Back in the Saddle (Jessica Brodie Diaries #1)(66)

“So, whatcha doin’?” Adam asked, an insane ability to focus through all things.

“Well, there’s only one cab I see, so let’s grab it.”

We, all four... wait... four?

Oh look, William was taking home that ugly blond with the bad boob job. He planned on climbing Mt. Boob. I am not good enough, but she is?

“Oh hell no. It’s on like Donkey Kong!” I said, rolling up my sleeves—which I didn’t actually have—and heading straight for her. I was absolutely going to punch her. I barely remembered why, but I was mad and hurt and pissed and mad—bitch was getting punched.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Jessie girl. Let’s take it down a notch. Slow your roll.”

“Adam,” I said, struggling against the hand he had on my shoulder, “are you trying to sound…I don’t even know what you are trying to sound, but it ain’t workin’ compadre.”

“Cool,” he said, to apparently mimic a Californian.

With the cab right in front of us, I relented my assault. Barely. Fighting was just too hard with Adam’s opposition, and walking too hard without his help. He was almost as good as Lump, but he didn’t talk me down while he was keeping me awake.

“I miss Lump.”

William got in the front of the cab and I got in the middle with Boobie McGee on one side and Adam on the other. I really wanted to say something to William, but didn’t want to embarrass myself anymore.

I think I actually said Boobie McGee out loud, though, because Adam tried to stifle a chuckle and I got a glare from the girl next to me.

How do ya like me now?

Lost in my own thoughts, I didn’t pay attention to the ride home, but I was the first to get dropped off.

“Alright, Jess, you need help getting’ where yer goin’?” Adam asked, dragging me out of the car.

“’M good.”

William was there, too.

“Getting out to sit next to your lady lurve?” I asked belligerently.

“Be nice, Jess,” Adam droned.

“Meh. He doesn’t deserve it. Hug, Adam. Thank you.”

I was about to step away from Adam and head toward home when William was in my way. God I was sad. Drunk and sad. He made me sad. And now he was taking that horrible girl home. So gross.

Not letting tears come to my eyes, I tilted my head back and met those beautiful blue eyes for what I hoped was the last time.

“Good-night,” he said softly, his breath dusting my eyelashes, his hand on my shoulder.

I could have easily hugged him. I was pretty sure that’s what he wanted.

“You, too. Sweet dreams,” I said sarcastically. Then I was walking away. Stumbling across the wide expanse of grass, tears surfacing, then overflowing.

“Your home or mine?”

Gladis was silhouetted in her large entryway, the door thrown wide, welcoming light and warmth a beacon.

“Yours!” I shouted back. She was a mind reader.

“Do you ever sleep?” I asked, not allowing myself to turn around when she waved at the cab.

“Looks like someone needs some aspirin.” She laughed at me.

“Yes,” I was already crying.

The disappointments of the night caught up to me and I just let it all out. Gladis had seen me through worse nightmares.

She quickly closed the door and put an arm around me. She escorted me to the parlor, sat me down on the cushy couch, and went to get me coffee. Old people always thought coffee sobered a person up. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that water was the real cure. And sleep.

When she came back I drunkenly told the whole story of the night. All the gory details. For some reason I was never embarrassed to admit all to Gladis. She never judged.

When I finished, she said simply, “This too shall pass.”

I sighed deeply. “But, Gladis, he went home with Booby McGee! I am classier than her. Well, maybe not right this minute, but I am prettier.”

“Oh, that doesn’t mean a thing. You surely got him riled up with your dancin’, and the one thing you must always remember, when it doesn’t count, mind, is that boys will be boys. Even those that are gentlemen the rest of the time will still find a way to be bad news some of the time.”

“But why not me?”

“Oh honey, he has more respect for you than that. And more respect for me! I said gentlemen would be boys when it doesn’t count. With you, it counts. You are connected to his family, so he wouldn’t dream of smearing your name.”

“I am not connected to anybody here.”

“You are connected to me, and I am connected to that boy’s family. He would have another thing comin’ if he used and discarded you like a piece of trash! I would have his skin, for one. And he knows it, too.”

I continued to cry through the pain.

That night and for the next couple months following I slept poorly. I often dreamt that I was falling or being chased. I always woke up right before I hit the ground or the person caught me.

I stayed away from anywhere William might be. Candace was repeatedly frustrated that I wouldn’t go out with them. We did a girl’s night here and there, but when I would hear that Ty was going to show up I would take off.

I just didn’t want any contact or any reminders of William until I was over the whole experience. Any at all. He was the crack dealer to the gremlins, allowing them to rip me up during the day and in my dreams at night. He was the fury to my Kung Fu master who occasionally connected well-placed blows. Bottom line, it just hurt too much.