Learning to Forgive (The Learning Series) (14 page)

After my purple above-the-elbow gloves are on, I hear a knock on the door. I quickly take one last look in the mirror, grab my red sequined wristlet that holds some money and my ID, and rush to the door. Opening it, I see the oddest pair. Cory in her princess Leia attire with smoky-eyed makeup, and a large cowboy whose smile showcases his dimples.

“Howdy, ma’am.” He tips his hat in true cowboy fashion. “You sure look awfully purdy.”

“Um… thank you?”

He winks and offers his elbow. I look at Cory who’s on the other, and she just rolls her eyes.

“Don’t worry. This is how he always is.” She pinches his butt. “Save that shit for the bedroom.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I lock up the house and take his elbow. Then we head to Jay Jay’s while my heart is pounding a million beats a minute. I block everything out but the one question I continue to ask myself.
What the fuck am I doing?

After we arrive and make our way to a table, I decide a drink might settle my nerves. I know the band will be showing up to sit with everyone soon, and I want to be cool. Not jumpy or nervous. I’m trying to act as if this is a job, thinking it will help, but I know when I see him, those thoughts will disappear. So I head over to the bar.

Trudy approaches, looking lean and beautiful in her black dress just like the original Audrey Hepburn. “Wow, Blaire. You look stunning,” she says, and I know her words are sincere. I don’t know when my hatred for this girl started depleting, but it has. Or it could be because I’m focusing on one feeling and one person right now?

“Thanks. Can I get a Jack on the rocks?” Since Jose and I are no longer friends, I’m sticking with my usual.

After she slides it my way, I sip it, but with my nerves still on overdrive, I decide to swallow it down fast. The taste and burn cause goose bumps to surface, and my face twists to show my discomfort. But who truly loves the taste of alcohol? It’s the effect I crave… need. Especially tonight. Then I order a second while I wait for the tranquility I felt the other night to hit.

I sit for several minutes, watching the crowd, while I feel my body finally start to loosen up. Then I see Ryan come in first followed by the bassist, and then Lyric walks in. But I can’t move from my seat, and it’s not from my vanishing nerves either. It’s from the brunette walking in with him. She’s tanned, toned, and fucking gorgeous.

I grab my drink and shake the ice, wishing it wasn’t blocking the golden liquid. It clinks on the side, and that’s all I hear. The blood rushing in my brain has everything else fading, the crowd, the music from the DJ, everything. I concentrate on the clinking, and breathing in and out, and begin my counting ritual. I learned a method while I laid in bed scared or in pain.
Breathe in… breathe out.

Closing my eyes, I continue until the commotion surrounding me comes back, and I can hear more than my own blood pumping. Then I open my eyes and see the two kissing while she straddles his lap in her referee outfit. Watching the two and thinking of our kiss has me feeling stupid and naïve. Filled with shame. My endless anger returns just as my happiness from earlier falls on the floor for the world to stomp on.

I feel the walls crowding in, as the voices get louder and louder. No amount of alcohol is going to erase the image of the one person I was starting to trust kissing another. Instead of walking out, I decide not to show him how much I’m affected. I order another whiskey straight so no ice blocks me from the feeling I crave. Now the burn isn’t so bad. My throat is numb, and I can feel my disposition slowly become the same. Emotionless… dead. I try to concentrate on the karaoke singers as they screech in the mike. However, my mind still sees
him
.

“Hey, you. I didn’t think I’d see you again. You disappeared the other night.”

I look up from my empty glass and see my dance partner from a few nights ago. He’s decent, with his crooked nose and dark hair cut short to the scalp. He has a faint scar above his right eye. He smiles slyly, showcasing his freakishly white teeth. But it’s a nice smile, and he seemed enjoyable enough the other night. A little cocky, but if I was making money like him, then I’d be cocky too, I guess.

He works for a pharmaceutical company and travels to introduce his products to doctors everywhere. It’s funny how I don’t remember much about that night, like his name, but I do remember his work status. But I was pretty drunk.

I return his smile, happy the desired effects from the alcohol are finally kicking in. I’m feeling warm, loose, and ready for anything. “I’m sorry, but what was your name again?” I lick my lips seductively and receive his full attention as his eyes follow the movement.

“Alex. But my friends call me Bishop.” He taps the empty glass with his finger. I automatically notice no ring, but a very elegant diamond Gucci watch adorns his wrist. “Need another?”

“Sure.”

We keep light conversation for the next thirty minutes until I hear someone announce it’s time for Lyrical Obsessions to take the stage. I spin the bar stool around as Alex throws his arm around me, and we snuggle up like a cute couple or some shit. As much as I want to push him away, I don’t. I’ll just drink when the familiar feelings take hold. My free hand automatically starts to fist and leave nail imprints in my palm until my drink arrives. I quickly swallow it down then watch the band strut on stage like they own the fucking place. Or at least the lead singer does.
“Fucker!”
I say under my breath.

“How are you motherfuckers doin’ tonight?” Lyric speaks into the microphone, and his voice bounces off the walls. I feel Alex jump from beside me, and when I look his way, his eyes are now on Lyric. I guess he fucked him over, too because he looks pissed. Before I can ask, the crowd goes insane as girls and guys scream and whistle, so I ignore it and turn my attention back to the stage. I hear a few girls scream, “Fuck me, Lyric,” but he just laughs and picks the chords of his guitar. With the deepness of his voice bouncing from the speakers, I feel my heart rate pick up while my numbness starts to disappear, and my anger begins to smolder.

“I need to make a phone call,” Alex says before disappearing into the crowd.

I could care less if he stays gone, but since he is giving me free drinks, I won’t argue if he comes back. I decide to look down and block the sound of Lyric’s voice out as much as possible, but it does nothing for my hurt. I don’t know why I feel so fucking betrayed by that sonofabitch, but I do. And I feel stupid for it. For once, I was hopeful to feel normal… to be a girl. But now I know I’ll never be like all these other females in here. At least not sober, anyway.

The band starts Evans Blue
Cold,
and I start to feel restless as Lyric’s voice reaches my ears and causes my body to awaken. Warmth spreads and longing mixes in, and when his words about his hand sliding on my neck like he did last night, a detailed picture of us in his bed invades my mind. I feel restless and have to cross my legs and squeeze my thighs together before I do something stupid like go to the front of that stage and act like a groupie.

My dress automatically opens at the thigh from the side slit. A large hand slides across my pale skin, and I look up to see Alex. He must see the lust in my eyes, because he leans in and kisses me while his fingers inch closer to my panties. His kiss isn’t like the one I want. Instead, it’s rough and demanding. It’s violent and full of dominance. His lips are chapped, and his breath is stale, but with Lyric’s raw singing in my ears, I endure it.

When Lyric’s voice stops, I pull away from Alex, unable to stomach anymore. No matter how much I want to look at the stage, I keep my eyes trained on the guy who just stuck his tongue down my throat. But I know, without a doubt, Lyric sees me. Every inch of my skin burns from those deceiving eyes of his. I smile, feeling victory, and hope he feels the way I did when I saw him kissing that girl. I hope he knows that I think he’s a fucking asshole, and he can go back to whatever hell he came from. However, he once again starts to sing and finishes the song.

Grabbing my clutch, I lean in and tell Alex I need to go to the restroom. Cory is in a heated argument with her cowboy as I pass her table. She gives me an apologetic smile that I don’t return. She didn’t do anything to me, but I don’t feel like adding someone to my life, anymore. Friendships and relationships of any kind make me feel too many things, and I don’t like it. Especially when I get fucked over.

As I wash up, I hear the band start a different song and sigh. Maybe deep down, I wanted Lyric to follow me and rescue me again, but I’m stupid for thinking he would. So instead, I decide not to let one kiss change me to a senseless girl who depends on one guy’s attention to feel happy. Plenty of guys show me attention, and one with money is out there right now waiting for me. So I’m going to take my life back and live by my own terms.

I walk back out to the bar and see Alex. He stands straight and smiles until I reach his side. “So handsome, you wanna get out of here?” I let my hand slide up his broad chest and feel his heart beat pounding hard and fast.

We pay our tab and make our way to the exit, but before we reach it, the music stops again. With my eyes on the exit, I ignore the interruption and the all-consuming stare on my back as we make our way to a new black Corvette that is my chariot for the night to my newest fuck up.

After Alex rolls over, I run to the bathroom to cry. Luckily, I turn on the shower before retching in the toilet to mask the sound. The tears come harder every time my stomach heaves whiskey. I was fine earlier. I was okay with fucking some random guy when the liquor was flowing through my blood. Now I’m feeling again, and it’s not a good feeling.

After I finish, I sit naked on the cold tile floor and sob for what I just did. Maybe Benji didn’t see me.
Oh God! Benji. The anniversary of his death, and I do this? Fuck some guy because he bought me drinks
? My stomach rolls again with the thought, and I once again throw myself over the commode to empty my stomach. Nothing but green bile comes up because I have nothing else to give. I continue to question my stupid thought process for sleeping with someone. Why did I think I’d feel some semblance of
normal
from the action? Instead, I still feel like the lowest person. Is it customary to feel guilt over a one-night stand? Or is it just my twisted and fucked-up mind?

After I turn off the water and rinse my mouth out, I open the door to see a sleeping Alex. What happened to the suave guy who made my toes curl from earlier?
Oh yeah! He was never here.
He was rough and uncaring. But thankfully, quick. Now it’s time for me to leave, so I don’t have to face him again. I grab my phone and call a cab before heading down to the lobby to wait. I can’t stand to look at my mistake any longer.