I was wrong to judge and have made it a point not to do that in the future, but Mr. Douchebag sitting in front of me?
I’m not wrong about him.
“I don’t remember you.”
His eyes meet mine with an icy, confident stare. “You will now.”
What an arrogant motherfucker.
I walk back to Brandon’s house, a few blocks from the Aggieville diner I chose for breakfast to try to curb the hangover from last night.
I have no idea why I decided to seek Brandon out. I hadn’t even seen him since Christmas like what, nine months ago?
He’s living the sober, miserable, fucking mundane life now. He used to be one hell of a partier, I mean, we met in parent-appointed rehab, for Christ’s sake. Neither of us had ever taken it seriously, but then he met Gabby, and everything changed.
I’m happy for the poor bastard. At least, as happy as I can be. He left me with his late father’s house and moved into a shitty little apartment in Kansas City until he decided to uproot and move to Manhattan while his girl finishes school.
He left me a voicemail telling me where I could reach him, but even though we lived in the same area code, I didn’t see him much.
He tried to get me to see the light once after he chose his new path, but I quickly shut that shit down.
I’m not like Brandon. I mean, sure, we come from the same privileged background, fancy cars, bigass houses, unlimited funds, all of that, but I don’t have a tragic past that lead me down a “bad” road. His life was totally fucked-up with an abusive father who pimped him out when he was really young.
And I don’t have a problem with drugs and alcohol, I just like them. A lot.
I reach the porch of the rental house right off campus, and Brandon is sitting on the steps. “Feel better?”
I laugh at that and hop up to the top step, taking a seat next to him. “Nah, I’ll grab a pick-me-up tonight.” I look around his neighborhood. “There have to be some parties the night before classes start, right?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
I roll my eyes, completely over this AA version of my friend. “Oh, you fucking know. There was a time when college parties were your bread and butter.”
“Blake . . .” I know Brandon’s warning tone by now, but it doesn’t bother me. To be scared, you have to be capable of fear, which means you’ve allowed yourself to feel, and I don’t do that.
“What? Can’t even talk about the old days?”
“I said you can stay here, even took a little heat from Gabby for it, but if you fuck with my sobriety, you’re gone.”
“Aw, is that what’s wrong? She withholding pussy? Because looking around . . .”
I notice his fists flexing at his sides. He’s still the same Brandon, just locked in the cage of so-called normalcy. “Stop.”
“Right.” I hold my hands up in the air, mocking surrender. “Only Gabby for you.”
“Damn straight.”
I stand up on the top step. “More pussy for me. You know me, I’m a fan of all you can eat.” I look around seeing a pair of blond co-eds, both dressed in short shorts and sports bras jogging past, their eyes locked on Brandon and me as they run past, giggling. “And this looks like the best place for me.”
Brandon stands, and I hear him sigh. “Why did you come here all beat to hell?”
He didn’t ask for an explanation when I showed up early this morning in a cab from the airport. It’s not his style, and I’m sure he assumed from my eye and hands that I was in some sort of fight.
The truth is, after I was released from the hospital a few days ago, I realized I was getting slightly out of control in my boredom and maybe I needed to pull it back a bit.
Not entirely. But enough so I don’t end up six feet under any time soon. And what is a better cure for boredom than a college town with a ton of hot chicks looking to party?
Of course, the waitress chick at the diner didn’t really scream “good time,” although she did slightly amuse me until I remembered why she looked so familiar to me.
She’s Gabby’s best friend, and I’m smart enough to know that makes her off-limits while I’m staying with Brandon and Gabby. That fucker gets mean when it comes to his girl, and I don’t mess with him when he’s mad, unless I’m really fucking out of things to do.
But she was fucking hot, that’s for sure. And she seemed slightly impervious to my charm, although I’m certain most of that was an act. Her light, brown hair was pulled up into a messy bun on her head, and those stormy, gray eyes were almost haunting when she walked over to my table, worn and tired but still beautiful.
Barely any makeup on that pretty face that frankly didn’t need it. Pale, pink lip gloss on those full, heart-shaped lips. Her thick, perfectly-shaped eyebrows gave away her real emotions and how irritated she was with me, which of course I ate up.
I couldn’t stop picturing her naked the entire time she served me with quiet repugnance. The jeans she had on didn’t give too much away, but they did show off a firm ass with at least a palmful of each cheek available. The white t-shirt, with orange collar and the word “trouble” printed on it gave away even less, but I could tell by the white, cotton bra I could see underneath that she has a nice set of tits, on the smaller side, but still full.
Of course, I’m not a total idiot, so I say none of that to Brandon. He doesn’t even need to know I ran into Elle. I think that’s her name. I remember him mentioning her once or twice. I think she’s the only friend Gabby has. “Just needed a change of scenery.”
“What the hell are you going to do while you’re here?”
I shrug, winking at a girl across the street unlocking her car. She smiles over at me, tosses her hair and climbs into her car. “I’m sure I can find something.”
“Look, I’m not the same person I was a few years ago, drinking and debauchery aren’t my things anymore.”
“And that was your fucking choice.”
He’s in my face now, not happy with me. “That’s right. It was my fucking choice to be sober and stay away from my old life. If you’re going to be here, you’re not going to be shoving your bad fucking decisions in my face.”
His jaw ticks, and I stand tall, perfectly fine with his anger. “I’ll be on my best behavior when I’m under your roof.”
Gotta love loopholes like that.
“You wanna come work with me?”
Do not laugh at him. He doesn’t like that. He started working for Gabby’s older brother at his custom car place and said he really liked it. So, he found a place out here to hire him. I personally think it’s bullshit, knowing how much he has in his bank account after his father died. I mean, he was the only heir to a massive fortune and still the fucker wants to work? An actual job? It doesn’t make any sense to me.
I take a seat on the top seat again and people-watch. “No thanks.”
“It’ll keep you busy.”
“I’ll be busy enough.” I hold my hands up, silencing him before he can lecture me again. “When I’m not here.”
He takes a seat next to me. “You ever think about rehab?”
“Nope.” Now that I’m not a minor, my mother has given up. She’s since gained praise for trying so hard with me while I was under her care and then letting me go for my own good. Of course, I still have access to my trust fund, can’t have me living in squalor. That wouldn’t look good, and her reputation is important to her.