“You were out of it, Abby,” she said dismissively.
“Why don’t you come get me? We can talk about it.”
She breathed into the phone. “I don’t know. I don’t really feel like seeing him.”
“I’ll tell him to stay inside, then.”
After a long pause, I heard keys clink in the background. “All right. I’ll be there in a minute.”
I walked into the living room, pulling my purse over my shoulder. They watched me open the door to wait for America, and Shepley scooted forward on the couch.
“She’s coming here?”
“She doesn’t want to see you, Shep. I told her you’d stay inside.”
He sighed and fell against the cushion. “She hates me.”
“I’ll talk to her. You better get one amazing apology together, though.”
Ten minutes later, a car horn beeped twice outside, and I closed the door behind me. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, Shepley rushed past me to America’s red Honda, and hunched over to see her through the window. I stopped in my tracks, watching America snub him as she looked straight ahead. She rolled down her window, and Shepley seemed to be explaining, and then they began to argue. I went inside to give them their privacy.
“Pigeon?” Travis said, trotting down the stairs.
“It doesn’t look good.”
“Let them figure it out. Come inside,” he said, intertwining his fingers in mine to lead me up the stairs.
“Was it that bad?” I asked.
He nodded. “It was pretty bad. They’re just getting out of the honeymoon stage, though. They’ll work it out.”
“For someone that’s never had a girlfriend, you seem to know about relationships.”
“I have four brothers and a lot of friends,” he said, grinning to himself.
Shepley stomped into the apartment and slammed the door behind him. “She’s fucking impossible!”
I kissed Travis on the cheek. “That’s my cue.”
“Good luck,” Travis said.
I slid in beside America, and she huffed. “He’s fucking impossible!”
I giggled, but she shot a glare in my direction. “Sorry,” I said, forcing my smile to fade.
We set out for a drive and America yelled and cried and yelled some more. At times she broke into rants that seemed to be directed at Shepley, as if he were sitting in my place. I sat quietly, letting her work it out in a way only America can.
“He called me irresponsible! Me! As if I don’t know you! As if I haven’t seen you rob your dad of hundreds of dollars drinking twice as much. He doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about! He doesn’t know what your life was like! He doesn’t know what I know, and he acts like I’m his child instead of his girlfriend!” I rested my hand on hers, but she pulled it away. “He thought you would be the reason we wouldn’t work out, and then he ended up doing the job on his own. And speaking of you, what the hell was that last night with Parker?”
The sudden change of topic took me by surprise. “What do you mean?”
“Travis threw you that party, Abby, and you go off and make out with Parker. And you wonder why everyone is talking about you!”
“Hold on a minute! I told Parker we shouldn’t be back there. What does it matter if Travis threw me that party or not? I’m not with him!”
America looked straight ahead, blowing a puff of air from her nose.
“All right, Mare. What is it? You’re mad at me now?”