Page 2 of Love Bleeds Red
I think I’m approaching that breaking point.
“You’re sorry? You weren’t sorry when she sent you those nudes, were you?” Layne paces our tiny dorm room, her side a wreck of everything she’s abandoned mid-crisis. A mixture of half-eaten meals, inside out clothes, and textbooks she’s ignored for weeks, while I try my hardest to tune her out. “Don’t you dare,” she continues into her screen. Full volume speakerphone, of course. “No! You want to play like that? I’ll show up at her job and make her wish she wasn’t born!”
Our episode ofSnappedmight be a double feature if I don’t intervene.
I toss my phone to the side and get up from my bed, closing the distance between us. She barely notices I’m beside her until I lay a gentle palm on her shoulder. “Hey,” I say in my most soothing whisper. “Just hang up. He’s an asshole.”
“Who’s that?” Clay asks, even though, to my dismay, he’s seen me every day this month.
Layne scoffs and points the phone in my direction. “It’s Bailey, dumbass. Who else would it be?”
“How am I supposed to know? I’m not there.”
I rub my temple, willing the forming headache to go away. I ran out of Advil and it just started raining. It would take a migraine of epic proportions to get me to leave my room and walk to the pharmacy tonight.
I don’t bother whispering this time. “Hang up. He’s not worth it.”
“Bailey says I should hang up on your sorry ass,” she repeats, her face getting progressively more red.
“Baby, please. I promise nothing happened. Let me come over there.”
I shake my head, mouthing the word no, and make the universal slashing my neck signal with my hand. It’s like one of those TV moments where the dog has to choose which owner he likes best. Will it be me or Clay?
Layne looks at me with wide eyes. Then she looks back at Clay, her expression softening as he begs and pleads. Then up at me again. I hold my breath, waiting on her to say something… anything.
Choose me. Hang up.
I’m practically chanting the words in my head.
“Bye, Clay,” Layne finally says before she hits the end call button. I sag in relief and blow out a stream of air.
“Yes, girl,” I say, squeezing her shoulder. “You don’t need him. Let him stay home tonight and stew.”
Silently, I’m thanking the universe for throwing me a bone. No Clay means maybe I can get Layne to relax, eat junk food, and watch a movie… without having to hear the two of them making out ormoreon her side of the room.
“You’re right. It’s just so hard. Why am I, like, programmed to accept his lying bullshit? Do you think it’s from childhood? My dad was kind of a dick to my mom.” She shoves a box out of the way with her bare foot and flops onto her unmade bed.
I haven’t started my psych classes yet and even if I did, she’d need someone much more experienced than me to analyze her.
“Maybe,” I say with a shrug. “I’m proud of you though. I know it’s hard to say no to him.”
She groans and grabs her pillow, clutching it to her chest. “Why does he have to be so hot? He looks at me with that stupid face and I want to forgive everything he’s ever done.”
Clay? Hot?He’s not my type.
“Let’s watch a movie and order some pizza,” I say, hoping to distract her. She rolls over and grabs her phone, tapping it to life. Her eyes gleam with that guilty look she gets when I catch her eating my last cheese stick. “No!”
I jump up and grab her phone. “Bitch, give it back. I wasn’t going to call him.”
“Layne Hailey Parks, you’re such a liar!” She reaches for it, but I straddle her and hold my hand up high.
“Get off,” she squeals, trying to buck me off. “I promise I won’t call him.”
I narrow my eyes. “Swear on something important.” She wiggles under me again. “You know I have an older brother who I wrestled all the time, right? I can do this all day.”
Finally, she goes limp. “Fine, I swear on my dead grandma that I won’t call him back.”
I lower the phone a few inches. “And…”
