When September Ends (14 page)

Three hours, a bucket of beers, and two shots of Jack on an empty stomach and I’m fucked up. I know this about myself. No one that I know is at the bar, and no one has been. I’ve busied myself watching football, scouting the rest of the bar, and drowning myself in alcohol.

Not good. I know this. I’m not fucking eighteen. I’m thirty fucking one—okay?

I’m just about ready to call it a night. I get up to hit the head and ask the bartender to call a cab for me. I’m drunk and I’m not about to get a DUI and fuck up my life more than it already is.

Just as I’m about to pass through the door to the men’s room, a soft and sexy voice hits my ears.

“Hey, there. Don’t I know you?”

Is that a line?

If it is, I’m thinking it’s more the kind of line that a guy would use, and not a chick. I turn to see who’s voiced it and damn if it
isn’t
someone that looks familiar. Young, pretty. Built like a brick shit-house with pouty lips to boot.

“Jesse?”

“Yeah.”

Smooth. Fucking smooth.

“Don’t you remember me? I’m a friend of September’s.”

Oh fuck. Shit.

“Shayla?” I ask.

“One and the same,” she giggles. I can tell she’s toasted, and I look past her to see who she’s here with. Is September with her? I don’t see her at the table where Shayla has just left.

“Oh, that’s my family,” she explains with a wave of her hand. “We’re here because we’ve been shopping all day and now it’s time to get wasted. Family tradition,” she says, laughing again. I notice how her nose scrunches up when she laughs. It’s really kind of cute.

“So, how have you been?” I ask, “Thought you went to school in North Carolina?”

“Yeah, I do. Winter break.”

“Shit, that’s right,” I reply, laughing. “Well, it’s good to see you, Shayla. Have a good holiday.”

“Are you leaving already?” she asks, giving me a flirty smile.

“Actually, yeah. I had the bartender call a cab. I’m a little drunk and well, shit, I don’t drive drunk.”

“I like that,” she says, her tone serious. “Want me to wait with you?”

“Well, yeah, I guess. I’m hitting the head first.”

“I’ll wait,” she says with a wink.

And sure enough, when I exit the men’s room there she stands waiting and I’ve got a feeling Shayla wants more than a casual conversation from me while we wait for my cab. I settle my tab and grab my jacket from the back of the bar stool.

“Cab’s on the way—be about twenty minutes,” he says, handing me my change. And a Styrofoam cup of hot coffee I hadn’t ordered.

“That’s on me,” he explains.

I slap some bills on the counter, tell him thanks and head outside. Shayla’s on my heels as I locate my truck, sipping the hot black coffee as I go.

We simply stand there in silence for a couple of minutes while I finish my coffee. “Can I get in? It’s cold out here,” she says, shivering. I press the power lock, and watch as she scoots into the passenger seat.

Fuck. What am I doing?

I finish off the coffee and then walk over to where a trash can is located in the parking lot, and deposit the empty cup inside.

I have my hands in my pockets, and the cold damp wind whipping around me has brought some measure of sobriety to me.

I open the door on the driver’s side and slide in, starting the engine to at least get some warmth going.

“Shayla, listen, my cab will be here soon, so how about you tell me what exactly brought you out here?”

“Maybe I can show you,” she says, holding up the foil square of one of the condoms she must’ve found in the glove box. “I like it that you came prepared.”

Before I can blink, she’s practically straddling me, her skirt is up around her waist, and I can see that she evidently goes commando. I didn’t think chicks did that. What do I know?

Her lips come crashing down on mine as she wriggles onto my lap, and my dick gets a semi before I realize that this can’t happen. Not with her.

I lean back, breaking the connection, and firmly plant my hands on each of her arms, lifting her off of me. “I don’t think so, sweetheart.”

“Why? You don’t think I can fuck you as good as September did?”

My jaw drops. “Uh…so much for her keeping things private, I guess.” My voice trails off as I absentmindedly hit the power locks a couple of times.

“Seriously, Jesse? Your relationship was torture to her, and I understand what that was like.”

I look over at her, “Yeah, I guess you probably did.”

She gives me a cocky smile. “Well, so much for September putting
my
business out there.”

“It wasn’t like that,” I say, feeling the need to defend September. “I saw what she was looking up on the Internet one evening, and well—hell, I thought that she was the one in trouble.”

“In
trouble?
Oh Jesse,” she laughs, “You are a gem among stones. Seriously, I mean it. Let me ask you this, what would you have done if it
had
been September ‘in trouble,’ as you say?”

I gaze over at her and without thinking reply, “I sure as hell wouldn’t have let her do what you did.”

“Ouch,” she says, “Judgy much? I guess you do put it out there just like September says.” She’s silent for a moment, and then looks over at me, her face solemn. “You know, you two actually
are
perfect for one another. I guess I never really thought about that until now.”

“Yeah, well I apologize, I didn’t intend to judge you, but you asked what I would’ve done and, well, that’s it.”

“That I did,” she concedes. “Too bad I didn’t meet someone like you first. I guess the heart wants what the heart wants…”

“So I’ve heard.”

She scoots closer to me, and I feel her hands pressing into my chest. “You know, there’s nothing wrong with the two of us enjoying each other for the evening. No strings.”

“Not gonna happen.”

She brushes her warm lips against my neck, flicking her tongue along, blazing a warm trail. “Why?” she asks huskily, “No one has to know.”

“Not a good idea. Besides, I thought you were September’s friend. Is that what friends do?”

“Aww, come on. She’s apparently over it or you wouldn’t be out looking for pussy, right? Why don’t you let me straddle you again, and let’s put this condom to some good use, okay?” she asks, holding up the unopened foil square. I bet you would love to have me riding your cock.”

She’s opens the condom packet with her teeth and I immediately grab it from her, powering down my window and tossing it outside of the truck. I plant my hand firmly against her shoulder and gently push her back from where she’s crawled back over onto my seat.

“My cab’s here, Shayla. Time for you to scoot.”

“What the fuck ever,” she hisses. She turns away from me abruptly, brushing her skirt back in place. She jerks open the passenger door. “Your loss,” she snaps as she slams it shut. I watch as she traipses off towards the restaurant and then I realize I’ve sobered up considerably. I send the cabbie on his way, telling him the party has already left.

Tacky, I know. But I don’t intend on leaving my truck here only to have Shayla key it once she’s had a couple more cocktails and the sting of rejection mounts. She seems the type.

I don’t need any further drama in my life at the moment.

December 13th

It’s still dark outside when I awaken to the familiar sound of Brandon’s headboard slamming against the wall of his bedroom, which, as my bad luck would have it, is on the other side of my bedroom wall. Poor apartment planning on the part of the building’s designers who were evidently clueless about man whores back in the 1930’s, when the place was built.

I glance over at the clock. It’s only 5:47 a.m.

Seriously, Brandon?

The rhythm of the headboard pounding against the four-inch thick plastered walls increases, and I wait for it.

There it is.

Ashley’s shrill moan reverberates through the wall, and I count in my head when it will reach its crescendo as a full-fledged shriek.

Three. Two. One. Maestro?

And there it is in High-definition. I imagine it rattling the glass in Brandon’s bedroom window. Here comes the finale. Wait for it, folks.

“Oh Fuck, Brandon!”

The fat lady—or in this case—the skinny chick with the big tits has sung.

Ashley is Brandon’s latest hook-up, and, all in all, a pretty nice girl. They came by the evening before last and chatted as I was packing up my stuff. Ashley had complimented my taste in clothes, music and videos. Brandon had only grumbled about my moving back to Meridian being a fucking bad idea.

Gee, tell me how you really feel, Bran?

“Oh Brandon, leave her be,” Ashley had commented, giving his back a light slap. “She’s your friend, you should be supportive.”

To which he’d only grumbled something more unintelligibly that couldn’t be argued against.

I scoot out of bed, knowing that I might as well get my journey started since I won’t be able to fall back asleep now.

I make damn sure they won’t be sawing any logs either as I turn on the television in my bedroom and up the volume as I start getting dressed for my trip back home.

I step into the bathroom to brush my teeth, and pull my hair up, packing up my toiletries in a separate bag when I hear someone pounding on the door of my apartment.

My heart leaps, wondering momentarily if somehow Jesse’s found out about my plans, which could only have been through Gram, and I’m fairly certain she wouldn’t risk it.

The truth is, Gram wants me there with them. She has crafted this whole scenario in her mind whereby Mama stays with Jesse and Scout, where they will live as a family happily ever after.

Fat fucking chance. She hasn’t been clued in yet.

I open the door quickly, and see that it’s Brandon. He’s wearing boxers and a worn U of A tee. “Seriously, September? You’ve got CNN blaring on your television in the bedroom at six in the morning?”

He yawns, which makes the dirty look he’s giving me far less intimidating.

“Oh, did I wake you?” I ask innocently, moving away from the door as he saunters in.

“Well…no, but you’re keeping us from sleep.”

“Hmm…well, I was sleeping pretty soundly until the cracked plaster started falling in there,” I tease, “What with the racket and opera singing going on at your place.”

He smirks. “Yeah, I figured as much. Fuck it, who needs sleep? Got coffee?”

“Sorry, coffee maker is packed.”

“How about I make us some coffee and bring it over? I’ll help you pack up your car.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

And so he does, and within an hour and a half, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be to leave Ft. Smith and head back to Meridian.

For some reason, saying goodbye to Brandon is more difficult than I thought. It wasn’t as if we’d known each other that long, or that well, but he was the closest thing to a BFF I had these days, or really, ever. I’m way closer to him than I ever have been with Shayla.

My eyes tear up as he grabs me in a bear hug, and kisses the top of my head. “You be careful driving. Call or text me when you get there, okay Dawson?”

I nod against him, not wanting him to hear my quivering voice.

“And we will definitely stay in touch, right?”

I nod again.

“Okay then, I’ll let you go, for now.”

“Bye, Bran,” I say softly, standing on my tip toes to kiss his stubbled cheek. “Thanks for everything.”

He stands on the sidewalk as I get into the car that is packed solid with my belongings, and start the engine. I wipe away a stray tear as I put my seat belt on, and pull out onto the street, tapping the horn a couple of times. My eyes go to the rearview mirror and I watch him still standing there, his arms crossed in front of him as he watches me until my car is out of sight.

I release a sigh.

Inside I know that I’m starting a new chapter in my life, the same way that I had when I first arrived in Ft. Smith almost two years ago. But this chapter is way scarier for a couple of reasons, not the least of which is I’m not sure how I’m going to break it to my grandparents that it’s not just a winter break visit…it’s for good.

Christmas is approaching and work is slow, which is typical for December, January and early February, but it sure has hell isn’t helping me get through the holidays.