Chapter 2

I'm Tangled Up in You

I can see him sitting there through the window. Of course there are like a million girls around him all gossiping, 'is that him?'. I cringe. I have to talk to him or he's probably going show up at the house again. But I really don't want to go inside. Too risky. In the day of twitter and cell phone video I do not want my face plastered all over the web for the world to see. It will get me in way too much trouble. So I sit for a long time and try to think my way out of it. Then I have a moment of genius. I pull my hair back, put on some sunglasses and dial. I ask the coffee barista to hand the phone off to her celebrity customer and a few quick seconds later he is standing beside me.

"Where is your car?" I question, grabbing his arm. He leads me to it and I force him in.

"Why do I feel like I am in a spy movie?" he questions as I force him to buckle his seat belt. Saftey first.

"Because all I need is for my fiancé... oh, don't give me that look. Of course I'm trying it again. But I don't want him to see pictures of me with you on the internet. Just drive and I will direct you," I command.

"Why don't you just drive?" He furrows his brow at me.

"Because I walked. My car is... well it's a little difficult for me to go unnoticed in it."

"And why on earth would anyone want to be seen with me?" He laughs then goes back to our original subject. "Why didn't you just tell him where you were going?"

I laugh. "Tell him that I have a coffee date with the guy that I once upon a time accidentaly married? That would go over well. Especially since now your the new Hollywood boy toy." Of course he couldn't be some auto mechanic working in Detroit or something. He had to go and become and actor. And he just had to fall into the biggest movie of the summer and steal everyone's heart. Does my luck suck or what? Who exepcts their one night stand to turn out to actually be famous in the future? Stuff like that just doesn't happen in real life.

"What? We're old friends." He shrugs.

"We were never friends." I shake my head. "We knew each other for about twelve minutes. We spent four minutes drinking. Four minutes yelling. And four minutes fucking. That doesn't make us friends. It makes us people that should probably go their separate ways."

"So tell me a little bit about the new guy."

"What are you doing here, Edward?" I cut to the chase. I'm not much for small talk. "We have nothing to say to each other. It's been five years. We haven't so much as sent each other Christmas cards."

"I don't know." He shrugs. "I guess I was just looking for an old friend."

"Like I said, we were never friends."

He looked at me. "But we were close."

"By accident. It was a mistake. We did what people all across the country do on a daily basis. We sought comfort in alcohol and sex. Then we just took it to the next level. It shouldn't have happened."

"I quit drinking," he admits, picking at some fuzz on his pants. "About three years ago. I made a lot of mistakes in my life. And most of them stemmed from the kinds of nights that we shared. It's been good. Haven't had a drop of alcohol in 8 months."

"I'm happy for you." I nod and tell him to stop the car in a small secluded park. "Is this like, part of one of the steps or something?"

"No." He smirks. "Like I said, I was just looking for a friend. I know you say we're not, but I feel like we are. Right after Vegas, things changed."

"I'll say so, you became a movie star."

He nods. "Yeah," he says somberly. "And you were the last person I met to truly be honest to me. And you still are. You've been basically trying to tell me nicely to fuck off. I just miss that, the honestly, people not trying to kiss my ass."

"You came a long way for me to just treat you like a human being. You could have called and I would have told you to fuck off just the same."

"That's not what I mean." He pauses and runs his fingers through his hair. "You're still treating me like the same guy I was five years ago."

"And why would that change? You acted like an asshole then. You're acting like an asshole now." I pause and try to calm myself. "If that's what this is about, I'm out. I can't do it. I can't help you fix your problems. I've got problems of my own now. I can't help you through whatever Hollywood complex you have now."

He laughs and shakes his head. "It's not a Hollywood complex. Like I said, I quit drinking two years ago. Had a few relapses but nothing I couldn't handle. And since then…" He licks his lips. "I've just been thinking about the past."

"The past is over. You need to get over it and move on. Step six or something on that whole process. I don't know, I'm making it up. But it sounds right." I talk so quickly and wonder if he understood anything I've said.

And at that moment Edward seems to lose it a little bit. "Can you shut the fuck up and let me talk?" There's the Edward I know. "I'm a firm believer that all things happen for a reason. Five years ago wasn't just an accident."

"Tell me about it!" I throw up my hands. "It helped you quit drinking. And it made me stop being such a drunken whore. After a few more slip ups. But that's beside the point." I see the anger shooting out of his eyes. "Sorry. I'll try not to interrupt again."

"I just feel like, maybe we weren't finished."

I shake my head and laugh again. "If things happen for a reason then, yes. We are finished." I pause and look away. "You never called."

"You left a number to a very cranky old lady that does not like wrong numbers."

"And I gave the dude, your friend, your brother, the one that was very interested in watching us have sex, I gave him the read one. And you still never called. We're over. We've been over."

He again shakes his head. "I never got that. He never gave it to me."

"Well, there you go. It still wasn't meant to happen."

"No. Do you think it's a coincidence that I show up the night you're announcing your engagement?"

"Yes. Horrible timing your part by the way. Worst ever. If I would have had a gun. I would have been forced to use it and bury you in the back yard."

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Can you please just go along with it? Give me a week. That's all I want."

"I don't have a week. I'm a very busy girl these days. I've already given you too much time. I have to get back to my life."

"One week. Please."

"I can't. I can't make a weeks worth of excuses."

"Then don't make excuses," he argues.

"I have to. I can't tell the truth on this one. Let everyone know that five years ago I fucked up that bad. Not only will my father kill me and you. But so will my fiancé."

Edward shrugs. "I could take him."

That makes me laugh. "I don't think so."

"You've never seen me fight before. I'm pretty good. And I've got some guns." He flexes to make his point.

I laugh even harder. "Sorry, I don't mean to be rude. But, no." I shake my head. "He'd eat a guy like you for breakfast. So will his friends. Especially his friends. They would tear you apart. You could bring your whole posse and that still wouldn't help. He's…you'll find out, I'm sure. I'm surprised you don't already."

We spend the ride back to the coffee house in silence. He parks the car.

I rest my hand on the door handle but it doesn't open. "I would like to get out of the car now," I request in my nicest voice possible. But he doesn't budge. "Please." I try again. "Let me out of the fucking car!" I shout, losing my patience.

And that gets a smile out of him. "Since you're not playing nice. Neither am I. Give me a week or I'm telling your meathead boy toy about us." I grip the door handle until my knuckles turn white. Not fair! "I'll let you think about it." He grabs a pen from his pocket and writes a number on my arm. "Call me tonight and let me know what you're decision is." He unlocks the door, I fall out in shock and he pulls away.

That's it. I'm fucked.