Against the Wall (21 page)

“
Excuse me one second,” I say, slipping out of the booth.

I charge to the bathroom and fling open the door. Setting my bag on the sink, I dig around for my cell and yank it open.

HONEY BLONDE! He ordrd me a HONEY BLONDE! Cld thr b a weaker beer! R U FUCKING w/ me? Risk, my ass! u knw this wldnt work. Now get me out of it!

I snap the cell shut, and stare at my reflection in the mirror. What have I gotten myself into? Poor Jackson. I need to find him a woman. Someone who prefers weak ass beer.

I don’t wait for Matty to text back. I’m going to kick his ass when I see him.

I weave through the crowds and back to Jackson.

“
Sorry about that,” I tell him. “Now, where were we?”

“
I already got started on the dip. It’s delicious. You should try it.”

Anything that will get me out of small talk. I take a chip and scoop up some cheesy spinach. The server comes by to check on us again. “How we doing here? Can I get you anything? Refill for you?” She gestures to Jackson.

I notice his beer is drained. I push my completely full pint toward him. “How about you take mine.” I turn to the server, “Can I get a the darkest beer you have?” I smile. “Thanks.”

“
So,” Jackson begins, “You’re a teacher. How do you like it?”

“
I love it actually. It never gets old, that’s for sure. Every year is a new beginning with a new set of kids. Come to think of it, each period is a new beginning. Each class is just so different. It’s like Forest Gump.”

He gulps some of his brew. “How so?”

“
You know, box of chocolates … yada yada.” I stuff my mouth with spinach dip.

“
Got it,” he says, with a light chuckle. He’d be so cute if he didn’t have that nasty beer in his hands. May as well be a wine cooler. I should give him Jacob’s number.

The server brings over my beer and I almost hug her. Instead, I just say, “Thank you,” and take the glass from her hand before it even makes it to the table. I take a swig and my belly gets warm with happiness.

“
So what do you do, Jackson?” I ask.

“
I’m an attorney,” he says. “Corporate law. I wanted to get into engineering, but after awhile, it seemed a bit monotonous. I liked being on the debate team in high school, so law became the next obvious choice.”

“
Cool,” I tell him. “Mel’s ex-husband is a lawyer. He cheated on her with another lawyer at his firm and now they’re getting married.”

“
Wow.” He takes another drink of his beer, draining the second one. This guy drinks more than I do.

“
You’re not sleeping with any married partners are you?” I ask, trying to make a joke. “Holy shit.”

“
What? What’s wrong?” Jackson asks, concerned.

“
Speak of the asshole. That’s Nick. Mel’s ex.”

He looks around as if Nick is going to have a tattoo on his forehead that says
I’m the asshole prick who cheated on my wife
.

“
I haven’t seen him in a long time. He didn’t even notice me,” I explain.

Jackson starts to scoot out of the booth. “My turn. I’ll be right back.”

I stare at Nick until he meets my glare. If only he could read minds.
Mother fucker!

Oh shit. He’s coming over.

“
Hi, Shelly,” he says. “I know you probably don’t want to talk to me, but I just wanted to say hello.”

“
You’re right, I don’t want to talk to you,” I sneer. I lean to get a look at the female sitting with him. “So is that the bimbo you’re gonna marry?”

“
Well, enjoy your date,” he says, ignoring my dig, and turns to walk away.

It’s like a light bulb flips on. “Wait.” He turns back around. “I need you to do something for me.” His face contorts giving me a look like I have crap smeared all over my face. “You owe it to me for all the shit I’ve had to deal with. I need to get out of here. So when the guy comes back, I need you to come over and say something to get me to leave.” He rolls his eyes at me, and I slam my hand on the table. “Just do it!”

He struts away. Fucker.

The server and Jackson return at the same time. “Are you ready to order?” she asks.

“
Can you give us just a few more minutes? I haven’t looked at the menu.” I won’t feel so bad when I suddenly get sick and need to leave, if we haven’t ordered yet. But once we do, I’m in this. Stuck.

Jackson takes his menu too and we both sit in silence.

“
Excuse me, Shelly.” I look up and Nick is standing there. God Bless him. He’s still an asshole, but he’s here. “I’m sorry to interrupt your dinner. I need to ask you a favor.”

I introduce Jackson and Nick continues. “I just talked to Melissa and she’s not doing too well. I thought you were with her and she’d be okay, but you’re here. So I thought maybe you could go check on her.”

“
Now
,” I say, trying to sound offended.

“
Yes, now. I’m pretty sure she needs you.” He doesn’t say anything else. He goes back to his table and pretends he’s not a total dick. Good deed or not, he’s still the biggest loser I know.

“
I’m sorry, Jackson. I gotta go,” I tell him, rushing to stand. “I’m all Mel has now, so I have to see what’s going on.”

“
I understand. I hope everything is alright,” he says.

“
I’ll see you,” I mumble, as I practically run out.

I think I hear him say, “Call me.”

When I get on the road, I make two calls.

First, I call Mel.

“
Guess who just got me out of my date?” I ask, when she picks up.

“
Who?”

I explain my horror story with Jackson and Honey Blondes, and then go on to tell her about how I told Nick he owed me.

“
It’s about time that shithead is good for something,” she says, and we both laugh.

“
By the way, I can’t believe that woman. She looks like he pulled her out of a JC Penney catalog. Could she be more plain?” I tell her, hoping to make her happy.

“
I know right,” she replies with a giggle.

“
You were too much sizzle for him. He can only handle the mild sauce,” I tease.

“
Uh huh,” she agrees. “If you can’t stand the heat, get the fuck out the kitchen.”

“
Amen,” I say. “One more thing, Mel.”

“
What happened?” she asks anxiously.

“
He got fat,” I squeal.

“
Yes!” she yells.

We both start busting up until I’m gasping for breath and Mel is snorting.

And then, I call Matty.

He answers in a playful tone, “Are you on your way to Vegas yet?”

It’s New Year’s Eve and I’m not so sure I want to go out with Matty tonight after the crap he pulled yesterday. He had a great time, along with Mel and Tyler, talking crap about how I may have missed out on a real hunk of a man just because of his piss poor choice in beer. I could have choked him.

But who am I kidding? Of course, I want to go out with him tonight.

We convinced Ty to stay till the end of break, so he’ll be joining us for the festivities this evening too, which happens to be a work party. Matty and I haven’t gone anywhere together publically, where people know who we are. This should be interesting and is sure to create a lot of gossip among our colleagues. Or maybe not. It’s not like we’re going to walk in holding hands and make out in a corner or something. Maybe people will assume we’re just friends like we’ve always been.

And it’s not like we RSVP’d together, as a couple. Mel actually responded for all of us.

Oh well, who cares? We’re just going to go. The four of us. And have a good time. Shit, I totally over think all this stuff
all
the time.

Chase is going to be there. He hasn’t invaded my thoughts all vacation, and now …

Forget it. I’m not going to say anymore.

“
Oh my, you guys look frickin’ adorable!” I say to Tyler and Mel, when we arrive at her place to pick them up.

“
That’s not really the look we were going for,” Tyler shrugs. “But we’ll take it.” He throws his arm around Mel’s neck and hooks her in for a kiss.

“
Oh, even more adorable,” I squeal. Matty makes gagging sounds at my comments. We all let out a quick chuckle.

When you go to a Pajama Party, there’re really only two ways to go. 1) Slutty or 2) Cozy. I always opt for cozy. There’s no way I’m going to go to a party with a bunch of co-workers looking like a prostitute. Plus, we always end up drinking way beyond tipsy and acting ridiculous. I’d rather risk acting like a fool in comfortable clothing where my tits aren’t hanging out. So I’m wearing my typical PJs—cropped jammy pants and a tank. Matty’s wearing one of his college tees and some Family Guy boxers, with some boxer briefs underneath—I checked. I don’t want his junk hanging out there for the world to see.

Tyler and Mel really do look cute. He’s wearing plaid flannel pajama pants—the ones my mom gave him for Christmas—with a wife beater. She’s wearing the coordinating plaid pajama top, which is too long for her but she has some little booty shorts on underneath. They’re matching for crying out loud. What a great idea. I wish I would’ve thought of it. But then again, I doubt I would have asked Matty to wear similar outfits to a work party.

Like always, we’re late. Parking ten houses down and across the street is evidence of that. I think we got lucky with a spot not too far away. Someone must have left and we snagged it before they could get back, because familiar cars line the road even further from us. This party is going to be huge.

The party is mostly filled with my English department colleagues. Teaching English can really facilitate the need to party. Reading paper after paper written by kids in high school who still can’t decipher when to use to, too, and two or who still don’t know A LOT is two words is a joke. Couple that with this insane era of technology and the need for students to write like they’re sending a text message or updating their Twitter status can really drive a person to drink. Heavily. Hence, my well-stocked refrigerator full of beer.

Maybe one day, I’ll just have a keg and a beer tap installed in my kitchen. I can totally picture it. A tap right next to the sink. Or a button on the fridge dispenser: Ice, Cold Water, or Heffeweizen. Imagine it. I should patent that shit before someone steals my idea.

As we walk around and say hello, I notice there’re a few people from each of the other departments sprinkled in. Mostly people my age, but some of the oldie but goodies came. The ones that can hang. Actually, some of the oldies can party harder and longer than the rest of us.

Matty and Tyler veer off from us to get drinks. Mel and I take a seat outside with some friends.

“
Hey ladies,” we all seem to say in unison. They stand up, and hugs all around.

Before our asses hit our chairs, Margo asks, “So Mel, who’s the hot guy who was all over you when you walked in?” Here we go.

“
He
is
pretty fucking hot, huh,” Mel begins. My smile fades, and I roll my eyes. This is my big brother she’s talking about. “His name is Tyler and I got him for Christmas.” I grin. She’s funny, even if she is talking about my own flesh and blood. I’d probably do the same.

“
Damn, I need to have a talk with Santa,” Jessica says. “All I got was a new cardigan. I hope you’re enjoying your present.”

“
Oh, I am,” Mel responds, fluttering her brows. “I’ve enjoyed him quite a few times actually.”

The girls fling their heads back with howls.

“
Okay, enough,” I shout, throwing my hands up.

“
What’s wrong Shelly? Santa didn’t bring you a man for Christmas?” Jessica says, pouting her face.