Page 128 of Talk Nerdy To Me
“You called my fucking mother because I broke up with Britt? You have no right,” I tell her incredulously. “Do you see what you’re all fucking doing to her?” I ask a little louder.
Her lips thin and she steps forward, causing me to step back as she shuts the door behind her and pulls out her phone. I’m almost worried she’s calling the cops just because I’m pissed.
She holds up her phone, and my face slowly falls as I see a video of us inside that fashion place’s office where we met with that stupid douche last night.
“My friend Bo owns that place,” she goes on, fast forwarding the video to where I really lost my temper and acted like a pathetic kid throwing a tantrum, raking office shit off some woman’s desk who doesn’t even bat an eye in the video.
“She’s not scared because she’s seen Vince have a tantrum or two, in case you’re wondering. I noticed you didn’t seem to care if you scared her or not. You never even glanced at her,” she carries on as my jaw tightens more.
“Three hours of intense arguing and him belittling us every single second of it was—”
“Something he was entitled to do, because he’s paid his dues and deals with a man like Vince Jaggons day in and day out. You’re nobody to him. Just like this woman here is nobody to you.”
She fast forwards again, and it stops at the front desk when security is wrangling me out the door. Then you see Sticks kick the damn glass, sending huge cracks all over it before he kicks it again and again.
I bristle, looking away as I slowly nod, getting the point.
“You’re only not in handcuffs because Bo knows you’re not usually violent guys. She knows you wouldn’t hurt any of her staff, just as her staff also fortunately knew. She’s lived her life around passionate, intense, temperamental artists, and compared to some of the tantrums she’s seen, this was just sad and laughable to her. You can pay me back for the damages whenever you can,” she continues.
I clear my throat as I take another step back, and another.
“Yeah,” I say a little quieter. “Sorry.”
“I thought Honey Bee could help out. Yes, I brought up the split-decision breakup with Britt, since you went to see her directly after this…while you were still so worked up and defensive and ready to take it out on anyone close by. Not Britt, but possibly her family—the ones you actively avoid and publicly talk shit about. Those good people who never say anything negative about you and ignore what they hear, passing it off as possible bullshit. Bullshit rolls right off them, because they deal with it day in and day out from plenty of other people already. They’ve taught Britt the tools of dealing with the same bullshit, in case you’re wondering. Dane started the ‘favor’ system to teach her how to ask for help, for fuck’s sake, Base. She needs a minute sometimes, because she’s different.”
She tilts her head, eyes glistening just barely. I want to put my head in the sand right now. Literally.
I swallow thickly, not speaking.
“They’re not even upset at you for not showing up on an important night like last night—a night when her Sterling name went on a massive check that’s guaranteed to give so many graduating foster children a new goal. A new scholarship program specifically designed for them, Base. This is something dear to her, because she doesn’t feel like she’s the only one who deserves to be saved.”
My eyes flutter shut, and I hold back my own groan.
“You didn’t even ask what event it was, did you?” she asks, already knowing the answer. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have told her that black-tie events just aren’t your thing.”
When I shove both my hands in my pockets, just staring at nothing in particular, she releases a tired breath.
“You didn’t say anything to Tag, I’m guessing, based on the conversation I had with him.”
“Of course not. He’d feel responsible and take all the blame, because that’s the amazing guy he is. I called your mom because I know you’re actually a good guy, Base. Just as you said, I have no right to act like I know you well enough to say anything to you.”
I snort, even though it’s a weak attempt at being petulant at this point.
“Let me guess. You look at me and see Tag, and you want me to live up to his potential,” I say tightly, rolling my eyes.
Never pegged her for the meddling saint type.
“Absolutely not. Tag’s heart is twice the size of yours, and he worked damn hard to keep it guarded because it breaks twice as hard too,” she states a little sourly as she arches a condescending eyebrow at me. “He broke his own shit when he was pissed. Not someone else’s,” she adds with a small smile.
She takes a step toward me, putting her phone away.
“I don’t look at you and see Tag. I look at you and I see me. And I’m trying to get out in front of the dominoes before they fall all the way down, because that’s when you start hurting the people around you just because you’re working so hard to defend your actions. You reassure yourself that you’re awesome, because you’re really insecure and trying to make it sound as though you’re as confident as the world expects you to be. Otherwise you’re weak and pathetic. I know this song and dance. It’s not a crime to be young and naïve. It makes you normal. And it’s typical to think you’re right. About everything in life. It’ll take years before you realize how stupid you really are. I don’t want you to burn people who don’t deserve to be burned, because I know you’ll spend a long time regretting it.”
She puts her hand on my shoulder, patting it once.
“Sorry I called your mom on you like you’re all a bunch of kids or something. To be fair, I panicked when I saw that video.”
She turns and walks back toward the door, hesitating when her hand is hovering over the doorknob.
