Jailbird, p.36
Jailbird, page 36
* * *
“Make me one too!” Dylan shouted from the front room, following it with a too-wet sounding burb.
* * *
Swallowing back a laugh, I strolled into the kitchen, my head clearing as I snatched a plastic pod from the counter and threw it into the coffeemaker, only for it to scream at me to refill the tank. I groaned. Filling the tank, I tried again at making coffee, criticizing Dylan’s choice to go with a Keurig over a good old-fashioned coffeepot. After a not so graceful experience, I finally emerged from the kitchen with two cups of steaming, girly flavored coffee.
* * *
Setting the hotter of the two cups in front of Dylan, who was scowling at Levi, I settled back down into the sagging couch and began chugging mine. Spitting flames as it coated my tongue in fuzz.
* * *
Levi was busy gathering up the crumbled bills from the center of the table as Dylan watched me with wide eyes. “You can slow down. I ain’t kickin’ you out.”
* * *
Gulping down the last sip, almost like sludge from the escaped grounds, I cringed. “You know she doesn’t like it when I drive drunk.”
* * *
“Fuck her!” Dylan barked, practically knocking his coffee over with a wide arm gesture. “Ya’ll broke up. She’s lucky she’s still living at your place.” I opened my mouth to retort, but he was already mid-swing on the drunken tangent. “Pinky can suck my fucking cock. YOU, my man, are a grown ass person. If you wanna get plastered and drive, drive my dude. What is she gonna do? Withhold the sex ya’ll ain’t havin’?”
* * *
I lifted my cup, lazily signally that I one, was not listening, and two, needed more. But he wasn’t done, and I was already exhausted. “Kyle, you are a damn fool for letting her keep that house. You worked hard as fuck for that bitch. You should sell it for some extra cash. HELL! I don’t even know why you hooked up with her, anyway. You can take the prissy bitch out of the popular crowd, but you can’t take the prissy bitch out of the popular girl. I doubt she can even fuck right.”
* * *
My eye twitched as my once lazy glance grew violent, my hand crushing down onto the black coffee mug for dear life.
* * *
“Ignore his drunk ass.” Levi warned, eyes widening at me as he stood from the couch. Ready to jump in and stop the fight.
* * *
We had done this go-around one too many times already. Nadia and I had only been broken up for a week. Far too short a time to have dealt with Dylan’s rage over it this many times. He meant well; I knew it. But he didn’t know her like I did. He didn’t see the shame in her eyes, the way she withdrew. We didn’t break up—— we just stopped being romantic. She was and always would be special to me. One of the best friends I’ve ever had. I wasn’t in the mood to fight that point again.
* * *
Not that it would matter in a week. I would be long gone, and everything would change.
* * *
“I say we go over there now and pack up her shit. Just throw that shit on the lawn.” Dylan chuckled, sucking down his coffee merrily. I snapped.
* * *
Throwing the mug down onto the coffee table, the shattering of glass shredded through the living room. Shards of sticky, unclean glass splintered around us, while the mug laid on the floor without a single chip. Dylan shot up, eyes wide as they flickered between the coffee table and I. In my defense, it was already broken.
* * *
“Are you fucking serious?!”
* * *
“Are you?” I challenged. From the corner of my eye, I caught Levi slipping on his jacket and snatching up my keys. Clearing my throat, I grabbed my leather jacket from the couch and shrugged it on. “You don’t fucking know her.”
* * *
Before I could say anything else, Levi had waved for me to leave, dropping a couple twenties onto the broken bits of coffee table and muttering an apology to Dylan. He was pissed, but all too used to the blow-ups by now. For the last week, Dylan had been on the warpath to defend me, and Levi on cleanup crew. It wasn’t fair to him. By Monday, it won’t matter. I reminded myself repeatedly. It won’t matter.
* * *
Climbing into the driver’s side of my Camaro, Levi pushed this sandy blonde hair off of his forehead and brought her to life. “She can’t be mad at you if I drive.” He scoffed as he brought the beast down the road.
* * *
The buzz was already wearing off, leaving me with the gut wrenching reminder. I had to go back home one more night. I would have to face her once more night. I would have to walk in there and pretend like everything is right as rain, saving face. By Monday it won’t matter.
* * *
“Look, I’ve had too much to drink, so I have shit to say.” Levi grumbled, his eyes peeled on the road. He wasn’t one to share emotions, but when he did, he’d be sure you never saw his eyes. “Nadia will never love you like you love her. She might in her own way. Hell, I don't know, women are fucking weird. But you need to let go. Tonight, you better say your goodbyes to her, cuz’ if I hear her name come out of your mouth one fucking time once we make it to Virginia, I’ll shoot you.” Gripping the steering wheel tighter, he locked his jaw. “I only say this cuz’ I care. Let her go.”
Levi had already walked a block away, by the time I pushed the front door open. Nadia’s friends were already passed out on the couch in uncomfortable looking positions. The house was dim, the light of the TV the only thing lighting up the living room. Shucking off my boots and jacket, I left them in a pile by the door.
* * *
My suitcases, already packed, stood in a row by the TV. By Monday, it won’t matter. Padding through the living room, careful not to wake the girls, I made my way to the kitchen. Settled at the table with a stack of papers before her, Nadia twiddled her pencil back and forth in her fingers. She hadn’t even noticed that I came in. She was so focused on her LSAT lately; it was the only thing that could hold her attention.
* * *
Leaning against the doorway, I pushed my hair back. “You look tired.”
* * *
“You smell drunk.” Her voice dripped disdain. But I knew better. It was concern. It always was. She might in her own way.
* * *
I shook the thought from my head. “Levi drove.”
* * *
Delicately setting the pencil next to the stack of papers, she pivoted on her seat. Her eyes bloodshot and droopy as she peered up at me. Her gentle smile ripping the last shreds of my heart right out of my chest. “You ok?” I knew she could see right through me, she always could. “Anything I can do?”
* * *
I shook my head. “Not really.”
* * *
“You sure?”
* * *
“Not really.”
* * *
There was no stopping my feet as they carried me deeper into the kitchen, bringing me right in front of her. Tonight, you better say your goodbyes to her. She lifted herself from the chair slowly, watching me with weary eyes. Her pink tipped hair piled up on top of her head, falling out, letting soft waves frame her face. Her sweet lips parted as she waited for me to say something. Just as radiant as she was the first time I saw her like this. A big t-shirt engulfing her, and her face bare and gentle. A faint splattering of freckles dusting her nose.
* * *
“Kyle?” she finally muttered. The tension that rippled between us was so dense a fork could cut it. Her emerald eyes flickered under the yellow light of the ceiling lamp. “What can I do?”
* * *
Pulling in a deep breath, I grabbed the hem of my white t-shirt and pulled it over my head, letting it fall to the floor. Her eyes flashed over my chest for a moment before sealing themselves to the floor. Grabbing her chin, I brought her eyes back up to mine. Then with the other hand, I grabbed the hot pink scrunchy and tugged it from her hair, letting the thick waves tumble down around her. The way I liked her best. When she was raw and unapologetically natural.
* * *
“Ask me to stay.”
* * *
She swallowed hard, her eyes glimmering as tears collected on her lashes. “I can’t. You have a future to go live.” Nadia will never love you like you love her. “I can’t ask you to stay. To give that up. Not after I—”
* * *
“Ask me to stay.” I said again, almost breathless, as my chest caved in. Her every breath pulling me closer as though I was suffocating. She remained silent. Too silent. Lowering my head, I nodded. I knew she wouldn’t. “Then say goodbye to me—” I wet my lower lip, watching as her gaze followed. “Make it count.”
* * *
In an instant, she threw herself into me, her eyes wet with tears. Her arms snaked around my neck as her lips pressed to mine, and all I could do was pull her in closer. By Monday, it wouldn’t matter. But tonight, I’d say goodbye. I’d say her name until my voice was hoarse. By Monday. I won’t remember it.
About the Author
Harper B Conway is an emerging romance Author. Conway has been writing for the past 15 years and lives a quiet life in the midwest with her husband, two kids, two dogs, and her cat.
Harper B. Conway, Jailbird
