“My inner bad girl is being punched in the throat by my inner sensible girl who has had about all she can stomach of this scene for one night,” I told her, handing my empty glass to Lyla.
“Heading home all ready, Riley? You are looking pretty washed out.” My shoulders stiffened and I saw Maysie’s lips purse together.
“And you’ve never been able to stop the stupid shit that comes out of your mouth, so I say we’re both having a crappy evening,” I snarled, giving Jaz my best say one more word and you die look. Jaz’s answering laugh was fake and slightly nervous and was akin to nails on a chalkboard. I was really tempted to tear her hair out. But flicking my eyes over to my traitorous ex who was watching our exchange somewhat anxiously, I knew without a doubt that the douch bag wasn’t worth a chick fight.
“Fuck off, Jaz,” Maysie piped in. Jaz’s eyes widened and I could see she was hurt by the curt tone in Maysie’s voice. Jaz and Maysie had always been friends. But what Miss Sloppy Seconds didn’t understand was my roommate’s loyalties ran deep where I was concerned. You mess with me, you mess with Maysie Ardin. We were a rag tag duo.
“I’m only worried about her, Mays. I didn’t mean anything by it,” Jaz backpedaled. I snorted and shook my head, letting Maysie know she didn’t need to jump into this particular fight. Because I was hanging up the gloves. Some things weren’t worth the hassle.
I turned in my stool, purposefully giving Jaz and Dumbass Damien my back. “I think I will come after all. Even if I’m looking a little washed out,” I said with a grin. Maysie smiled back.
“I guess I’ll see you guys later,” Jaz said but Maysie and I ignored her. She finally got the point and slinked back to the booth where Damien was watching. I didn’t even bother to look in his direction.
“Can I get another soda, Lyla?” I called out to the bartender over the deafening roar of Generation Rejects’ music. I sat through the remainder of the set and even made myself engage in some seat dancing. Woohoo! Riley Walker was cutting loose! Look out world!
I waited with Maysie while the guys broke down their equipment and basked in the fawning adulation of their fans. “I need to send Vivian and Gracie a text letting them know we’re heading over to the party,” Maysie said pulling out her phone.
“I thought Cole and Vivian broke up,” I commented, nodding my head in the lead singer’s direction as he squeezed a random girl’s ass. Vivian Bailey was Maysie’s former sorority sister. She had graduated in May and was taking a year off to “find herself,” whatever the hell that meant. In my opinion if you need to look, then perhaps you shouldn’t be found.
Vivian and Cole had some sort of friends with benefits situation. Except they weren’t ever friends and I was pretty sure Cole shared those “benefits” with most of the girls who came out to see their shows.
Whatever they had ended a couple of weeks ago in pure Vivian Bailey fashion. Meaning there was lots of screaming. Lots of drama. Lots of piss and vinegar spewed in the most public way possible. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how much of a voyeur into people’s lives you are), it happened to be right after the Rejects’ show downtown. Vivian had been drunk and Cole’s attention was a little too focused on a girl who wasn’t Vivien.
Apparently there had been high volume yelling, some glasses were smashed. Vivian pulled out a clump of hair from the poor girl who had the unfortunate luck of catching Cole’s eye that evening. All in all, it had been a melee of epic proportions. And I had missed it. It was the one time I wished I had let Maysie talk me into joining her. Because watching Vivian lose her shit was better than any reality television show.
Maysie shook her head as she wound up a guitar cable and handed it to Mitch. “Yeah, well Gracie said Cole spent the night last weekend. So who the hell knows….ahh!” Maysie screamed as Jordan grabbed her and bent her low over his arm, kissing her soundly in front of everyone.
His bandmates whistled, Barton’s staff catcalled, and there were a lot of pissed off groupies. I distinctly heard “whore” and “slut” muttered not so quietly. I glared at the group of girls behind me.
“You got a problem?” I asked them pointedly. I eyeballed each of them, giving them the ubiquitous girl once over, taking in their too tight clothes and cheap efforts to look sexy. I curled my lip in disgust and gave them my best sneer.
The girls, three of them, sneered back weakly. “No,” a red head said petulantly, sounding like a child who didn’t get the toy she wanted.
I flicked my fingers in their direction. “Well I think it’s time you leave. Barton’s is closing and this,” I motioned to the group of people who had gathered around the guys as they had their after show beers. “Is a private party.” I leaned in closer. “Meaning you aren’t invited,” I said slowly and purposefully.
The one with the overly styled blonde hair tossed her locks over her shoulder. “Bitch,” she bit out.
I smiled. “You know it,” I said to them as they turned and left.
Maysie had seen the whole exchange and shook her head at me. “Retract the claws she-lion. If I got upset every time one of these girls said something nasty about me, I’d never leave my room. And I’ve been there done that, girlfriend,” she teased.
I shrugged. “What can I say, you bring out my maternal instincts.” Maysie hugged me around the shoulders and I decided to let her. Like I said, she was the touchy-feely kind.
“You ready to head out, baby?” Jordan wrapped his arm around Maysie’s waist and kissed the back of her neck. Her eyes drooped in that way that meant she was melting into a puddle at his feet. I had to look away.
Excessive PDA made me mildly nauseous.
“Maysie says you’re coming this time, Riley. You wanna catch a ride with us?” Jordan asked, tucking his hand into Maysie’s jean pocket, making her giggle.
“I’m cool. I’ll follow you there. You know I like to have my own wheels. Plus, I’ve seen the trailer for the Jordan/Maysie p**n show. I could do without the full feature,” I joked. Jordan laughed and Maysie flushed in embarrassment.
I walked out of the bar, trying not to care that Damien and Jaz were noticeably missing. I hated that it hurt. That I had been brought so low by the one person I had trusted with my heart. Damien Green was a big pile of suck.
“Time to let your hair down, Riley. Fun is definitely on the agenda,” Jordan said as I unlocked my car. I pumped my fist in the air and let out a whoop.