LONG. AS A MATTER of fact, she couldn’t leave the apartment fast enough. I tried not to let it throw me. Abby usually spazzed out whenever something serious came up.
The front door shut, and America’s car pulled out of the parking lot. Once again, the apartment seemed stuffy and too empty at the same time. I hated being there without her and wondered what I had done before we met.
I walked over to a small plastic bag from the pharmacy that I’d picked up a few days before. I’d uploaded some pics of me and Abby from my phone, and ordered some prints.
The white walls finally had some color. Just as the last picture was tacked in place, Shepley knocked on the door.
“Hey, man.”
“Yeah?”
“We’ve got shit to do.”
“I know.”
We drove to Brazil’s apartment, mostly in silence. When we arrived, Brazil opened the door, holding at least two dozen balloons. The long silver strings blew into his face, and he waved them away, spitting some away from his lips.
“I was wondering if you guys had canceled. Gruver is bringing the cake and liquor.”
We walked past him into the front room. Their walls didn’t look much different from mine, but their apartment had either come “fully furnished” or they got their couch from the Salvation Army.
Brazil continued, “I had some redshirts grab some food and Mikey’s kick-ass speakers. One of the Sigma Cappa girls has some lights we can borrow—don’t worry, I didn’t invite them. I said it was for a party next weekend. We should be set.”