“Oh my God. Did she shoot you down?” Henry stared at me as if I just sprouted a third eye.
“Are you kidding? No. I don’t know her. I don’t want to know her. Is that so hard to understand?” Three more gulps of beer. “Man, you’re bugging me with this. If you want a piece of her you go get it but I’m a little more upscale.”
"Yeah, Monica Smith is real top-drawer material."
I didn't want to hear any more. I couldn't. There was something in everything Henry was saying that was making my insides coil up like a snake and I didn't want them to spring. I didn't want to upset my friend but I also couldn't give myself away.
So I strolled around surveying the damage. Aside from the picture I didn’t see any real damage. But the night was still young. Every route I took lead me back to the sunroom where Tilly was with her friends. She never looked up. Not once. Never made any attempt to look for me or even look at me. It was like she had totally forgotten about me already.
I grabbed another beer letting the empty plastic cup fall to the floor as I chugged half the new one. My head was swimming.
Speaking of swimming I went out into the yard. The music was still thumping and every couple of second a splash could be heard as someone was jumping in the water. The smell of chlorine was high which meant the pool system was working overtime. God only knew what kinds of bacteria were swimming around in there. It would be the Fourth of July before I’d even consider taking a dip.
Although I knew where I was and who I was the whole yard seemed to tilt just a little as I walked. Thankfully I had enough friends on all sides I could use them to steady myself.
“Why did you invite them?” The words Tilly spoke in the backseat were kicking my ass right now. I don’t know why I invited all these people. I don’t know why I let strangers join in. Like that little red-headed guy who was hanging on Tilly the whole time.
I couldn’t help think she’d be with him later tonight. I couldn’t prove it. I didn’t know it for sure. She didn’t say anything to me about a boyfriend, either.
Maybe she was just the kind of girl that slept around.
No. We had something. Between the two of us in the back seat of my dad's Bentley, it was more than just fucking.
You mean, it was for you. You don't know if it was for her and by the way, she's acting. I looked in the window of the sunroom and saw her getting her ass grabbed as if it were nothing. She’s not thinking of you at all.
My body began to revolt against me. My stomach lurched and I quickly went back inside. Henry was just a few steps away as I staggered in. All I could say was “She’s a bitch. I fucked her in my dad’s Bentley tonight.” I glared at Tilly just in time to see her turn her back and walk away. She didn’t even notice me.
"You mean Telula Grant?" Henry asked. He had been pounding the drinks since the afternoon and unless he had a wooden leg the guy could handle alcohol better than any seasoned alcoholic on the planet. "You want me to go stop her?"
I waved my hand, slipped down into a small space on one of Jenna's favorite Brunschwig and Fils loveseat and passed out.
Chapter 11 – Tilly
“Why don’t you call him?” Sandy pushed. Two days after the party I told her all about my encounter with Lucas and after I picked her up off the floor she demanded every detail.
“I can’t call him.” I humbugged. “I’ll look desperate.”
“Aren’t you?”
“Very funny. No I’m not. Give me some of that.” We were sharing a cup of double chocolate chip ice cream from the food court at a mall that was slowly disintegrating into oblivion. There were more empty storefronts than there were actual open businesses. But the food court was always jumping. It was probably the only thing keeping the place alive. “I’m not sure what I am. But I’m telling you, Sand, I saw a side of him that was different. He was funny and he listened to me. I had a good time and a “good time”, if you catch my meaning.”
“I just hope you don’t catch anything else.” Sandy mumbled looking at me out of the corner of her eye.
“Come on. Be serious.”
“I am. Tilly, I’m not trying to bust your bubble but Lucas Brine is a grade-A asshole. You remember how he was in school. A few hours after graduation does not a prince make.” She took the cup of ice cream from me and helped herself to another spoonful.
“Maybe he always was a prince and was turned into an asshole after his mom died. That is a completely reasonable theory.” Now I knew how Alexander Fleming felt when he discovered penicillin. Sort of.
“Yeah, you could be right about that.” Sandy concurred. “Divorce has that effect on children. I’m sure death does the same thing. And with Old Man Brine bringing in another woman to the marital bed, that’s got to be a mind-screw I wouldn’t want any part of.”
“See? So I can’t just focus on the negative about him. I saw something there that was better than what we saw in school.”
“That we saw every day for four years in school. Let’s not sugar coat it.”
I slouched my shoulders.
“What would you do if you were me?” I helped myself to another scoop of ice cream. “Would you call him or would you just call it an anomaly and move on?”