You Made Your Bed!

It’s the Friday before I start university, and Sara has convinced me to go out with everyone. Once my course starts, I will have to knuckle down and study, so I’m up for a great big drunken session.

Tanner has already said Tobias will be there, but we’ve made peace now—we’re civil. I still want to jump his bones every time I see him, but the best I can hope for at the minute is a smile from him.

I sit waiting for Tanner, assuming he will be late, and I’m surprised when I see Tobias’s truck pulling up outside Frankie’s. Is he my lift?

“I was expecting Tanner,” I say as I walk up to his open window.

He looks different; his stubble is a little longer than usual, and his faded smiles don’t last like they used to.

“Don’t worry, he’s meeting us there,” he says sarcastically. His eyes go to my new sparkling red car. “Is that yours?” he asks.

I walk around his truck and climb in without answering. He knows it’s mine. Who else would it belong to—Frankie?

“Do you like it?” I ask as I climb in.

He nods his head. “It’s not the kind of car I would expect a princess to go for,” he smirks.

“And what would a princess have? A pink carriage?”

He shrugs, disinterested, and turns his music up. He is playing that song, the one he sang to me—“Talking Tennessee” by Morgan Wallen.

It takes me back to happier times, and I suddenly feel sadness draw over me with the realization that I might never be able to touch or kiss him again.

I wonder if the song is playing on purpose or if it’s just a coincidence, a message to us?

“I am sorry about what I did,” I say as I turn to him. The music is still loud but not so loud that he can’t hear me.

He takes his eyes off the road and looks at me for a second. “It’s fine, it’s done.” He shrugs as he draws his absent eyes back to the darkening road ahead.

“It’s not fine, though,” I protest. “I was drunk and angry, and I shouldn’t have. I know I crossed the line.” I watch for his response.

His body responds first as his hands grip tighter on the wheel and his jaw tightens.

“You sure did, princess,” he affirms.

I draw my eyes from him, his tone ringing in my ears. I spend the rest of the journey on my phone while the pounding of his country music fills the car.

“Friends?” I say as I walk into the bar with him.

He gives me the smallest smile, not very reassuring, and my heart aches at his distance.

“Friends, I guess,” he replies.

I make a beeline for Lee and Waylon when we get into the bar. Sara is running late but should be here soon with her friend Leah. Leah seemed nice when I met her. She also hated Deena, so we had that in common.

Sara invited me to her house again earlier in the week, but I’ve been avoiding her mom, who she said is desperate to meet me.

I guess I don’t feel ready to hear all the stories about my own mom, the woman I missed out on having around.

By the time Sara arrives, I am already half-cut and playing pool with Lee.

Deena has been around but hasn’t bothered me so far. We exchanged a couple of hateful glares, but she probably already knows how much Tobias hates me by now.

“So Lee, what’s with you and these local girls?” I ask.

“What do you mean?” he questions as he lines up his shot.

“Well, I never see you sniffing around them like the others.”

He shrugs and misses his shot. “No one’s ever taken my interest,” he states.

I have an inkling that Lee might be gay, but I don’t want to make assumptions. I don’t know how it would be taken by his friends, but I do know how much the guys love him, so I can’t see it bothering them.

“Maybe a cowboy instead?” I whisper, as I get close and proceed to take my shot. It’s neck and neck now. Who will sink the eight ball?

He stiffens and our eyes catch for a second. His scowl turns to a frown, but he doesn’t speak as he heads back over to the pool table to take his final shot.

Sara joins us and Lee looks skeptically at me before moving to Tanner and Tobias at the bar. They are standing with a couple of women.

I like Lee. I don’t want to upset him, but I hate that he might be hiding who he really is. It’s not the dark ages—people should be able to express who they are, no matter how hard it is for them.

“Who are they?” I ask Sara, nodding in the direction of the women with the Kinsley brothers.

She looks over her shoulder. “Oh, that’s Layla and her cousin. Layla sings in a country band. They’ve played with the guys a few times at local gigs.”

“She likes Tobias, I can tell.”

Sara nods. “Well, she’s always had a thing for him.”

“He doesn’t like her, though?” I ask. I’m trying to figure out why he isn’t with her.

“I don’t know what went on there, but I have no knowledge of him ever being with her.”

I nod, but my eyes stay on the two of them. She laughs as he speaks.

At one point, his eyes catch mine over her shoulder. I blame the alcohol when I don’t shift my gaze. Confidence is high as I stand and stare him down.

It’s him who eventually drops his eyes from mine when he continues to talk to the blonde hottie who is gaga over him.

I dance with Sara and play more pool with Tanner, and Tobias still has that woman by his side.

As my rational, civil mind gets fogged by alcohol, my annoyance builds. I know I should leave before it erupts like a volcano spitting its lava, but I don’t.

I need to know if he goes home with her tonight. The torture of knowing may be less harsh than the agony of never knowing.

“He’s single. He’s free,” I repeat to myself as I try to draw my eyes off of them.

I stand at the bar, hoping that this final drink is the one to numb my pain.

My heart is shattered, and I would rather have physical pain inflicted on me or be made to sleep in a dirty old bed than watch the guy I’m in love with being wooed by another woman.

I’m within earshot of them at the bar, and I listen to her complimenting him. She sounds like such a sucker—no wonder she’s never gotten anywhere with him.

~Who likes to be arse-licked twenty-four seven?~

“Oh, I love this T-shirt, but I think it would look better on my bedroom floor,” she flirts.

I cough as I almost choke on my spit.

~Fuck me! Maybe I should have a word with her, give her a few pointers!~

“Can I get a bottle of your finest champagne?” I say to the bartender when she finally approaches me.

“How many glasses do you want with that?” she asks.

“Just stick a straw in it,” I reply, and she looks at me judgmentally with her mouth ajar.

I’m the one who should be surprised—surprised that they even have champagne in here, but at forty dollars a bottle, as predicted, it tastes more like paint stripper.

When I turn to leave the bar with my champagne and straw, I am faced with utter despair.

Tobias is kissing the arse-licking hottie, his lips covering hers and her hands wrapped around his neck—the neck I want to wrap my arms around, the lips that once belonged to me.

I stand and stare, unable to draw my eyes away. I want to cry. I want to scream.

I feel like my chest has been ripped open with his bare hands and my heart pulled out and stamped on. I have never felt such intense feelings in the pit of my stomach.

I need to look away!

“Ella, are you okay?” Sara asks as she ushers me to the side of the bar.

I take a long sip from my straw and nod. I’m lying—I feel like my emotions are about to explode, and I fear if I allow myself to cry, I’ll never stop.

“I love him,” I whisper to Sara.

“You what?” she asks.

“I think I love him.” I look back at him, and they have pulled apart.

His eyes go straight to me, and I can’t control my emotions anymore.

“I’m sorry, I can’t be here,” I say to Sara as I push past her and head out of the bar.

As I rush out, pushing through the crowd, my heart races. I can feel the pulse in my wrists and head as my fight-or-flight reaction kicks in. I need flight—I need to get out of here before I drown.

“Isobella,” Tobias shouts as I slow down and start to walk down the road.

He catches up to me when I am away from the busy street. I don’t have a clue how long it will take me to walk, but I feel like it will do me good.

“What’s up, Tobias?” I ask. I hold my tears back and try to act cool. “I’m just tired, heading home.”

“You can’t walk it from here, not at this time of night.”

“Oh,” I say as I take a sip from my champagne. “I’ll be fine, I enjoy a good walk.”

“Let me take you back,” he says.

“Nope, I’m fine.” My tears start to fall. I don’t know if it’s because he’s being so nice, because I know exactly what I have lost, or because I am very intoxicated.

He walks closer, and the smell of him increases my sadness. His large, strong hands come up and cup my face as he wipes my tears with his thumbs.

“I’m sorry,” I cry.

His eyes draw to mine as we stand closely, but he is pulled from under my spell by a female calling his name.

“Toby, we’re heading out, are you coming?” It’s her.

He drops his hands and steps back from me as he turns to her. He looks back at me for a few seconds before giving his answer. “Nah,” he shouts. His eyes don’t leave me. “I’m going to head home.”

We walk back to his truck in silence and get in. He doesn’t speak the whole way home, and it’s more awkward than the journey here as we sit and pretend we’re listening to the music.

My thoughts drown out any music blasting from his stereo and it becomes a distant sound in the background.

When he pulls up outside Frankie’s, I get out in silence. The stillness of the night surrounds me, and he nods his head before shooting off up the dirt track.