We got to the party along with everyone else, right on time. Right on time
being when everyone had just enough to drink to loosen up, but not enough
to get stupid yet. It was perfect. Scott was out of the house and looked
as if he might even have some fun and Rachel and I were getting wide-eyed
stares from around the room. Rachel and I walked to our normal corner of
the building and I turned to yell at Scott to tell him how to find us, but
he had wandered off to the bar already. From a distance, I noticed he
still looked hot.
I shrugged it off and turned to Rachel and our party began. We hit the floor and the party came alive. The crowd was in full costume. From wizards, to garbage men, to bunny rabbits. Everyone was moving and grooving, the beat resounding in the movements.
After a few songs I made my way to the bar and ordered a drink, noticing out of the corner of my eye Scott talking to some blonde girl. She was all done up in this 1920's flapper costume. Except she had managed to turn a dress that should have been sexy into skanky. I finished my drink and went back to the dance floor, finding Rachel and pulling her to the side. I tried to ask her who the girl was, but the music was too loud. I pointed towards Scott and hoped that she would figure out what I was trying to communicate. She looked at me and shrugged, then held up a finger and swaggered off. She was a sight in that costume. I watched as she made her way over to Scott and try to start a conversation. I shook my head; I was acting like some jealous girlfriend. I didn't get it. I focused on the song playing and began to dance, one of the guys around siding up to me. I glanced over to the bar after a bit and watched as Scott turned away from Rachel and back to the blonde. Despite the fact that my favorite song had just begun to play I pushed my way out of the dance floor to see what happened. Rachel didn't just look rejected, she looked pissed. I lost sight of the bar for a second as a wave of people came rushing the floor. After the flood had ceased I glanced at the bar again, Rachel was still there sulking, but Scott had disappeared.
"Where'd he go?" I asked when I reached the bar.
Rachel looked up, "Off with the matching blonde slut."
I raised my eyebrows, "What?" getting no response I looked up at the bartender, Ian. Ian was a great guy, obviously gay and great all around. A while back he had a run in with some asshole that had been a part of the crowd around Rachel and me one night. Apparently the guy thought that watching two girls make out was the greatest, but when Ian offered to buy the guy a drink, well, it wasn't pretty. Let's just say, Ian's gaydar was either way off or broken. Rachel and I found Ian outside holding baggie of ice to his bruised face. We promptly found the guy who'd beaten poor Ian and mock seduced him into coming behind the warehouse. Again, needless to say, the guy was never seen at a party with Rachel and I again and Ian was our new favorite bartender. Plus the free drinks didn't hurt.
"Hey Ian, where'd the good looking guy in the suit take off to?"
Ian sighed, "You mean the one who is obviously *not* gay? He sighed dreamily, "He took of with the chick that everyone thought was his date. Something about matching tires? Or was it attire? I don't know."
"What?" I asked again, "Scott took off with an actual person? The party hasn't even be going on for more than an hour and he's already shacking up with some big boobed, blonde bimbo? That's just not right."
"Oh, I hear that girlfriend,' Ian nodded, "What he needs is to do is shack up with a scrawny, blonde, handsome gay boy, such as myself."
I laughed, "You know. I've wondered about him myself. If I find out something I'll have to invite you to dinner."
"Excuse me." He held up his hand. "You have dinner with that guy?"
"I live with that guy," I grinned.
'Oh, bitch. Get out of my bar, right now," he teased.
"Bring it on, missy," I tossed back before turning to Rachel, "Is this guy for real?"
Rachel looked over at me. "I can't believe he'd rather leave with her than dance with us. What does she have that I don't?"
I slung an arm around her, "Nothing, except for the obvious implants. He just probably thinks you're only into making time with the ladies. What'd he say that got you all mopey anyway?"
"I am not mopey." She whined. "I'm just slightly irritated."
"Wow, someone's been reading my dictionary." Getting nothing but a flat look in response, I glanced at Ian, who leaned closer to me.
"It's not every day that Miss Thing over there gets blown off, you know," he stage whispered.
I sighed, "Especially for some no good blonde thing. She wasn't even his type anyway."
"Oh, girl. Please tell me I'm his type." Ian pleaded.
Chuckling, I glanced around the party, "Sorry Ian, babe. But I'm pretty sure he's straight. He's way too into getting greased up in the garage."
"Bitch, please! Now you're just trying to get me turned on. Stop already!" Ian joked.
Giving Ian a wink, I shook my head, "Scott may be off limits, but I do know of a few guys that might be more into something you've got." I nodded my head down the bar at a group of guys that had been eyeing him, "Go work your magic, girl." I encouraged and with a flip of his towel he was off to get the group whatever they might want.
Ah Ian, if he weren't gay, Rachel and me would make him our love slave. I sighed then turned my focus back to Rachel, "Come on Ray. Don't be a downer. Let's go dance."
Rachel finished her drink and stood, "Anything to get little miss 'So, like, I keep getting asked if you're my date. You know we're both wearing old gangster clothes. Maybe we should hook up.' out of my head."
I grabbed her hand, "Sweets, you're more woman than that girl any day. And to make it better," I pulled her close as a slow song started, "you're with me."
After that, Rachel seemed a bit better. And even though it was fun, and we did dance and make out and dance some more, then put on little shows for the crowd, I couldn't help but wonder where Scott had run off to. I mean, I'd seen the girl. And sure she was cute, but, I really didn't think Scott was like that. And they hadn't been talking for very long. No more than ten minutes or so. But as always, I just shook it off and continued to party.
Some odd hours later I kept looking over to the bar, hoping that Scott would show up again. Not seeing him, I sighed and made my way to our corner of the party. I glanced at Rachel who was busy scamming with some guy. She was plastered already and had completely forgotten about being turned down. I studied Rachel and the guy for a second. Funny how I could watch her make out with some guy I didn't even know and not care, but the thought of Scott taking off with some girl wouldn't leave me alone. Shaking my head to clear my thoughts I took off for the door. Rachel wouldn't notice if I was gone anyway, and I didn't feel like drinking anymore. Besides, I was exhausted and there was a piece of material was wedged so far up my crack I was starting to walk funny.
I was sure that Rachel was going to end up at my place anyway. For the mere reason that the walk to the junkyard was shorter than the walk to her place. I was a bit tipsy as I walked out into the smoggy air around the building. I guess I'd had a bit more to drink that I thought. Wiggling a bit to try and dislodge the fabric of the skirt, I heard someone call my name. Apparently Rachel had noticed that I wasn't around anymore and had come after me.
"Hey, you're bailing?" she asked after she caught up to me.
"Yeah," I nodded, starting to walk again, "I'm not feeling so great, besides, as good as I'm sure I look, I can't stand this skirt anymore."
Rachel glanced at me, "You sure that's all?"
I forced a laugh, "Yeah, what else would it be?"
"Oh, nothing, I'm sure." Rachel muttered, falling into step beside me.
We walked the rest of the way in silence. I noticed Rachel stumbling a bit so I put an arm around her. "You're too drunk to be walking alone." She didn't say anything in response. So I took that as a good sign.
We walked into the junkyard and made our way to the shack. I was tired and irritated and really looking forward to the bed in there. My body was so tired from working then partying and dancing, I could care less about Scott and Miss Blondie Thingy. And I wasn't even sure what time it was or how long we'd been out.
Leaning on each other, we reached the door and I kicked it open. I froze the second we walked through the door. Rachel looked around, realized what was going on, and made a noise that sounded like a drunken giggle. "Are we all getting in the bed? Or are we going to spend the night in the back seat of some cheap vehicle?"
"I wouldn't get within two feet of where that thing was sleeping." I snapped.
Rachel scoffed, "I'll be in the garage then." Glancing at the bed she leaned over, giving me a very wet and drunk kiss. "Join me when you're done."
I glanced at the bed again. By this time the two people in the bed were sitting up, each covering themselves with the blankets we had. It seemed that Scott had come back to the junkyard, and he'd brought the blonde with him. At least that's what I came to make of the two figures that had been, until Rach and I walked in, making noises and moving around in the bed. I cleared my throat and flipped on the lights. "Good morning sunshine. Sorry to interrupt, but you're in my bed and I'm tired."
Scott looked over at me, his hair no longer perfect. It was very tousled. "Get out Kat," he growled.
I put my hands on my hips, the alcohol making me a bit braver than usual. "You get out, Scott. I want to sleep."
Scott looked at the blonde then to me, "I'm busy. You can have the bed later."
"I don't want the bed later." I took a step forward," I want the bed now."
Before either Scott or I could stop her, the blonde pushed Scott away and climbed out of the bed. Hello naked blonde girl. And yes, definitely implants. "No," she looked from me to Scott, "I'll make it easy for you."
I wasn't sure if she was talking to Scott or me at that point.
"No, Jessie, You don't have to go." Scott stated, wrapping the blanket around his waist and standing up. And hello Mr. Six-pack.
Slipping on her dress she turned away from Scott and towards me, "You can have the bed, and the guy. He wasn't getting anything done anyway. I've heard stories, I'm sure you can get something out of him."
"Excuse me?" I challenged her.
She laughed slightly before glancing my way, "You're Kat right?"
My brow furrowed, although, I don't' know why she wouldn't know who I was. I was at every party. If she were anyone she would have heard something about me. "What's your point?' I asked.
She walked to the door, "I'm sure you'll figure it out someday. And maybe this time you will choose somewhere with more class than a bathroom counter."
With that she was gone and I turned back to Scott, "You brought that...that thing into my home? And then into my bed? She's lucky she walked out when she did, otherwise I would have kicked the fake-ass tittied bitch."
Scott's jaw tightened, 'Oh, don't pull that shit. I had to walk in mid stride on you and Rachel and you didn't even have the courtesy to stop, so don't even start in on me."
"You weren't due home for another day!" I shrieked. "You were early!"
"Yeah well sometimes life happens," he roared back, "Excuse me for thinking we might grab a nice dinner in celebration."
My eyes widened, "Don't you dare yell at me and then you try to make it as if it was *my* fault, you asshole! You brought that piece of trash here. Into my house and into my bed, fully knowing that I was going to come home tonight! How dare you!"
Scott shook his head, his voice mocking me in a falsetto. "How dare I? How dare I?" His face turned a nice shade of red, as his voice went back to its normal tone, "How can you have the gall to yell at me when you're out sleeping with all the party animals of LA? At least I knew her name before we hooked up."
Okay, now, that hurt. It may have been true. But it still stung, "What are you talking about?" I asked, grasping at some thin thread.
"Oh, please. Come on Kat." He took a step towards me, "You think I don't know what's going on with you? You think I don't hear people talking? As opposed to what you or Rachel think, I do get out of my "hole" as you guys have been calling it. And I hear things. You and Rachel are one of the most popular topics of conversation."
I'm not sure, but I think I looked like a deer caught in the headlights, "Well," I sputtered. "What I do outside of this garage is my business."
"What you do?" Scott's eyebrow shot up, "You mean you're messing around with more than just humans?"
"You bastard." I screamed, "That was low and you know it."
"Low?" he turned, aghast, "Low would be asking when you're going to bring home Rachel *and* a Great Dane. You just kicked a girl I was in bed with out and you have the nerve to call me low?"
I crossed my arms, "She got up out of the bed on her own. I didn't rip her out of it."
"The point still remains." He continued, "At least when I walked in I didn't say anything and just left. You could have done the same!"
"And risk getting stains on the sheets? Lord already knows what I'm going to have to scrub off of there!"
"Nothing worse than what you've put on there, I'm sure." He turned and shook his head, "It was hypocritical of you, Kat. I would have expected more."
"Ugh, I'm crushed." I answered. "I mean, I'm so sorry you didn't have to sleep with that trash. You probably would have caught something anyway."
He turned back to me, "No Kat, I couldn't have. Because nothing happened. And nothing was going to happen. I'm not like you. I don't go screwing everything that crosses my path. I was just fooling around, nothing serious. I may be a guy, but I'm not that kind of a guy."
I scoffed, "Oh, so you just fell on top of her while you were both naked?"
"No." glaring at me Scott dropped the sheet. To my surprise he was still wearing the pants to his suit. "I don't just go around screwing the first thing that takes off their clothes."
I blinked, unsure of what to say. "Bastard." I growled, moving towards the garage, "Fucking bastard."
He glared at me, "What? Because I'm honest? Because I'm exposing your actions to you?"
I froze. I thought what he'd said earlier had stung. I bit my lip, refusing to cry. I didn't care what he said. I wouldn't let him see me cry.
"Just go," he said in a patronizing voice. "Crawl into Rachel's warm arms and screw the hard stuff away." I took a step back. I guess he wasn't pulling out any stops for this one. "I tried, okay," he continued in an emotionless voice. "I tried to live like you. And you know what? I'd rather sit and meddle with a car than continuously lose pieces of myself to God knows who. I couldn't last more than an hour at that God forsaken party. How the hell can you last months? You must be so dead and trampled inside. I feel sorry for you."
I blinked. This time a tear slipped from my eye, "I don't need your pity. I don't need anything. All I wanted was some fun. All I wanted was some time out of here." With that I turned and walked out of the shack. I didn't know where I was going. But I was suddenly sober and crying for the third time since I'd ran away.
I shrugged it off and turned to Rachel and our party began. We hit the floor and the party came alive. The crowd was in full costume. From wizards, to garbage men, to bunny rabbits. Everyone was moving and grooving, the beat resounding in the movements.
After a few songs I made my way to the bar and ordered a drink, noticing out of the corner of my eye Scott talking to some blonde girl. She was all done up in this 1920's flapper costume. Except she had managed to turn a dress that should have been sexy into skanky. I finished my drink and went back to the dance floor, finding Rachel and pulling her to the side. I tried to ask her who the girl was, but the music was too loud. I pointed towards Scott and hoped that she would figure out what I was trying to communicate. She looked at me and shrugged, then held up a finger and swaggered off. She was a sight in that costume. I watched as she made her way over to Scott and try to start a conversation. I shook my head; I was acting like some jealous girlfriend. I didn't get it. I focused on the song playing and began to dance, one of the guys around siding up to me. I glanced over to the bar after a bit and watched as Scott turned away from Rachel and back to the blonde. Despite the fact that my favorite song had just begun to play I pushed my way out of the dance floor to see what happened. Rachel didn't just look rejected, she looked pissed. I lost sight of the bar for a second as a wave of people came rushing the floor. After the flood had ceased I glanced at the bar again, Rachel was still there sulking, but Scott had disappeared.
"Where'd he go?" I asked when I reached the bar.
Rachel looked up, "Off with the matching blonde slut."
I raised my eyebrows, "What?" getting no response I looked up at the bartender, Ian. Ian was a great guy, obviously gay and great all around. A while back he had a run in with some asshole that had been a part of the crowd around Rachel and me one night. Apparently the guy thought that watching two girls make out was the greatest, but when Ian offered to buy the guy a drink, well, it wasn't pretty. Let's just say, Ian's gaydar was either way off or broken. Rachel and I found Ian outside holding baggie of ice to his bruised face. We promptly found the guy who'd beaten poor Ian and mock seduced him into coming behind the warehouse. Again, needless to say, the guy was never seen at a party with Rachel and I again and Ian was our new favorite bartender. Plus the free drinks didn't hurt.
"Hey Ian, where'd the good looking guy in the suit take off to?"
Ian sighed, "You mean the one who is obviously *not* gay? He sighed dreamily, "He took of with the chick that everyone thought was his date. Something about matching tires? Or was it attire? I don't know."
"What?" I asked again, "Scott took off with an actual person? The party hasn't even be going on for more than an hour and he's already shacking up with some big boobed, blonde bimbo? That's just not right."
"Oh, I hear that girlfriend,' Ian nodded, "What he needs is to do is shack up with a scrawny, blonde, handsome gay boy, such as myself."
I laughed, "You know. I've wondered about him myself. If I find out something I'll have to invite you to dinner."
"Excuse me." He held up his hand. "You have dinner with that guy?"
"I live with that guy," I grinned.
'Oh, bitch. Get out of my bar, right now," he teased.
"Bring it on, missy," I tossed back before turning to Rachel, "Is this guy for real?"
Rachel looked over at me. "I can't believe he'd rather leave with her than dance with us. What does she have that I don't?"
I slung an arm around her, "Nothing, except for the obvious implants. He just probably thinks you're only into making time with the ladies. What'd he say that got you all mopey anyway?"
"I am not mopey." She whined. "I'm just slightly irritated."
"Wow, someone's been reading my dictionary." Getting nothing but a flat look in response, I glanced at Ian, who leaned closer to me.
"It's not every day that Miss Thing over there gets blown off, you know," he stage whispered.
I sighed, "Especially for some no good blonde thing. She wasn't even his type anyway."
"Oh, girl. Please tell me I'm his type." Ian pleaded.
Chuckling, I glanced around the party, "Sorry Ian, babe. But I'm pretty sure he's straight. He's way too into getting greased up in the garage."
"Bitch, please! Now you're just trying to get me turned on. Stop already!" Ian joked.
Giving Ian a wink, I shook my head, "Scott may be off limits, but I do know of a few guys that might be more into something you've got." I nodded my head down the bar at a group of guys that had been eyeing him, "Go work your magic, girl." I encouraged and with a flip of his towel he was off to get the group whatever they might want.
Ah Ian, if he weren't gay, Rachel and me would make him our love slave. I sighed then turned my focus back to Rachel, "Come on Ray. Don't be a downer. Let's go dance."
Rachel finished her drink and stood, "Anything to get little miss 'So, like, I keep getting asked if you're my date. You know we're both wearing old gangster clothes. Maybe we should hook up.' out of my head."
I grabbed her hand, "Sweets, you're more woman than that girl any day. And to make it better," I pulled her close as a slow song started, "you're with me."
After that, Rachel seemed a bit better. And even though it was fun, and we did dance and make out and dance some more, then put on little shows for the crowd, I couldn't help but wonder where Scott had run off to. I mean, I'd seen the girl. And sure she was cute, but, I really didn't think Scott was like that. And they hadn't been talking for very long. No more than ten minutes or so. But as always, I just shook it off and continued to party.
Some odd hours later I kept looking over to the bar, hoping that Scott would show up again. Not seeing him, I sighed and made my way to our corner of the party. I glanced at Rachel who was busy scamming with some guy. She was plastered already and had completely forgotten about being turned down. I studied Rachel and the guy for a second. Funny how I could watch her make out with some guy I didn't even know and not care, but the thought of Scott taking off with some girl wouldn't leave me alone. Shaking my head to clear my thoughts I took off for the door. Rachel wouldn't notice if I was gone anyway, and I didn't feel like drinking anymore. Besides, I was exhausted and there was a piece of material was wedged so far up my crack I was starting to walk funny.
I was sure that Rachel was going to end up at my place anyway. For the mere reason that the walk to the junkyard was shorter than the walk to her place. I was a bit tipsy as I walked out into the smoggy air around the building. I guess I'd had a bit more to drink that I thought. Wiggling a bit to try and dislodge the fabric of the skirt, I heard someone call my name. Apparently Rachel had noticed that I wasn't around anymore and had come after me.
"Hey, you're bailing?" she asked after she caught up to me.
"Yeah," I nodded, starting to walk again, "I'm not feeling so great, besides, as good as I'm sure I look, I can't stand this skirt anymore."
Rachel glanced at me, "You sure that's all?"
I forced a laugh, "Yeah, what else would it be?"
"Oh, nothing, I'm sure." Rachel muttered, falling into step beside me.
We walked the rest of the way in silence. I noticed Rachel stumbling a bit so I put an arm around her. "You're too drunk to be walking alone." She didn't say anything in response. So I took that as a good sign.
We walked into the junkyard and made our way to the shack. I was tired and irritated and really looking forward to the bed in there. My body was so tired from working then partying and dancing, I could care less about Scott and Miss Blondie Thingy. And I wasn't even sure what time it was or how long we'd been out.
Leaning on each other, we reached the door and I kicked it open. I froze the second we walked through the door. Rachel looked around, realized what was going on, and made a noise that sounded like a drunken giggle. "Are we all getting in the bed? Or are we going to spend the night in the back seat of some cheap vehicle?"
"I wouldn't get within two feet of where that thing was sleeping." I snapped.
Rachel scoffed, "I'll be in the garage then." Glancing at the bed she leaned over, giving me a very wet and drunk kiss. "Join me when you're done."
I glanced at the bed again. By this time the two people in the bed were sitting up, each covering themselves with the blankets we had. It seemed that Scott had come back to the junkyard, and he'd brought the blonde with him. At least that's what I came to make of the two figures that had been, until Rach and I walked in, making noises and moving around in the bed. I cleared my throat and flipped on the lights. "Good morning sunshine. Sorry to interrupt, but you're in my bed and I'm tired."
Scott looked over at me, his hair no longer perfect. It was very tousled. "Get out Kat," he growled.
I put my hands on my hips, the alcohol making me a bit braver than usual. "You get out, Scott. I want to sleep."
Scott looked at the blonde then to me, "I'm busy. You can have the bed later."
"I don't want the bed later." I took a step forward," I want the bed now."
Before either Scott or I could stop her, the blonde pushed Scott away and climbed out of the bed. Hello naked blonde girl. And yes, definitely implants. "No," she looked from me to Scott, "I'll make it easy for you."
I wasn't sure if she was talking to Scott or me at that point.
"No, Jessie, You don't have to go." Scott stated, wrapping the blanket around his waist and standing up. And hello Mr. Six-pack.
Slipping on her dress she turned away from Scott and towards me, "You can have the bed, and the guy. He wasn't getting anything done anyway. I've heard stories, I'm sure you can get something out of him."
"Excuse me?" I challenged her.
She laughed slightly before glancing my way, "You're Kat right?"
My brow furrowed, although, I don't' know why she wouldn't know who I was. I was at every party. If she were anyone she would have heard something about me. "What's your point?' I asked.
She walked to the door, "I'm sure you'll figure it out someday. And maybe this time you will choose somewhere with more class than a bathroom counter."
With that she was gone and I turned back to Scott, "You brought that...that thing into my home? And then into my bed? She's lucky she walked out when she did, otherwise I would have kicked the fake-ass tittied bitch."
Scott's jaw tightened, 'Oh, don't pull that shit. I had to walk in mid stride on you and Rachel and you didn't even have the courtesy to stop, so don't even start in on me."
"You weren't due home for another day!" I shrieked. "You were early!"
"Yeah well sometimes life happens," he roared back, "Excuse me for thinking we might grab a nice dinner in celebration."
My eyes widened, "Don't you dare yell at me and then you try to make it as if it was *my* fault, you asshole! You brought that piece of trash here. Into my house and into my bed, fully knowing that I was going to come home tonight! How dare you!"
Scott shook his head, his voice mocking me in a falsetto. "How dare I? How dare I?" His face turned a nice shade of red, as his voice went back to its normal tone, "How can you have the gall to yell at me when you're out sleeping with all the party animals of LA? At least I knew her name before we hooked up."
Okay, now, that hurt. It may have been true. But it still stung, "What are you talking about?" I asked, grasping at some thin thread.
"Oh, please. Come on Kat." He took a step towards me, "You think I don't know what's going on with you? You think I don't hear people talking? As opposed to what you or Rachel think, I do get out of my "hole" as you guys have been calling it. And I hear things. You and Rachel are one of the most popular topics of conversation."
I'm not sure, but I think I looked like a deer caught in the headlights, "Well," I sputtered. "What I do outside of this garage is my business."
"What you do?" Scott's eyebrow shot up, "You mean you're messing around with more than just humans?"
"You bastard." I screamed, "That was low and you know it."
"Low?" he turned, aghast, "Low would be asking when you're going to bring home Rachel *and* a Great Dane. You just kicked a girl I was in bed with out and you have the nerve to call me low?"
I crossed my arms, "She got up out of the bed on her own. I didn't rip her out of it."
"The point still remains." He continued, "At least when I walked in I didn't say anything and just left. You could have done the same!"
"And risk getting stains on the sheets? Lord already knows what I'm going to have to scrub off of there!"
"Nothing worse than what you've put on there, I'm sure." He turned and shook his head, "It was hypocritical of you, Kat. I would have expected more."
"Ugh, I'm crushed." I answered. "I mean, I'm so sorry you didn't have to sleep with that trash. You probably would have caught something anyway."
He turned back to me, "No Kat, I couldn't have. Because nothing happened. And nothing was going to happen. I'm not like you. I don't go screwing everything that crosses my path. I was just fooling around, nothing serious. I may be a guy, but I'm not that kind of a guy."
I scoffed, "Oh, so you just fell on top of her while you were both naked?"
"No." glaring at me Scott dropped the sheet. To my surprise he was still wearing the pants to his suit. "I don't just go around screwing the first thing that takes off their clothes."
I blinked, unsure of what to say. "Bastard." I growled, moving towards the garage, "Fucking bastard."
He glared at me, "What? Because I'm honest? Because I'm exposing your actions to you?"
I froze. I thought what he'd said earlier had stung. I bit my lip, refusing to cry. I didn't care what he said. I wouldn't let him see me cry.
"Just go," he said in a patronizing voice. "Crawl into Rachel's warm arms and screw the hard stuff away." I took a step back. I guess he wasn't pulling out any stops for this one. "I tried, okay," he continued in an emotionless voice. "I tried to live like you. And you know what? I'd rather sit and meddle with a car than continuously lose pieces of myself to God knows who. I couldn't last more than an hour at that God forsaken party. How the hell can you last months? You must be so dead and trampled inside. I feel sorry for you."
I blinked. This time a tear slipped from my eye, "I don't need your pity. I don't need anything. All I wanted was some fun. All I wanted was some time out of here." With that I turned and walked out of the shack. I didn't know where I was going. But I was suddenly sober and crying for the third time since I'd ran away.