Page 120 of Trigger

I was collecting the broken glass from the living room floor whenVicky had a fit of her own.

“What has gotten into you?” I heard her yelling at Carter.“Hitting people like a common ruffian? Engaging in drunken brawls? Embarrassingme like this? And you…” When she fixed me with an icy stare, I paused inwhatever I was doing.

“It’s all your fault, isn’t it?”

I blinked in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, cut the bullshit, Tye,” Vic said, rolling her eyes. “You’realways here… lurking about. Scheming. You want something, and I can feel it.Other than that, you’re nothing but a bad influence.”

She was perceptive. I had to give her that.

“Vic, stop,” Carter said with a sigh. “This is all my fault. Tyehad nothing to do with it.”

Vic laughed, looking around the room. “And the rest of them… theseare the people you socialize with. Bullies… losers… not to mention thatred-haired, duplicitous drunk.”

“Vic!” Carter exclaimed, but it was too late. At that moment,Shelly stepped out of the bathroom. Her eyes zeroed in on Vicky, narrowing intodangerous little slits. “What did you call me?”

I jumped in front of Shelly and pulled her into a bear hug—of arestraining kind. It didn’t stop her from kicking and screaming, though.

“What the fuck did you call me, you obnoxious, rich bimbo? Ifsomeone is duplicitous, it’s you, you vile, hateful, despicable… slut!”

“How dare you?” Vicky gasped in outrage. “Who are you calling aslut, you inebriated, disgusting…”

“Enough!” Carter shouted. “Not one more word, Vic.”

She looked at him as if he had grown another head.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No. You’re being rude to my friends, and I won’t have it.”

“Your friends?” Vicky yelled with tears streaming down her face.“Oh, that’s rich. You know what? I have had it with you, Carter! You are notthe man I thought you were, not by a long shot. In fact, you and your bunch ofcreeps deserve each other. Screw you all!”

I didn’t hear his answer, but the door slamming on her way outtold me she didn’t like it.

So that was that. A shitty end to an already shitty evening. I wastired, heartbroken, drunk, and horny, not necessarily in that order. I cleanedup the hall that looked as if it had been ravaged by a tornado while Carter putShelly to bed.

“She cheated on you.” I heard Shelly say to him in a drunken slur.“Vicky cheated on you when she was in Sweden… Swizland… wherever she was.”

“Shh,” Carter shushed her, not sounding surprised. “It’s okay.Just lie down and breathe deep.”

“I didn’t want to tell you, Carter,” Shelly continued, hiccupping.“Because I love… I love you, you know? And because… it’s… where are my socks?She and this rich guy… a tennis player or some shit… and it makes me sick…because she doesn’t deserve you, Carter.”

You deserve someone who deserves you.

I left then, reluctant to hear more. Why were we all hurting?Shelly, Carter, me? Was there anything left in this world but pain?

After I took out the trash, I came back to a silent apartment,except for Shelly’s snoring. I opened the bathroom door, only to stop in mytracks when I saw Carter. His shirt was torn, probably from wrestling withAdam, revealing his tattooed chest. He had a bloody cotton ball stuck in onenostril, and a big, purple bruise graced his otherwise perfect cheek.

When his jungle greens met my gaze in the mirror, I realized I wasstaring.

“Sorry,” I muttered, turning to leave. “I didn’t know you werestill here.”

“No, stay,” he said, taking the cotton ball out of his nose. “I’mdone here, anyway.”

Avoiding his eyes, I walked up to the sink, observing myreflection in the mirror. It wasn’t that bad. My right eye was swollen, butnothing I couldn’t live with. The same could be said for a gash on my foreheadthat didn’t look all that bad if you ignored a piece of glass sticking out ofit.

“Jesus!” Carter exclaimed, approaching me. “You can’t walk aroundlike that. Do you want to bleed out?”

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