Four Years Later (One Week Girlfriend 4)

“Yeah.” Des makes a skeptical noise. “What the hell was that all about? Like, whose counselor ever wants to meet with a student?”

“Is she hot?” Wade asks. “Don’t tell me the sexy little waitress is your counselor, dude. ’Cos she’s hot.”

Irritation fills my veins, making my blood ignite. “No, the waitress is not my counselor, you dumbass. My counselor’s name is Dolores, and I’m pretty sure she’s two hundred years old.”

“That waitress was nowhere near hot,” Des says, kicking at a rock. It skitters across the broken sidewalk and lands on the side of the road. “Did you see what she was wearing? Black polyester sucks.”

“How the hell do you know that she’s wearing polyester? What, are you in fashion design now?” Wade sneers.

Fuck. These two love to go round and round. Wade is my oldest friend. Des is one of my newer friends. They claim to like each other, but sometimes …

I wonder.

“Knock it off,” I tell them both, not in the mood. When am I ever in the mood to hear them fight?

“So who is she?” Des asks. “The not-hot waitress wearing polyester.”

I wouldn’t call her hot. But she’s definitely not ugly. She’s … sweet. All clean, wholesome innocence. I bet if I looked close enough, she’d have a sprinkle of freckles across her nose. “I met with my counselor, and Coach and Drew and Fable were there.”

“Your brother-in-law was there?” Des’s mouth hangs open. He’s in awe of Drew. Wade’s not, because he’s known him forever, but Des and I only became friends early in our freshman year of college. The fact that my brother-in-law plays for the 49ers sends most guys into a dumbstruck stupor.

“I’m failing a few classes,” I say, my voice grim. “They got me a tutor. The waitress?”

“Is your tutor,” Wade finishes for me, shaking his head. “Man, you need to keep clean. No more dope for a while.”

Weed. It’s been my problem for years. I’ve been smoking since I was in junior high, back when we lived with my mom and she didn’t give a shit what we did. Once Fable took over, she forced me to quit. Drew made me want to quit. But then …

I fell back into my bad habits. I can’t help it that I like how I feel when I’m high. Nothing gets me down. My troubles don’t weigh heavily on my soul. And I’ve got them. Troubles. Most of them I created myself.

Some I didn’t ask for at all. One, specifically, is my mom. She’s like that fly that keeps hovering around you and no matter how much you swat it away, it comes back. Bigger and louder than ever.

Yeah. That’s her. A nagging, fat, irritating-as-fuck fly.

“You probably shouldn’t have gone out tonight, either,” Des says.

Since when did these two idiots turn responsible? “Listen, I’m gonna have to lay low for a while. Catch up on my homework, retake a few tests, and bring my grades up.” I can’t believe I’m saying this. I was totally against it earlier. Only because the tutoring sessions were screwing with my work schedule, and I need that money so Fable doesn’t know I’m giving most of it to Mom.

But I talked to my boss earlier, before we went bar hopping. Got everything straightened out and a new schedule. I can do all of it. No problem. The tutoring is temporary anyway. Once I get my grades back up, I won’t need Chelsea’s help any longer.

“You’re gonna be busy,” Wade says. “No time for chicks.”

“When do I ever make time for chicks?”

“A few weeks ago, when you brought that one girl back to the house. I know you thought I was asleep on the couch, but I heard you bang her brains out,” Wade says with a laugh.

Sneaky, sick f**ker. “You were listening to me bang her?”

She’d been loud. Lots of ooh, touch me right there and yeah, I like it just like that. All of it had felt incredibly fake. Like she was putting on a performance and thinking that was what I wanted. I went with it. Encouraged her, even, with all the essential dirty talk she seemed to crave, but I hadn’t been into it. I hadn’t lasted long and when it was over, I kicked her out quick.

I can’t even remember her name.

“It couldn’t be avoided. She was a screamer.” Wade nudges Des in the ribs and they break into laughter.

Bastards.

“I get more pu**y than the two of you put together,” I say, irritated that I’m making that some sort of claim to fame.

“Considering Des is g*y, that’s not saying much. Ow!” Wade rubs his arm when Des socks him in it.

Same old shit, different day. Getting drunk and walking home. Name calling. Bragging about pu**y.

I’m getting sick of it. Sick of my life. Sick of me. I need a change. I need to leave.

I’m talking to Fable about it tomorrow.

CHAPTER 3

Owen

“You know I would love it if you came here, but Drew’s traveling a lot with the team for games and I’ve been going with him,” Fable says, her voice full of regret.

I clutch my cell phone tight and close my eyes. I’m still in bed. It’s past one o’clock and I have a class at two. I need to get my ass moving. “You travel even with the baby?”

My niece, Autumn, is their whole world. She’s three and a half months old and the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. She makes these little cooing noises whenever she sees me, which isn’t often enough. She looks just like Fable. Drew loves nothing more than holding his little baby girl in his arms and walking out in public like that. Paparazzi take pictures and they appear on the Internet, making girls swoon.

Those photos make Fable swoon, too. It’s some crazy shit. Who knew women love a dude holding his baby?

“Especially with the baby. Who knows how long I’ll be able to do this? Autumn will get older and next thing you know, she’ll be in school or whatever and I won’t want to go on the road with her. I’m taking advantage while I can.” Fable grunts a little; I can tell she’s juggling the baby because I hear Autumn’s little whimper. “God, she’s greedy.”

I don’t even want to imagine what Fable’s doing right now. “I sort of screwed up my meeting with the tutor,” I admit.

She sighs. “How?”

I tell her what happened, then finish by letting her know about my meeting with Chelsea tonight. That appeases Fable, but I can hear the weariness in her tone when she tells me not to blow this off and that I need to stick with it. I can’t run away from my problems by coming to live with them and blah, blah, blah.