Beautiful Disaster 02 Walking Disaster (27 page)

I was too angry to smile back.

“What?” she asked, taken aback.

“Why did you let him buy your drink?”

America let go of Shepley. “We didn’t, Travis. I told them not to.”

I took the bottle from Abby’s hand. “Then what’s this?”

“Are you serious?” she asked.

“Yes, I’m fucking serious,” I said, tossing the beer in the trash can by the bar. “I’ve told you a hundred times . . . you can’t take drinks from random guys.
What if he put something in it?”

America held up her glass. “The drinks were never out of our sight, Trav. You’re overreacting.”

“I’m not talking to you,” I said, glaring at Abby.

Her eyes flashed, mirroring my anger. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

“Travis,” Shepley warned, “let it go.”

“I don’t like you letting other guys buy you drinks,” I said.

Abby raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to pick a fight?”

“Would it bother you to walk up to the bar and see me sharing a drink with some chick?”

“Okay. You’re oblivious to all women, now. I get it. I should be making the same effort.”

“It would be nice,” I said, my teeth clenched.

“You’re going to have to tone down the jealous-boyfriend thing, Travis. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I walk up here, and some guy is buying you a drink!”

“Don’t yell at her!” America said.

Shepley put his hand on Travis’s shoulder. “We’ve all had a lot to drink. Let’s just get out of here.”

Abby’s anger turned up a notch. “I have to tell Finch we’re leaving,” she grumbled, shouldering past me to the dance floor.

I took her by the wrist. “I’ll go with you.”

She twisted from my grip. “I am fully capable of walking a few feet by myself, Travis. What is
wrong
with you?”

Abby pushed her way out to Finch, who was flinging his arms around and jumping around in the middle of the wooden floor. Sweat was pouring down his forehead and from his temples. At first he
smiled, but when she yelled her goodbyes, he rolled his eyes.

Abby had mouthed my name. She had blamed it on me, which only made me more mad. Of course I would get angry if she did something that could get her hurt. She didn’t seem to mind so much
when I was bashing Chris Jenks’s head in, but when I got pissed about her taking drinks from strangers, she had the audacity to get mad.

Just as my anger boiled to rage, some asshole in a pirate costume grabbed Abby and pressed himself against her. The room blurred, and before I knew it, my fist was in his face. The pirate fell
to the floor, but when Abby went with him, I snapped back to reality.

Her palms flat on the dance floor, she looked stunned. I was frozen in shock, watching her, in slow motion, turn her hand over to see that it was covered in bright red blood gushing from the
pirate’s nose.

I scrambled to pick her up. “Oh shit! Are you all right, Pidge?”

When Abby got to her feet, she yanked her arm from my grip. “Are you
insane
?”

America grabbed Abby’s wrist and pulled her through the crowd, only letting go when we were outside. I had to walk double-time to keep up.

In the parking lot, Shepley unlocked the Charger and Abby slid into her seat.

I tried pleading with her. She was beyond pissed. “I’m sorry, Pigeon, I didn’t know he had a hold of you.”

“Your fist was two inches from my face!” she said, catching the oil-stained towel Shepley had thrown at her. She wiped the blood from her hand, wringing the cloth around each finger,
clearly revolted.

I winced. “I wouldn’t have swung if I thought I could have hit you. You know that right?”

“Shut up, Travis. Just shut up,” she said, staring at the back of Shepley’s head.

“Pidge . . .”

Shepley hit his steering wheel with the heel of his hand. “Shut up, Travis! You said you’re sorry, now shut the fuck up!”

I couldn’t say anything back. Shepley was right: I had FUBARed the entire night, and suddenly Abby kicking me to the curb became a frightening possibility.

When we reached the apartment, America kissed her boyfriend good night. “I’ll see you tomorrow, baby.”

Shepley nodded in resignation and kissed her. “Love you.”

I knew they were leaving because of me. Otherwise, the girls would be staying the night at the apartment like they did every weekend.

Abby walked past me to America’s Honda without saying a word.

I jogged to her side, trying an awkward smile in an attempt to defuse the situation. “C’mon. Don’t leave mad.”

“Oh, I’m not leaving mad. I’m furious.”

“She needs some time to cool off, Travis,” America warned, unlocking her door.

When the passenger side lock popped, I panicked, holding my hand against the door. “Don’t leave, Pigeon. I was out of line. I’m
sorry
.”

Abby held up her hand, showing the remnants of dried blood on her palm. “Call me when you grow up.”

I leaned against the door with my hip. “You can’t leave.”

Abby raised an eyebrow, and Shepley jogged around the car beside us. “Travis, you’re drunk. You’re about to make a huge mistake. Just let her go home, cool off . . . you can
both talk tomorrow when you’re sober.”

“She can’t leave,” I said, desperately staring into Abby’s eyes.

“It’s not going to work, Travis,” she said, tugging on the door. “Move!”

“What do you mean it’s not gonna work?” I asked, grabbing her arm. The fear of Abby saying the words, ending it right there made me react without thinking.

“I mean the sad face. I’m not falling for it,” she said, pulling away.

A short-lived relief came over me. She wasn’t going to end it. At least, not yet.

“Abby,” Shepley said. “This is the moment I was talking about. Maybe you should—”

“Stay out of it, Shep,” America snapped, starting the car.

“I’m gonna fuck up. I’m gonna fuck up a lot, Pidge, but you have to forgive me.”

“I’m going to have a huge bruise on my ass in the morning! You hit that guy because you were pissed at
me
! What should that tell me? Because red flags are going up
all
over the place right now!”

“I’ve never hit a girl in my life,” I said, surprised she would ever think I could ever lay a hand on her—or any other woman for that matter.

“And I’m not about to be the first one!” she said, tugging on the door. “Move, damn it!”

I nodded, taking a step back. The last thing I wanted was for her to leave, but it was better than her getting so pissed off that she ended up telling me to fuck off.

America put the car in reverse, and I watched Abby through the window.

“You’re going to call me tomorrow, right?” I asked, touching the windshield.

“Just go, Mare,” she said, looking straight ahead.

When the brake lights were no longer visible, I retreated into the apartment.

“Travis,” Shepley warned. “No messes, bro. I mean it.”

I nodded, trudging to my room in defeat. It seemed that just when I was getting a handle on things, my fucking temper would rear its ugly head. I had to get it under control, or I was going to
lose the best thing that ever happened to me.

To pass the time, I cooked some pork chops and mashed potatoes, but just rolled it all around on my plate, unable to eat. Laundry helped to knock out an hour, and then I decided to give Toto a
bath. We played for a while, but then even he gave up and curled up on the bed. Staring at the ceiling, obsessing about how stupid I’d been, wasn’t appealing, so I decided to pull all
the dishes out of the cabinet and wash them by hand.

Longest night of my life.

The clouds began to turn colors, signaling the sun. I grabbed the bike keys and went for a drive, ending up in front of Morgan Hall.

Harmony Handler was just leaving for a jog. She watched me for a moment, keeping her hand on the door.

“Hey, Travis,” she said with her typical small smile. It quickly faded. “Wow. Are you sick or something? Do you need me to take you somewhere?” I must have looked like
hell. Harmony had always been a sweetheart. Her brother was a Sig Tau, so I didn’t know her all that well. Little sisters were off-limits.

“Hey, Harmony,” I said, trying a smile. “I wanted to surprise Abby with breakfast. Think you could let me in?”

“Uh,” she trailed off, looking back through the glass door. “Nancy might freak. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Nancy was Morgan Hall’s dorm mom. I’d heard of her, but never seen her, and doubted she would even notice. The word around campus was that she drank more than the residents and was
seldom seen outside of her room.

“Just a long night. C’mon.” I smiled. “You know she won’t care.”

“Okay, but it wasn’t me.”

I held my hand to my heart. “I promise.”

I made my way upstairs, knocking softly on Abby’s door.

The knob turned quickly, but the door opened slowly, gradually revealing Abby and America across the room. Kara’s hand slipped from the doorknob back under the covers of her bed.

“Can I come in?”

Abby sat up quickly. “Are you okay?”

I walked in and fell to my knees before her. “I’m so sorry, Abby. I’m sorry,” I said, wrapping my arms around her middle and burying my head in her lap.

Abby cradled my head in her arms.

“I’m uh . . . ,” America stuttered, “I’m gonna go.”

Abby’s roommate Kara stomped around the room, getting her shower supplies. “I’m always very clean when you’re around, Abby,” she said, slamming the door behind
her.

I looked up at Abby. “I know I get crazy when it comes to you, but God knows I’m tryin’, Pidge. I don’t wanna screw this up.”

“Then don’t,” she said simply.

“This is hard for me, ya know. I feel like any second you’re going to figure out what a piece of shit I am and leave me. When you were dancing last night, I saw a dozen different
guys watching you. You go to the bar, and I see you thank that guy for your drink. Then that douche bag on the dance floor grabs you.”

“You don’t see me throwing punches every time a girl talks to you. I can’t stay locked up in the apartment all the time. You’re going to have to get a handle on your
temper.”

“I will,” I said, nodding. “I’ve never wanted a girlfriend before, Pigeon. I’m not used to feeling this way about someone . . . about
anyone
. If
you’ll be patient with me, I swear I’ll get it figured out.”

“Let’s get something straight; you’re not a piece of shit, you’re amazing. It doesn’t matter who buys me drinks or who asks me to dance or who flirts with me.
I’m going home with you. You’ve asked me to trust you, and you don’t seem to trust me.”

I frowned. “That’s not true.”

“If you think I’m going to leave you for the next guy that comes along, then you don’t have much faith in me.”

I tightened my grip. “I’m not good enough for you, Pidge. That doesn’t mean I don’t trust you, I’m just bracing for the inevitable.”

“Don’t say that. When we’re alone, you’re perfect. We’re perfect. But then you let everyone else ruin it. I don’t expect a 180, but you have to pick your
battles. You can’t come out swinging every time someone looks at me.”

I nodded, knowing she was right. “I’ll do anything you want. Just . . . tell me you love me.” I was fully aware of how ridiculous I sounded, but it just didn’t matter
anymore.

“You know I do.”

“I need to hear you say it.”

“I love you,” she said. She touched her lips to mine, and then pulled a few inches away. “Now quit being such a baby.”

Once she kissed me, my heart slowed, and every muscle in my body relaxed. How much I needed her terrified me. I couldn’t imagine love was like this for everyone, or men would be walking
around like lunatics the second they were old enough to notice girls.

Maybe it was just me. Maybe it was just me and her. Maybe together we were this volatile entity that would either implode or meld together. Either way, it seemed the moment I met her, my life
had been turned upside down. And I didn’t want it any other way.

H
ALF EXCITED, HALF NERVOUS AS HELL, I WALKED INTO
my father’s home, my fingers intertwined with Abby’s. Smoke
from my father’s cigar and my brothers’ cigarettes drifted from the game room, mixing with the faint, musky smell of carpet older than I was.

Even though Abby was initially pissed that she didn’t have much notice before meeting my family, she looked more at ease than I felt. Bringing home a girlfriend was not a habit of the
Maddox men, and any prediction of their reaction was unreliable at best.

Trenton came into view first. “Holy Christ! It’s the asshat!”

Any hope of my brothers even pretending not to be anything but feral was a waste of time. I loved them anyway, and knowing Abby, she would, too.

“Hey, hey . . . watch the language around the young lady,” Dad said, nodding to Abby.

“Pidge, this is my dad, Jim Maddox. Dad, this is Pigeon.”

“Pigeon?” Jim asked, an amused expression on his face.

“Abby,” she said, shaking his hand.

I pointed to my brothers, all of them nodding when I said their name. “Trenton, Taylor, Tyler, and Thomas.”

Abby seemed a bit overwhelmed. I couldn’t blame her; I’d never really talked about my family, and five boys would be mind-boggling to anybody. In fact, five Maddoxes were downright
frightening to most.

Growing up, the neighborhood kids learned early not to mess with one of us, and only once did someone make the mistake of taking on all of us. We were broken, but came together as a solid
fortress if necessary. That was clear even to those we didn’t mean to intimidate.

“Does Abby have a last name?” Dad asked.

“Abernathy,” she said, nodding politely.

“It’s nice to meet you, Abby,” Thomas said with a smile. Abby wouldn’t have noticed, but Thomas’s expression was a front for what he was really doing: analyzing her
every word and movement. Thomas was always on the lookout for someone that could potentially rock our already rickety boat. Waves weren’t welcome, and Thomas had always made it his job to
calm potential storms.