Walking Disaster

sex. Other than that? No difference.”
    “There is a huge,
huge
difference. Is Shep bringing home different girls every night? Are you going to the party tomorrow to hang out with a guy with definite dating potential?
You know I can’t get involved with Travis, Mare. I don’t even know why we’re discussing it.”
    “I’m not seeing things, Abby. You have spent almost every moment with him for the last month. Admit it, you have feelings for him.”
    I couldn’t listen to another word. “Let it go, Mare,” I said.
    Both girls jumped at the sound of my voice. Abby’s eyes met mine. She didn’t seem embarrassed or sorry at all, which only pissed me off more. I’d stuck my neck out, and she
slit my throat.
    Before I said something shitty, I retreated to my room. Sitting didn’t help. Neither did standing, pacing, or push-ups. The walls closed in on me more every second. Rage boiled inside of
me like an unstable chemical, ready to blow.
    Getting out of the apartment was my only option, to clear my head, and try to relax with a few shots. The Red. I could go to the Red. Cami was working the bar. She could tell me what to do. She
always knew how to talk me down. Trenton liked her for the same reason. She was the oldest sister of three boys, and didn’t flinch when it came to our anger issues.
    I slipped on a T-shirt and jeans, and then grabbed sunglasses, my bike keys, and riding jacket, and then shoved my feet inside my boots before heading back down the hall.
    Abby’s eyes widened when she saw me round the corner. Thank God I had on my shades. I didn’t want her to see the hurt in my eyes.
    “You’re leaving?” she asked, sitting up. “Where are you going?”
    I refused to acknowledge the pleading in her voice. “Out.”

CHAPTER TEN

Broken
    I T DIDN ’ T TAKE CAMI LONG TO FIGURE OUT I WASN ’ T good company.
She kept the beers coming as I sat in my usual stool at the bar of The Red. Colors from the lights above chased one another around the room, and the music was almost loud enough to drown out my
thoughts.
    My pack of Marlboro Reds was nearly gone, but that wasn’t the reason for the heavy feeling in my chest. A few girls had come and gone, trying to strike up conversation, but I
couldn’t lift my line of sight from the half-burnt cigarette nestled between two of my fingers. The ash was so long it was just a matter of time until it fell away, so I just watched the
remaining embers flicker against the paper, trying to keep my mind off of what sinking feelings the music couldn’t muffle.
    When the crowd at the bar thinned, and Cami wasn’t moving a thousand miles per hour, she sat an empty shot glass in front of me, and then filled it to the brim with Jim Beam. I grabbed for
it, but she covered my black leather wristband with her tattooed fingers that spelled baby doll when she held her fists together.
    “Okay, Trav. Let’s hear it.”
    “Hear what?” I asked, making a feeble attempt to pull away.
    She shook her head. “The girl?”
    The glass touched my lips, and I tilted my head back, letting the liquid burn down my throat. “What girl?”
    Cami rolled her eyes. “What girl. Seriously? Who do you think you’re talking to?”
    “All right, all right. It’s Pigeon.”
    “
Pigeon
? You’re joking.”
    I laughed once. “Abby. She’s a pigeon. A demonic pigeon that fucks with my head so bad I can’t think straight. Nothing makes sense anymore, Cam. Every rule I’ve ever
made’s getting broken one by one. I’m a pussy. No . . . worse. I’m Shep.”
    Cami laughed. “Be nice.”
    “You’re right. Shepley’s a good guy.”
    “Be nice to yourself, too,” she said, throwing a rag on the counter and pushing it around in circles. “Falling for someone isn’t a sin, Trav, Jesus.”
    I looked around. “I’m confused. You talking to me or Jesus?”
    “I’m serious. So you have feelings for her. So what?”
    “She hates me.”
    “Nah.”
    “No, I heard her tonight. By accident. She thinks I’m a scumbag.”
    “She said that?”
    “Pretty much.”
    “Well, you kinda are.”
    I frowned. “Thanks a lot.”
    She held out her hands, her elbows on the bar. “Based on your past behavior, do you disagree? My point is . . . maybe for her, you wouldn’t be. Maybe for her, you could be a better
man.” She poured another shot, and I didn’t give her the chance to stop me before throwing it back.
    “You’re right. I’ve been a scumbag. Could I change? I don’t