Page 148 of Trying Sophie

“Sure you are. That’s why I’m hosing puke off your shower walls at two in the afternoon.” Putting the nozzle back on its handle, he took a step back and dried his hands and arms. Leveling a glare at me, he said, “You missed practice today Dec and you’re drunk all the time. And Mick told me what happened at The Dodder the other night. You’re not fine.”

I hung my head and closed my eyes. He was right. I was so far past fine it wasn’t even funny. I couldn’t remember what fine looked like it was so far in my rearview mirror. The truth was, I was a fucking mess.

“You’re right,” I admitted with a defeated sigh. “I’m not fine.”

“Sophie?” he asked.

Turning off the water, I reached for my towel. “Yeah, Sophie.”

“What the fuck happened there? One minute things are right as fucking rain and you’re deliriously in love with the bird, and the next you’re storming out of my party bellowing for her at the top of your lungs.”

“Maggie happened.”

“Maggie?” He looked confused for a second. Then, “Ugh, you didn’t.”

I clenched my jaw. “No, I didn’t, and I really wish people would give me some fucking credit.”

“Come on Dec, you’ve gone there before. You can’t act all self-righteous when people wonder if you tapped that again.”

“When have I ever gone back for seconds?” I shot out angrily.

“Um, with Maggie,” he pointed out with a smirk.

“Fuck,” I muttered. “Yeah. Fucking Maggie.”

“So what happened?” he asked, taking a seat on the closed toilet seat while I brushed my teeth.

Spitting out my toothpaste, I said, “When I went on that beer run for you, Maggie approached Sophie.”

“I thought Sophie knew you were a whore before she came along and was okay with it? Which, by the way, well done. You’ll have to teach me how you managed that one.”

I laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Yes, Sophie knew all about my past. And despite the fact that I’d put those days behind me, it was one of the things that stood between us. But not enough that she would have broken things off with me just by meeting Maggie.”

“I have a feeling this story doesn’t end well.”

“Look at me man,” I barked, pointing at my face. Deep, dark circles rimmed my red, irritated eyes and my skin was sallow, my face ragged. “Nothing about this story ends well.”

Ignoring my appearance, he asked, “So why did Sophie flip out?”

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. Opening my medicine cabinet, I pulled out a bottle of pain relievers and popped two.

“Maggie told Sophie I slept with her three days after I first slept with Sophie. As in, last month. As in, I cheated on Sophie with that slag.”

“Ah,” he intoned. “Wait, why didn’t you just tell Sophie you didn’t?”

“I tried to,” I told him. “She wouldn’t take my calls or see me. The only way I could reach her was by text. I didn’t realize it at the time, but something got lost in translation when I tried to explain what happened and she thought I admitted to it.”

“How the hell did that happen?” he asked, handing me my deodorant.

“She asked me point blank if I’d slept with Maggie and I told the truth. But I also said it had been a long time ago.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“I think our texts crossed paths or something because if you read the exchange, it sounds an awful like I back-peddled and went from denying it happened to saying it didn’t mean anything to me.”

“Ah, fuck,” he muttered.

“Yup, that about sums it up.”

---