Page 4 of Space Junk: Houston, We Have a Hottie
“I’m sorry?” She looks at me a bit blankly.
“Space. My friend. Jules. She’s in space. Outer space.” Trish keeps staring, but now her eyebrows are in the middle of her forehead. God, I suck at small talk. I take a breath, willing myself not to stiffen up and start again. “Jules is an astronaut at NASA. She’s currently up on the International Space Station.”
Trish looks a little dumbfounded at this, but recovers quickly. “Well, hot damn. That’s the best excuse I’ve ever heard for letting your girl out without a wingwoman.” She looks over her shoulder at the growing crowd. “I’ve got to go make the rounds, but I’ll be back with that Coke and you can explain Operation Social Life to me in more detail.” Her smile is large and bright when she says, “I have a feeling you’re gonna be the most interesting customer of the night.” With a wink, Trish saunters off to her tables.
My eyes drift back over to the birthday girl’s section, but holy crap-o-la is gone.
* * *
Flynn
I feel dirty.
And coming from a mechanic, that means something.
All of Rose’s friends are knocking back shots, ordering rounds and preening like a bunch of peacocks in their designer duds in a Western saloon. Like the swarm of cowboy boots really care how much their six-inch heels or Italian loafers cost.
What makes me feel even worse? I used to be just like them.
A few high-rolling twenty-year-olds amble off to the dance floor. I stop one as she stumbles past.
I look down at the blonde in charge of Rose’s birthday gathering. “Pam.” She blinks a few times, like she’s having trouble focusing. “I thought you were the designated driver?”
She wavers on her feet, her head weaving on her shoulders as she looks to my hand around her arm and back to my face. Next thing I know she’s plastered against me, her free hand gliding up my side.
Great. Something else to make me feel dirty.
“It’s okay, big boy. I got us a limo coming in a bit.” She tries to nod toward the dance floor, but her whole body ends up tilting, my arm the only thing holding her up. “Let’s go dance off some booze.” She tries to shimmy against me, but when I let go of her arm she stumbles back into one of the guys in their group. He doesn’t even ask her if she’s okay, just continues flirting with the waitress.
“You go ahead.” Sweating out some of her drinks has got to be better than passing out at the table, which is probably her other option at this point. “I’m heading home in a bit.”
She straightens and runs her hands down her body. “Want some company? Heard you’ve been lonely.”
I scowl in response, but as drunk as she is, Pam doesn’t pick up on it. Instead she tries sidling closer. I step back out of her reach.
She pouts. Like a child. Which I guess is exactly what she is. None of the people in this group ever grew up. They’re too rich and too complacent. And now I’m afraid Rose will become just like them. Same as I did. Frustrated, I shift my gaze beyond the partiers.
“You can’t seriously prefer any of this low-class trash to me?” Pam asks, gesturing to the crowd in general.
Involuntarily, my eyes flick to the dance floor, where the blonde with those thick-framed glasses has been perched all night. I’d caught her glancing over here earlier, and if I hadn’t been so busy comparing my past self to these idiots, I might’ve gone up and said hello.
“I mean, really, Flynn,” Pam continues, following my gaze, “remember who you are, for once.”
That snaps me back to the moment, and the anger that has been simmering all night surfaces. My anger is more aimed at myself, and I’m aware enough to recognize that, but it doesn’t stop me from being pissed at the world in general right now. Especially when I come out to wish my little sister a happy birthday, only to find her friends shit-faced and Rose virtually ignored. The same kind of friends who were decidedly unhelpful after my parents died and then virtually ignored me after one of their own fucked me over. But I guess I owe them a favor. Without that final kick to the balls, I would’ve never grown up.
“I know who I am, Pam, and I like him a hell of a lot better than the spoiled rich kid with no direction in life.”
“Sheesh. Mr. High and Mighty. Beth was right to dump your ass.” An evil smile curls up her face before she continues. “Too bad Holt turned out to be just as boring. Looks like neither of the West brothers are any fun anymore.”
For a moment I think I’m literally seeing red, until I realize that the flashing red lights from the ceiling are simply mirroring my emotions.
Fuck this.
I shrug my shoulders, knowing the worst thing I could do to her, or any of these posers, is not care. “Well, this boring guy is heading home. Alone.” I point my finger directly in her face, uncaring how much of a dick move it is. “You’re supposed to be Rose’s friend, Pam. So sober the fuck up and get my sister home safe.”
I don’t wait for her to respond. Really anything she says at this point will just fuel my anger. I simply side-step her and walk over to the table where Rose has stationed herself.
“Rose?”
