Page 36 of Myself

“You will after I quit answering her calls, and she starts coming to you wondering why I hit it and quit it.” I shrug. “That’s all I wanted anyway.”

He tilts his head to the side and frowns. “Yeah, I don’t wanna have to deal with that shit.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

BECCA

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I sit on the countertop, eating pickles out of a jar when the front door to our apartment swings open. Ashlyn strolls in, her hair a little damp from the rain, humming to herself. “Wow! The date must have gone well,” I say.

She spins around to face me. “What are you doing?” she asks, laughing, and I can’t help but smile at how happy she looks. I’ve never seen Ashlyn in love. It suits her. Her blue eyes shine. Her smile big and she seems to be glowing. Of course, it could be the rain that covers her bare legs and arms. “Thought you were meeting your mother?”

The smile drops off my face, and I shrug. “It ended quicker than I thought.”

“Wanna talk about it?” she asks.

“Not really,” I say honestly. “I’m just gonna sit up here eating pickles.”

She walks over to me and takes the jar from me. “Are you pregnant?”

I choke on the pickle, and she jumps away to keep a piece from hitting her face. “God, no!” I squeak, and worry comes over me. Jaycent and I just had sex for the first time last night in four years, and we didn’t use protection. Could I be pregnant? I take my birth control religiously, but it’s not one hundred percent effective. I’m not, but still, the idea scares me. I’m not ready for a kid. I need to remind him to use a condom next time.

“If you were, whose would it be?” she asks, and I cough. “I mean my money’s on Jaycent, but I would like an insider’s opinion.”

“Stop!” I say, laughing. I knew I wouldn’t be able to get anything by her. Ryder is a different story. He is too into her, but Ashlyn sees everything.

“I know you’re sleeping with him,” she states. “I can see it all over your face.”

My laughter dies, and I look down at my pickle. I’m not ready for everyone to know about me and Jaycent. “You know I wouldn’t tell, Ryder, right? You can trust me,” she adds when I don’t speak.

I nod once, pushing a few strands of brown hair behind my ear. “We had sex...” I pause. “Once.” Not a total lie. We had it once four years ago and once again last night.

She frowns and places the pickle back in the jar. “Since we’ve been back here?”

I shake my head, hating that I’m going to lie to her. But this is how it needs to be right now. I’d hate for her to slip and tell Ryder. “It was a long time ago.” I pretend to count on my fingers as if I don’t know the exact date I slept with him. “Four years ago.”

“When you were in high school?”

“I had just graduated.” I reach out and grab her. “You have to keep this just between us. Please?” I let out a deep breath and try to think of what I can and can’t tell her about that night we shared together.

You know when you’ve had too much to drink? The room starts to sway, and your lips go numb. You are constantly feeling them with your fingers or running your tongue over them to make sure they haven’t fallen off? Well, I’m there.

Conner brought me to this graduation party and then left me when I caught him smoking weed in the back room. He was shotgunning it, whatever the fuck that meant. All I saw was his lips on another girl’s, and I yanked them apart. He stood, yelled at me, and then stormed out. Left me here with no keys or car. Not like I could drive anyway.

I trip over my own feet and fall into a wall. I giggle uncontrollably as the room spins, and a woman comes to stand in front of me. Normally, I would tell her to back up and give me some space, but she offers her hand as she giggles herself, and I accept it.

We both go crashing to the floor. “Arrrre youuu okaaay?” she slurs.

I roll onto my back and look up at the expensive crown molding on the ceiling of the mansion I’m lying in. “Perfect,” I say, making us both laugh.

A man who I remember being in the room with Conner when I caught him smoking grabs our hands and yanks us to stand. His force alone almost has me tumbling forward, but we manage to stay up, and he continues to walk down the hall we were occupying.

“Kasie,” she says, holding out her hand to me.

I shake it. “Becca.”

She throws her arm over my shoulder and leans into me. I have to place my left hand on the wall to keep us both up. “Well, Becca. What do you say about some drinks?”

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