Of all the freaking nerve! “Why the hell would you do that? It’s not like you couldn’t just buy a ticket with your pocket change. Was it just to mess with me? That’s over the top, even for you.”
Gavin’s eyes flash and he leans in so close that our noses almost touch. “You think so? Let me ask you something, then. What’s Paul’s girlfriend’s name?” His eyes look huge, filling my vision. Dark and stormy, they draw me in.
“That’s a stupid question.” I say it real slow. “Angie. Do you want me to spell it for you?”
He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “No, the other one.”
“What other one?”
“Violet.” He sneers, one side of his lip lifting in a grimace like he just stepped in something.
What the hell? Who’s Violet? “Who?”
“You know, his girlfriend. The one he was fucking when I came looking for him. Her name was Violet. Real pretty. Huge fucking tits. They jiggled back and forth so hard while he laid into her I thought she was gonna smack herself in the face.”
I want to believe he’s joking, but his face is like stone, dead serious. “I don’t believe you.” Unfortunately, I do, but I don’t want to. I refuse to. “And wait, they were fucking? Did you break into their bedroom or something? How batshit crazy are you?”
“Hey, I rang the fucking doorbell. Not my fault she screamed come in. Or maybe it was I’m coming, now that I think about it. They were coked out of their minds, either way.”
“What?”
“Did he ever offer to share? It’s the least he could do when you share him with Violet, and who the fuck knows who else.”
“Coke? Like—” He can’t possibly be saying what I think he is.
“White powder. Usually you snort it off a mirror. Fucks you up. Disgusting shit.”
“He doesn’t do—” I said I wanted honest, but I didn’t want this. This is too much.
“Of course not. It was probably just Violet’s and he had to hold it for her.” He leans back with a shrug, but his face shows what he really thinks.
“I see.” I don’t know what to say, or think. Paul wouldn’t do something like that. Sure, he’s rough around the edges, but drugs? Other women? I’m the only one he wants, right? He said so. And Gavin would totally say stuff like this just to get a rise out of me.
Emotion bubbles up, lumping up in my throat. I was going to let Paul be my first. That’s why I ran away from Gavin in the first place. Why I couldn’t do it. What a hypocrite I am. I was this close to having sex with Gavin. Is that much better?
I’m getting angry. I can feel it, but I don’t know who to aim it at. Paul, myself, Gavin? Is he telling the truth, or is this just another try at manipulating me? With a glare, I snap, “I don’t believe you.”
“Call him.” He’s dead calm.
“Alright.” Yeah. I’ll call his bluff. “I will.” Pulling out my phone, I tap Paul’s name. His icon is a little red heart, which makes me wince. Gavin’s lying. I know he is.
I know he isn’t.
The phone rings forever. Come on, pick up. I know you’re there, Paul. It just keeps ringing. Maybe he’s busy. This is stupid. What am I even going to say? Meanwhile, Gavin swirls the liquid in his glass, making no sign of backing down.
I’m just about to hang up when there’s an answer. “Hello?” The voice is unclear, slow and decidedly female.
“Who’s this?” Not the most polite way to start a phone call, but I’m past polite.
“It’s Violet. Duh. Who’re you?”
“Duh. Angie. Paul’s girlfriend.” I leave the, “you bitch,” unsaid. For now.
Her voice is muffled as she screams to someone else in the room. “There’s some bitch on the phone saying she’s your girlfriend. You wanna explain that shit?” There’s a mumbled reply that I can’t make out, and then she’s back on the line, her voice so caustic I’m surprised it doesn’t melt my ear right off. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but stay the fuck away from Paul.” I don’t think she spits, but it wouldn’t surprise me. The last thing I hear before the line goes dead is, “Crazy-ass bitch.”
I almost throw my phone across the bar. The tears come before I can stop them. I don’t know if I’m sad or just angry. Probably both, or maybe there’s just a limit to how much anyone can be expected to take in a twenty-four hour period and I just passed it. Resting my arms on my elbows and my face in my hands, I sob right there at the table. Crap, I don’t want to do this in public.