More Than This(3)

*Jake*





Fuck, Logan can be an asshole sometimes.

I’m in the bathroom doing everything I can to save this beer stained shirt that’s clinging to my body. There’s nothing I can do about it, it’s dunzo.

I take off my tux jacket and start undoing the buttons of the shirt, hoping the tank I have on underneath will be okay. I’ll have to run home and grab a new shirt. Luckily, Mom is always prepared for this kind of stuff and has a spare ready to go.

I can’t believe Logan did that, and all to get that girl’s attention. I mean, I get it, I noticed her the minute she walked in the door, smiling up at the kid who’s hand she was holding. She walked in with another guy, you’d think that was enough of a sign to call the game off. But not for Logan. The minute her boyfriend, or whatever, left her side it was game on. I followed him for a laugh, I wasn’t supposed to end up here.

I roll my eyes at myself in the mirror. I’m gonna look like an ultra douche walking out in suit pants and a wife beater. Fuck Logan.

I open the door and stop in my tracks when I see her, but it’s not the same girl that walked in. Her eyes are brimming with unshed tears and she’s fuming. I’ve only opened the door enough so I can just see her, I haven’t stepped into the hallway yet. She’s staring daggers into something, or someone. I take a tentative step forward and see her glaring at a couple standing in front of the women’s restroom. It’s like the couple are frozen in time, the blond girl’s hair is messed up and her dress is all twisted, her hands are on the guy’s face. I can’t see him properly. His back is to me. I can however, see that his hands are adjusting himself. It’s obvious this couple just screwed in the bathroom. At least their prom will be memorable.

I almost turn to leave when I hear her strained voice. “How long?” she says, her tone flat.

What? The guy turns to face her and it’s then I realize who this asshole is. It’s her boyfriend, I assume. Well, it’s the dick she walked in with.

“How long?” she asks again, a little louder, but still the same even tone.

“Baby…” asshole says reaching out for her.

“Two years,” the blond says, at the same time.

Fuck.

I look over at the cute brunette and wait for a reaction.

I feel like I should leave, like what I’m witnessing is too intimate, too personal. But my feet are locked to the floor. I have no idea why, but I can’t look away. I can’t walk away. I want to punch this asshole square in the face. If for nothing else but causing the pained look on this girl’s face. No way anyone deserves to be treated like that, especially this girl. I feel the need to protect her. I don’t even know her.

Two fucking years, what the hell?

Asshole steps forward so his back is to the blond. The blond glares at the back of his head. “Baby…” he says. I ball my fists. “I love you, Mikayla.”

What?

“WHAT?!” both girls yell.

Asshole and the brunette both turn to the blond, “Shut up, Megan!” they yell in unison.

“Megan,” the brunette says, taking a deep breath. “You’re my best friend. What the fuck?” Tears start streaming down her face.

Megan looks at her, then at the asshole, “I’m sorry, Mick,” she shrugs. But she’s not sorry, not even a little. She walks away, brushing past me.

I still haven’t said a word. I still haven’t moved an inch.

Mikayla and this asshole are staring at each other. Neither know I’m standing here like a creeper.

“Jesus, James,” Mikayla whispers, her voice shaky now. “I’ve been with you for four fucking years. And half that time you’ve been screwing my best friend!” her voice gets louder with every word.

There’s silence as he wipes a tear from his face. Why the fuck is he crying?

“Why the fuck are you crying?” she says forcefully. He flinches. Exactly Mikayla, I think to myself.

“For four years I never so much as looked at another guy. I was loyal to you when you weren’t even around, when you wouldn’t have even known, because that’s how much I loved you.” She’s in his face now, her words clear as day. She’s beyond the broken girl she started as, and now she’s just plain pissed.

“Were there any others?”

“NO! I swear it.”

Silence. The only sound is their heavy breathing.

“Why her?”

“C’mon, Micky. You don’t wanna know this shit. Let’s just go to prom and have a good time, okay?” He has an accent, Texas, I think.

“Why her?” she asks again.

He sighs, defeated, “The first time was when we had that away game a couple years back, where we stayed overnight to support the cheerleaders at some tournament they were doing the next day.”