Page 16

16

brITT

MESSED UP

S itting across from Laine, Jess, and Kari, a table of pancakes and muffins separate us as I agonize and press my palms over my eyes. “I need help, guys. I’m desperate.”

“What’s your problem?” Shoving a whole slice of bacon into her mouth, Laine smiles with greasy lips. “Tell us your woes, baby doll.”

“Brad keeps asking me out. He won’t take a damn hint.”

“Ugh,” she grunts like a pig. “I hate Brad. He’s weird.”

Jess’s eyes narrow. “I don’t know Brad, but why don’t we like him?”

“I don’t know. He’s nice, but I don’t feel anything when I’m around him. He’s just not the one, so I don’t want to go out on a date with him. He won’t stop asking, and every time I say no, somehow, I feel like the bitch.”

“It must be hard being so beautiful,” Kari teases. “To have all the hot guys asking you out all the time. I can see how that would be taxing on your sensibilities.” Rolling her eyes, she catches the wadded-up napkin I toss at her head. “Did you ever watch that movie How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days? It’s an old movie, but it comes with a really valuable lesson.”

“Um, no…” Laughing, I fork in my own slice of bacon. “What was the lesson?”

“It was basically a textbook on how to get a guy to break up with you. So instead of you trying to deny him , you should say yes, then turn up the crazy. Make him break up with you?”

“Um…” I don’t get it .

“Act crazy! Call him six-hundred times a day. Meet his mom. Go super needy until he’s sprinting away and changing his number.”

“Say yes and act needy? No!”

“Nuh-uh.” Laine obnoxiously wags an oily finger. “He’d be into the needy thing. He’d lap it up, then he’d tie you to his bed.” She purses her lips. “And I don’t mean that in the sexy way.”

“Why not just start dating someone else?” Kari suggests. “Ignore Brad, make out with the new guy on Brad’s hood, let his presence do the talking.”

“Well, I kinda already did that. You guys remember that guy from the club?”

“The one with the nice ass?” Jess asks with a sassy smile.

“You mean the guy whose car you keyed?” Laine glares. Laine has a thing for cars, so what I did has created a wedge in a twenty-year friendship that might never heal.

I’m not even sorry… not really.

“Yeah, him. Well… I saw him again a couple weeks ago.”

“Where?” Kari asks excitedly.

“At school, actually.”

Laine sets her coffee mug down with a clank. “Is he a dad?”

“No.” I sip mine to hide my smile. “He’s the uncle to one of my students.”

“Which one?”

“I’m absolutely not telling you!” I laugh. “Anyway, he was picking up… a certain student. Brad was hounding me for a date, Jack saw.” I shrug. “He bailed me out, he kinda pissed on my leg, kissed my head, said we had a date. Brad saw the whole thing. In fact, I think Jack got extra pleasure out of laying it on thick.”

“Oh my god,” Kari fans her face. “So? How was your date?”

“No. We didn’t actually go out on a date. It was just a lie. I didn’t even know he’d be at the school, but he bailed me out anyway. Brad saw the whole show, but he’s still asking me out. So your ‘date someone else’ plan ain’t gonna work.”

“Wait,” Laine snaps. “You key that sexy car like a damn Neanderthal and embarrass all of womankind, and yet, he still bailed you out?”

She’s super mad about the car.

“Well, I saw him again a few months back. He said sorry, I said sorry.”

“Wait up!” Jess snaps. “Are you seeing this guy?”

“No! I just saw him. Twice. But I didn’t see him between those times, and I haven’t seen him since. ”

“That’s a shame,” she grumbles. “I’d approve of that relationship on the grounds of he’s so damn fine.”

Rolling my eyes, I toss a chunk of croissant that she simply swats away. “I’m glad to have your approval, Jess, but either way, we’re not… anything. We don’t hang out or anything. And now we’ve gone way off point. We’re talking about Brad, not Jack.”

“I’d much rather talk about Jack.”

I purse my lips. “Are you done? I’m desperate for advice to shake off a needy dude who wants to meet my mom, and you’re mentally screwing a man you’ve never met.”

She scoffs and sits back with her coffee. “I technically did meet him; I just didn’t talk to him, and he didn’t talk to me, but I sure as shit met him that night in my dreams.” Grinning, she licks coffee foam from the tip of her pinky. “But now you had to go and take him off the market.”

“He’s not off the market! I’m not seeing him.”

“Right,” Laine jumps in. “But you fucked him in real life, which trumps any dream banging. Girl code means he’s ruined. He may as well wear a sign that says ‘Used by Britt. No other bitches allowed.’”

Laughing, I shake my head. “Shall we take a minute of silence for your vag?”

Laine nods. “I’d appreciate that. I mean, what’s the point of even living anymore?”

Ten silent seconds later – where I definitely think about Jack’s ruined penis and how it made me feel – I clap my hands before I start mourning a penis that felt pretty damn good.

“Good, we’re done. Now help me with Brad.”

Jess groans. “I’d rather not.”

The very next day, I find myself sitting in my living room with my feet up on the couch and an ice-cold beer clasped between my hands, watching my idiot brothers bicker over the TV like they’re ten again.

Alex wants to watch the fight channel.

Scotch wants to watch MTV.

I just want them both to shut the hell up and act their damn age.

Sitting in yoga pants and messy hair, I nurse my beer and silently wonder how they know Jack.

I don’t dare ask. I won’t ever bring it up, but I’m so ridiculously curious, it almost hurts .

Throwing a PlayStation remote at Scotch’s head, X snatches up the TV remote and flicks it back to the fights. “You don’t even live here, fucker. Get lost. I get one day off a year; I wanna watch this.”

“I don’t wanna watch this shit again,” he complains. “It’s lame, and it’s the same assholes fighting every time. How is it not rigged?”

“Then leave!” Alex dramatically waves toward the front door. “You have your own TV at your place. And the fights aren’t rigged.” X grins and runs his tongue along his teeth. “You know they can fight.”

“He cold-cocked me!”

“Yeah, and it was like, half a decade ago. It’s time to move on and stop lusting after a married chick.”

Come again? “What the hell are you two talking about?”

Scotch’s eyes narrow to dangerous slits. “I’m not lusting after her, dumbass. She’s cool. She’s my friend. Hell, she’s my boss half the time. But that doesn’t mean I have to like the asshole who cold-cocked me.”

Alex chuckles tauntingly. “He got you good, too, huh? Popped you right on the chin.”

Picking up the game controller, Scotch pegs it back at X. “You’re an asshole! You’re my brother, not theirs.”

“I’m on your side when they’re listening.” Alex shrugs casually. “I stood up for you more times than I can count. But behind closed doors, when the arrogant assholes can’t hear, I’m a serious fan. If I was a chick, I’d be fangirling all over the place.”

“That’s fucking gay, man. You’re lucky I don’t tell them.”

Alex barks out a laugh. “They’d never in a million years believe you.”

“Who are you talking about?” I ask again.

Who is my oldest, biggest, most badass brother fangirling over?

“Kincaids,” Alex murmurs and turns the TV up.

“Assholes,” Scotch grumbles.

Jesus, if only my brothers knew I slept over and helped Jack babysit ten Kincaid children recently. “Wait, who cold-cocked you?”

“Jon,” Scotch grumbles. “He was going ballistic at his girl one time. I was trying to do the right thing, stepped in to tell him to cool it–”

“And Jon decked him.” Alex laughs. “Knocked you the fuck out, little brother.”

“Whatever.” Scotch rolls his eyes. “I don’t actually have a problem with them, but I don’t wanna watch them fight, either. And I especially don’t wanna watch their smug faces every time they win.”

“Which is every fucking year.”

“Not this year,” Scotch adds. “Handed the belt back. ”

“You know why though, right?” Not so smug anymore, Alex’s head droops. “That shit was messed up.”

“Yeah, I know why. I haven’t seen him in months. He hasn’t been into the club.”

“I’ve seen him around,” Alex adds. “He’s staying out of trouble. Finally.”

I’m dying to know what trouble Jon’s been in. What was messed up ? But I can’t ask, because then I’d have to explain how I know him.

There’s no incentive good enough that I’ll just volunteer that information. It’s a mystery I might never know, so letting it go and taking a sip of my beer, I think about Tink, the tiny chick who just happens to be Jon’s wife.

My brother was crushing on her. I didn’t know that, but it does my heart good to see him finally looking at other women again.