Broken and Screwed 2
Page 25
She didn’t have to say it twice.
Holding hands, we took off down the block. We kept going, panting and giggling. We went down two more streets before we slowed outside of a grocery store.
Panting, Hannah swiped her hair from her face and swept it back into a ponytail. As she did, she kept shaking her head at me and laughing. “That was awesome, Alex. I didn’t know you had it in you.”
I shrugged, unable to hold back my own grin. It had felt good. My chest swelled. I wanted to call Angie and Marissa. They would’ve laughed their asses off, but then I remembered reality. Angie and Marissa were no longer my friends. And Hannah wasn’t really a friend either.
The grin fell from my face.
The situation was no longer so funny.
Hannah’s grin faded too. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Who were those two?”
“Oh.” All humor was gone. Her lips pressed together and her shoulders stiffened. “They’re no one.”
I frowned. “Are you kidding? I punched her for you. Who were there?”
“No, I meant they aren’t even worth talking about. Trust me. It’s all stupid drama.”
I remembered some of the shouts and asked, “She’s your roommate?”
Hannah visibly cringed. Her shoulders jerked up, her jaw clenched, and she wrapped her arms around herself. She sat on a bench outside the store. I sat beside her. When she didn’t say anything, I asked the next theory that was mulling in my head. “And he was your boyfriend?”
Her eyes closed. Her head hung down and her shoulders drooped beside me. She was withering before my eyes. In a broken voice, she whispered, “Yeah.”
A light bulb went off for me.
Hannah was broken, just like me.
My hand found hers and I squeezed it, patting it at the same time. “Trust me. I understand.”
“Your boyfriend cheated on you for a whole year, broke up with you because of the long distance relationship, and ended up transferring to Grant West so he could date your roommate/best friend?”
“Well,” I let go of her hand. “No.” I patted her shoulder instead.
“Oh. Because that’s what happened to me. I dated Dylan forever. He went to Cal U, I went to Grant West, and you know the rest.” She sounded defeated. “They got together over the summer after he broke up with me. Angelique didn’t tell me until the day we moved in together. She said she had ‘some news to tell me’ and Dylan strolled in. Fuck me. I thought he had come to beg forgiveness and then they started kissing.”
Bitch.
Her shoulders filled with anger again and she stiffened beside me. “Thanks for punching her. I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”
“Heh.” I waved my hand in a dismissing motion. “Not a problem.”
She grinned at me. “We’re a mess. Sorry about ruining your first drunk moment.”
“I’ve been drunk before.”
“You have?”
I nodded. “But that was the first time I’ve hit someone. It was fulfilling.”
“Oh.” She began to laugh, her shoulders shaking. “Beth’s right. You’re cool. I’m glad my sister hates you.”
“Me too.”
We began laughing together then, unable to hold in the hysterics of the evening. When an elderly couple walked past into the store, a fresh wave came over us again. The old guy seemed intrigued while his wife grabbed his cane and hurried him inside. I wasn’t sure how long we sat there. It was a while before Hannah sighed, hugging herself. She ran a hand over her hair, trying to calm the mess and shuddered. “We should go back.”
“Sure.”
We didn’t move.
Hannah asked, “Do you know how to go back?”
“No idea.”
“Oh. Okay.”
We remained sitting. The elderly couple came out, followed by a grocery clerk with their purchases. When he wheeled his cart back in, his gaze lingered on us, mostly on Hannah and her hair, before he went back inside.
She glanced over. “I have a feeling if we don’t leave they’re going to call the cops on us.”
“You’re right. Probably think we’re drug dealers—” I started.
She finished, with a wicked grin, “—or prostitutes!”
I nodded and stuck my lip so I’d look full of knowledge. “You’re right. I’d go with the hookers. They think we’re hookers.”
She eyed my outfit before she leaned over, took hold of my sleeves, and ripped them off.
My mouth fell open. “That was my favorite shirt.”
“It was?”
Doubling over with more laughter, I shook my head. “No. I think I’m still drunk.”
“Me too.” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “But you look more like a hooker. Maybe we can get a ride.”
“Or call for a ride.” I pointed at her pockets. “Call Beth.”
“Oh yeah!” More giggles spilled from her as she fumbled with the buttons, but by the end of the conversation Beth was on her way for us.
We didn’t have to wait long. She pulled into the parking lot in the red Camaro from before. Hannah bounced into the front seat, exclaiming, “You got my car. How’d you do that?”
Beth seemed less than happy to see us. She skimmed a hard look over both of us as I got into the back seat, then she turned out of the parking lot. “I got a ride to Mitch’s. You left your stuff there so I found your keys. They were going to call the cops on you, but then you ran.”
Hannah scrunched her face up. “Were they still there?”
“Angelique and Dylan?”
Her lips pressed even tighter together.
Beth gentled her tone, “No and Mitch said they’ve been banned.”
“Oh Mitchy.” Hannah slumped down in her chair, a sloppy grin on her face. “He wants my sister so bad, doesn’t he?”
“He asked me to tell Tiffany that he was looking out for you.”
Hannah snorted and pumped her hand in the air. Her middle finger was extended to the ceiling. “Fuck you, Mitch Carinns. He ain’t getting anywhere near Tiffany. He didn’t do crap for me, told me to take it outside. That was all. And they were going to call the cops? He’s pathetic.” She jerked upright. “We should trash his bar tonight.”
Beth shrugged. “If you want.”
Holding hands, we took off down the block. We kept going, panting and giggling. We went down two more streets before we slowed outside of a grocery store.
Panting, Hannah swiped her hair from her face and swept it back into a ponytail. As she did, she kept shaking her head at me and laughing. “That was awesome, Alex. I didn’t know you had it in you.”
I shrugged, unable to hold back my own grin. It had felt good. My chest swelled. I wanted to call Angie and Marissa. They would’ve laughed their asses off, but then I remembered reality. Angie and Marissa were no longer my friends. And Hannah wasn’t really a friend either.
The grin fell from my face.
The situation was no longer so funny.
Hannah’s grin faded too. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Who were those two?”
“Oh.” All humor was gone. Her lips pressed together and her shoulders stiffened. “They’re no one.”
I frowned. “Are you kidding? I punched her for you. Who were there?”
“No, I meant they aren’t even worth talking about. Trust me. It’s all stupid drama.”
I remembered some of the shouts and asked, “She’s your roommate?”
Hannah visibly cringed. Her shoulders jerked up, her jaw clenched, and she wrapped her arms around herself. She sat on a bench outside the store. I sat beside her. When she didn’t say anything, I asked the next theory that was mulling in my head. “And he was your boyfriend?”
Her eyes closed. Her head hung down and her shoulders drooped beside me. She was withering before my eyes. In a broken voice, she whispered, “Yeah.”
A light bulb went off for me.
Hannah was broken, just like me.
My hand found hers and I squeezed it, patting it at the same time. “Trust me. I understand.”
“Your boyfriend cheated on you for a whole year, broke up with you because of the long distance relationship, and ended up transferring to Grant West so he could date your roommate/best friend?”
“Well,” I let go of her hand. “No.” I patted her shoulder instead.
“Oh. Because that’s what happened to me. I dated Dylan forever. He went to Cal U, I went to Grant West, and you know the rest.” She sounded defeated. “They got together over the summer after he broke up with me. Angelique didn’t tell me until the day we moved in together. She said she had ‘some news to tell me’ and Dylan strolled in. Fuck me. I thought he had come to beg forgiveness and then they started kissing.”
Bitch.
Her shoulders filled with anger again and she stiffened beside me. “Thanks for punching her. I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”
“Heh.” I waved my hand in a dismissing motion. “Not a problem.”
She grinned at me. “We’re a mess. Sorry about ruining your first drunk moment.”
“I’ve been drunk before.”
“You have?”
I nodded. “But that was the first time I’ve hit someone. It was fulfilling.”
“Oh.” She began to laugh, her shoulders shaking. “Beth’s right. You’re cool. I’m glad my sister hates you.”
“Me too.”
We began laughing together then, unable to hold in the hysterics of the evening. When an elderly couple walked past into the store, a fresh wave came over us again. The old guy seemed intrigued while his wife grabbed his cane and hurried him inside. I wasn’t sure how long we sat there. It was a while before Hannah sighed, hugging herself. She ran a hand over her hair, trying to calm the mess and shuddered. “We should go back.”
“Sure.”
We didn’t move.
Hannah asked, “Do you know how to go back?”
“No idea.”
“Oh. Okay.”
We remained sitting. The elderly couple came out, followed by a grocery clerk with their purchases. When he wheeled his cart back in, his gaze lingered on us, mostly on Hannah and her hair, before he went back inside.
She glanced over. “I have a feeling if we don’t leave they’re going to call the cops on us.”
“You’re right. Probably think we’re drug dealers—” I started.
She finished, with a wicked grin, “—or prostitutes!”
I nodded and stuck my lip so I’d look full of knowledge. “You’re right. I’d go with the hookers. They think we’re hookers.”
She eyed my outfit before she leaned over, took hold of my sleeves, and ripped them off.
My mouth fell open. “That was my favorite shirt.”
“It was?”
Doubling over with more laughter, I shook my head. “No. I think I’m still drunk.”
“Me too.” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “But you look more like a hooker. Maybe we can get a ride.”
“Or call for a ride.” I pointed at her pockets. “Call Beth.”
“Oh yeah!” More giggles spilled from her as she fumbled with the buttons, but by the end of the conversation Beth was on her way for us.
We didn’t have to wait long. She pulled into the parking lot in the red Camaro from before. Hannah bounced into the front seat, exclaiming, “You got my car. How’d you do that?”
Beth seemed less than happy to see us. She skimmed a hard look over both of us as I got into the back seat, then she turned out of the parking lot. “I got a ride to Mitch’s. You left your stuff there so I found your keys. They were going to call the cops on you, but then you ran.”
Hannah scrunched her face up. “Were they still there?”
“Angelique and Dylan?”
Her lips pressed even tighter together.
Beth gentled her tone, “No and Mitch said they’ve been banned.”
“Oh Mitchy.” Hannah slumped down in her chair, a sloppy grin on her face. “He wants my sister so bad, doesn’t he?”
“He asked me to tell Tiffany that he was looking out for you.”
Hannah snorted and pumped her hand in the air. Her middle finger was extended to the ceiling. “Fuck you, Mitch Carinns. He ain’t getting anywhere near Tiffany. He didn’t do crap for me, told me to take it outside. That was all. And they were going to call the cops? He’s pathetic.” She jerked upright. “We should trash his bar tonight.”
Beth shrugged. “If you want.”
