Walking Disaster
“I haven’t seen her!” Kara shouted.
I walked into the hall, looking in both directions, and Kara slammed the door shut behind me, followed by the click of the bolt lock.
The wall felt cold against my back, and I suddenly realized I didn’t have a coat on. Slowly sliding down the concrete block wall to my ass, I covered my face with my hands. She might have hated me at the moment, but she had to come home sometime.
After twenty minutes, I pulled out my phone and shot her a text.
Pidge, please. i know ur pissed, but we can still talk about this
And then another.
Please come home.
And another.
Please? i love you.
She didn’t respond. I waited another half hour, and then sent her more.
im @ Morgan would u @ least call me to let me know if ur coming home 2nite?
Pigeon I’m so f**kin sorry. Please come home. I need 2 c u.
U know im not the 1 being unreasonable here. U could @ least answer me.
i don’t f**king deserve this ok so im an asshat 4 thinking i could solve all our problems with money but @least i don’t run away every time we have 1
im sorry i didn’t mean that
what do u want me 2 do? i will do whatever u want me 2 ok? just please talk 2 me.
this is bullshit
im in love with u. i don’t understand how u can just walk away
Just before sunrise, when I was sure I’d officially made a total ass of myself and Abby was probably certain that I was insane, I picked myself up off the floor. The fact that security had never showed to escort me out was amazing in itself, but if I was still sitting in the hallway when the girls started leaving for class, that luck would more than likely run out.
After trudging down the stairs in defeat, I sat on my bike, and even though a T-shirt was the only thing between my skin and the frigid winter air, I ignored it. Hoping to see Abby in history class, I went straight home to thaw my skin under a hot shower.
Shepley stood at the doorway of my bedroom while I got dressed.
“What do you want, Shep?”
“Did you talk to her?”
“No.”
“At all? Text? Anything?”
“I said no,” I snapped.
“Trav.” Shepley sighed. “She’s probably not going to be in class today. I don’t want me and America in the middle of this, but that’s what she said.”
“Maybe she will,” I said, buckling my belt. I put on Abby’s favorite cologne, and then slipped on my coat before grabbing my backpack.
“Hold up, I’ll drive you.”
“No, I’ll take the bike.”
“Why?”
“In case she agrees to come back to the apartment with me so we can talk.”
“Travis, I think it’s time you consider the fact that she might not—”
“Shut the f**k up, Shep,” I said, glancing over to him. “Just this one time, don’t be reasonable. Don’t try to save me. Just be my friend, okay?”
Shepley nodded once. “You got it.”
America came out of Shepley’s room, still in her pj’s. “Travis, it’s time to let her go. She was done the second you made it clear you were working for Benny.”
When I didn’t reply, she continued, “Travis . . .”
“Don’t. No offense, Mare, but I can’t even look at you right now.”
Without waiting for a response, I slammed the door behind me. Theatrics were worth it just to vent a little of the anxiety I felt about seeing Abby. Better than getting on my hands and knees in a panic to beg her back in the middle of class. Not that I wouldn’t go that far if that was what it would take to change her mind.
Walking slowly to class and even taking the stairs didn’t keep me from being a half hour early. I hoped Abby would show up, and we’d have time to talk before, but when the previous class let out, she still wasn’t there.
I sat down, next to her empty seat, and picked at my leather bracelet while the other students filtered into the classrooms and took their seats. It was just another day for them. Watching their world continue while mine was coming to an end was disturbing.
Except for a few stragglers sneaking in behind Mr. Chaney, everyone was accounted for—everyone but Abby. Mr. Chaney flipped open his book, greeted the classroom, and then started his lecture. His words blurred together as my heart knocked against my chest, swelling more with each breath. My teeth clenched and my eyes watered as thoughts of Abby being somewhere else, relieved to be away from me, amplified my anger.
I stood and stared at Abby’s empty desk.
“Er . . . Mr. Maddox? Are you feeling well?” Mr. Chaney asked.
I kicked over her desk and then mine, barely registering the gasps and shrieks of the students watching.
“GOD DAMMIT!” I screamed, kicking my desk again.
“Mr. Maddox,” Mr. Chaney said in a strangely calm voice. “I think it’s best you get some fresh air.”
I stood over the toppled desks, breathing hard.
“Leave my classroom, Travis. Now,” Chaney said, this time his voice more firm.
I jerked my backpack from the floor and shoved open the door, hearing the wood crash against the wall behind it.
“Travis!”
The only detail that registered about the voice was that it was female. I flipped around, for half a second hopeful that it was Abby.
Megan sauntered down the hall, stopping next to me. “I thought you had class?” She smiled. “Doing anyone exciting this weekend?”
“What do you need?”
She raised an eyebrow, her eyes bright with recognition. “I know you. You’re pissed. Things didn’t work out with the nun?”
I didn’t answer.
“I could have told you that.” She shrugged, and then took a step closer, whispering in my ear so close her full lips brushed against my ear. “We’re the same, Travis: not good for anybody.”
My eyes darted to hers, traveled down to her lips, and then back. She leaned in with her trademark small, sexy smile.
“Fuck off, Megan.”
Her smile vanished, and I walked away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Not Good for Anybody
THE NEXT WEEK SEEMED ENDLESS. AMERICA AND I DECIDED it would be best if she stayed at Morgan for a while. Shepley reluctantly agreed. Abby missed all three days of history and found somewhere else other than the cafeteria to eat. I tried to catch up with her after a few of her classes, but she either never went to them or had left early. She wouldn’t answer her phone.
Shepley assured me that she was okay, and nothing had happened to her. As agonizing as it was to know I was two degrees from Abby, it would have been worse to be cut off from her completely and have no idea if she was dead or alive. Even though it seemed she wanted nothing to do with me, I couldn’t stop hoping that at some point soon she would forgive me or start missing me as much as I missed her and show up at the apartment. Thinking about never seeing her again was too painful, so I decided to keep waiting.
On Friday, Shepley knocked on my door.
“Come in,” I said from the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
“You going out tonight, buddy?”
“No.”
“Maybe you should call Trent. Go get a couple of drinks and get your mind off things for a while.”
“No.”
Shepley sighed. “Listen, America’s coming over, but . . . and I hate to do this to you . . . but you can’t bug her about Abby. I barely talked her into coming. She just wants to stay in my room. Okay?”