by Casey Peeler
Joe looks at me with pleading eyes, and I nod yes. I glance back over my shoulder at Georgia. We have a secret code. Come and get me in five.
I walk with him into my room and close the door.
“Please don’t cry, Squirrel.” He tries to brush away the tears, but I push away his hand instead.
“Keep your hands off me. Got it?”
“Yeah, please tell me you thought about what I told you? Tell me you forgive me. I can’t leave for a month knowing that I ruined the best relationship I’ve ever had other than with Gran. I can’t lose you. I’ll take whatever you can give.”
“Joe, right now I really want to forgive you, but I would rather be angry. What you did is unforgiveable. You’re no better than Dylan! I just can’t right now.”
His eyes begin to glisten, and I know I’ve hurt him. That’s what I want. I want to hurt him as much as he has hurt me.
“Squirrel, even though you didn’t give me the answer I wanted, I believe there is hope in your words. I hope you have a great break, and when you decide I’m worthy of being forgiven, call me no matter what time.”
He takes a step away from me and walks out the door. As it closes, tears stream down my face, and I’m completely sober now.
Within seconds, Georgia is in my room. She has two glasses in her hands. We sit in the floor and get sloppy drunk, while I relive every moment of my past: the good, the bad, and the totally fucked up.
At some point, the music dies down and people retire to their rooms. I stumble into my bed with my ugly sweater acting as pajamas and go to sleep because I have no fight in me at this point. Tomorrow is another day.
Chapter 6
Holy shit! My head feels like it’s throbbing, and my ringing phone sounds like needles penetrating my skull. Hungover. That is what it is and why I’m not a fan. I do believe this is the only time in my life that I haven’t wanted Luke Bryan to crash my party because undoubtedly I partied too much last night. As I reach for my phone, I feel like my arm weighs two tons and I’m totally off balance. I know that ringtone and who’s on the other side. It makes me smile, which takes all efforts at this point in the day.
“Hey, Cash Money,” I say groggily.
“Char-coal, are you hungover?” he questions.
“Uh huh, I feel like shit on the bottom of a horse’s hoof.”
He begins to laugh. “Well, that’s one way to put it. You gonna be able to drive home today?”
“I sure hope so. We’ve got a lot to talk about, and, oh gosh, hold on.” I throw my phone onto the bed and make a mad dash to the bathroom. I barely make it to the porcelain throne before spilling all the contents from my stomach. Better. Much better. I wash my hands and take a few deep breaths before returning to my room to finish my conversation. “Sorry.”
“You feel better?”
“Yup, still got a headache that won’t quit, but what I wouldn’t kill for a Cajun filet biscuit about now.”
“And Bo Rounds? Sweet tea? Bo Berry Biscuits? Do you want me to keep goin’?” Cash snickers.
“My mouth is watering thanks to you! If I ever decide to do this again, remind me not to! I don’t know why people think this is fun. But, hell, mine was just ‘cause Joe showed up again.”
“Whoa! What did you say? Hold on and let me get this straight. Joe showed up, and you got drunk? What the hell, Char? I’m not there!”
“Don’t get your panties in a tangle just yet! I got piss-ass drunk with Georgia right by my side after he left. I’m good. Now, I’m gonna get off here and try to act like I’m not hungover. I’ll text you before I leave, but just so you know, the Kluft girls are going to Hank’s tonight and I know them well enough to know that I’m gonna have to have a damn good excuse not to go.”
“Char, do what you want to, but be careful. Call and let me know what you decide. ‘Cause I wanna go hunting this afternoon if you’re not coming home.”
“Don’t let that stop ya. You know it wouldn’t me.” I smirk because he knows that is one hundred percent the truth.
“Call me, Char. Love you.”
“Love you.”
I hang up the phone and fall back onto the bed. A shower can wait until this morning nap is complete, and I pray I wake up minus a headache.
My nap is interrupted by a light knocking on my door. I roll out of bed and realize that my body isn’t having an out-of-body experience anymore, and the headache is now a dull constant as opposed to a constant throb. I twist the knob and find Georgia standing there with her hair looking a hot mess. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’d been rolling around in the sheets with someone, but that is not Georgia’s style. She has high standards, and one-night stands are not included.
We don’t speak. She just enters and makes herself comfortable on my bed after grabbing a Choice Cherry Gold and a box of Cheez-Its.
“So, Char, do you remember last night? I mean, I hope you remember what happened before we got piss-ass drunk. I’m sorry for that, but you needed it.”
“Yeah, I remember Joe, if that’s what you mean. I’ve got a question, though. Why did you let him take me in here alone? I just didn’t think you would do that.”
“I wanted to stop him, but the look on his face and those eyes told me more than I ever wanted to know. Plus, I figured that if he was on our territory he wouldn’t do anything. I was giving him five minutes, and then I was gonna beat down the door if he didn’t let me in. Instead, he excused himself like a gentleman.”
Gentleman. That word struck a nerve. It wasn’t long ago that I used the same term to describe Joe. A gentleman… my ass.
“Char, I know you have been through a lot, but I want to know what you have planned over break. If you aren’t doing much, maybe we can meet up or something?”
“Girl, ‘Bama is a haul from here, but let’s see what we can figure out. Oh, and I think I’m going to try to head out before long. What about you?”
“I think I’m going to Hank’s tonight and then on the road first thing in the morning.” Georgia puts back the Cheez-Its onto the shelf before making her way to get ready.
I stand and gaze at myself in the mirror. I look like death warmed over. Maybe a hot shower will do the trick.
Once I take care of the three S’s and put myself together, I begin to take on the task of packing. The question is, if I’m going home for a month, what do I need? What’s at home? I’m not packing up this room to bring it back in four weeks. I decide to take the necessities and worry about the rest when I get home. Worst case scenario involves Piper and me shopping at Northlake.
As I’m packing, I come across the squirrel charm that Joe gave me at homecoming. I hold it tight within my grip and pray that he is good and this is just a test for all of us.
I place it inside the zipper compartment of my cosmetic bag and toss the bag over my shoulder. I walk into the hallway and begin to make my way to the car when Caroline walks out of her room.
“Where do you think you’re goin’?” she asks with her hands on her hips.
“To put my bag in the car. I’m not leaving just yet.”
“Well, you know tonight’s Hank’s, and I can’t believe you’d leave without going. It’s going to be epic. Last night at Hank’s before break. Please tell me you aren’t gonna miss it?”
“Well, I had planned on missing it. I…” Caroline quickly interrupts me.
“Listen, Char. I know life’s been kinda shitty lately, but it’s our last night before we all leave. Let’s go let our hair down. Y’all don’t have practice or class. It’ll just be fun with the girls. Who knows, you might meet some hot baseball guy?” she says as she nudges me.
“Whatever. I’ll think about it, but I’m just getting ready to go home.”
“Okay, but it will be fun. I promise.”
I look at Caroline like she’s an idiot. “Caroline, hun, Hank’s is always fun. I just want to get home and release all this stress with my Marlin 30/30. There’s a doe, buck, or even a tin can calling my
name!”
I walk past her, down the stairs to my car, and pop the trunk. Using a few extra minutes, I think about what I want to do. I want to go home, but a night out would be great. When I think about that, I think about last night. That was not fabulous like I had planned. Maybe I should stay around. Heck, who wants to have their last night of the semester end in tears, heartache, and the worst hangover of their life? I think a night at Hank’s is just the cure.
Taking my bag, I unzip it and remove my cosmetic bag and walk back upstairs. I’m going to have a good time with the girls tonight, and no guys are going to ruin it.
Chapter 7
Tucking my bag underneath my arm, I make my way back up the stoop and onto Kluft second floor. The girls are chillin’ in the hallway, and Caroline is grinning from ear to ear.
“Not a word, Caroline. Not a word.”
“I didn’t say a thing,” she says in her sweet Southern drawl.
“Yeah, whatever. You are dying to say I told ya so!”
“What can I say? I love when redneck meets ghetto fabulous.”
Tori chimes in, “Ya know, Char, if you can come up with shit like that, they’re going to hire you for one of those damn Budweiser commercials. Then, we’ll say we knew you when.” I just shake my head.
I take a moment to send Cash, Piper, and Tessa a quick text telling them that I will be home tomorrow. The Kluft girls spend the remainder of the day watching chick flicks, eating leftover pizza, and preparing for an epic night at Hank’s. I’m hoping to make this a night I don’t forget, so no alcohol for me.
I glance in my closet. What to wear? What to wear? Heck, it’s Hank’s. It’s not like it really matters, and I have no one to impress. I pull a pair of Miss Me jeans, a solid purple tank, and my Ariats. I brush through my hair and apply a little mascara, blush, and lip gloss, and I’m ready to leave.
“Dang, Char, you’re gonna kill them tonight,” Anna says as I walk out of my room.
I stop and look her way. She can’t be serious. “Um, what are you talking about? I’m just dressed like I always do at home.”
Hayden begins to laugh, and it can’t be good. “Well, no wonder Cash doesn’t want anyone to get near you, ‘cause if I looked that good in a pair of jeans and a plain tank, I’d shake my money maker for all it’s worth!” She winks.
“Seriously, Hayden? I just grabbed something from the closet. I’m not trying to impress anyone tonight.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Those baseball guys are gonna be all over you tonight. Just watch.”
We turn up the music, and everyone partakes in a few more beverages before we pile into the Love Machine and make our way toward Hank’s.
As usual, we roll in on two wheels, and nothing about this place has changed since our last visit. It’s amazing how a run-down place that smells like skunked beer and cigarettes could be our second home. It’s our escape from reality, like our sanctuary away from class, parents, drama, and the world outside these four walls.
I take a minute and check the rearview mirror. Smile. There’s nothing in the pearly whites, and then I slide out of the driver’s seat onto the gravel. I pat my pocket, making sure I have my ID.
Georgia makes it about halfway across the road before the pavement grows a foot and she’s face-first on the ground. She starts to laugh hysterically, and I pull her up by her arms. Good thing this isn’t a high-traffic road. She better slow her roll, or she’s gonna be passed out before long.
We push through the glass door and past the bouncer who eyes me from head to toe as we make our way into Hank’s. Of course, we form our usual beeline to the bathroom and the stall with no door.
“All right, ladies, what’s the plan tonight? Who’s getting a piece before they go home for a month?” Hayden questions. She scans all of us, and most have their hands raised, but Georgia and me. “Char, I hate to break it to you, but if you don’t get a piece, it’s your own damn fault. Georgia, we know you well enough to know that you’re gonna have those hips rockin’ the dance floor with one guy all night long.”
I just shake my head. Sometimes being sober isn’t fun. Hell, it never is, but tonight’s about cutting lose and staying in control.
We make our way to the bar and order Bud Lights all around plus my water. Then, it’s to the dance floor. The sound of Flo Rida’s “Wild Ones” echoes through the speakers, and we know exactly what to do. We hit the dance floor and go hard. It’s about us girls having a good time tonight. Here we don’t have to worry about some ass trying to interrupt or put moves on us that we don’t want. Hayden starts acting a fool by doing that damn sprinkler dance move, and I totally lose it. We all take turns goofing off and breaking out old school moves.
When Drake’s “Started from the Bottom” comes across the speakers, we quit goofing off and start dancing our asses off. Before we know what’s going on, the entire baseball team is surrounding us and enjoying the view. Songs bleed from one to the next. Once sweat begins to drip down my back, I pull my hair up into a messy bun and continue to enjoy the night.
By song number four, a smokin’ hot baseball player has his strong hands wrapped around my waist. I swear I’ve just met Chipper Jones fifteen years ago! I continue to dance and take in the aroma of sweat and Dolce and Gabbana. Holy crap. I never thought those two things would go together. The songs change pace and begin to slow. I know I need to separate myself from him, because at this point, I’m not looking for someone new. As I start to pull away, he grabs my hand and tugs me close.
“Hey, Char, I’m Tucker, or can I call you Squirrel?” I must have looked like a damn deer in headlights because I completely froze right after he said it. No one calls me that but Joe. WTF? My breath begins to heighten, and I can feel sweat building under my arms. Tucker must have noticed as well. “Um, did I say something wrong? I thought that was your nickname?”
I swallow hard. “Well, that’s what Joe calls me.”
“So, is it okay if I call you that?” His eyes look as sincere as they can despite the amount of alcohol he has flowing in his veins. I shake my head no.
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“All right, but just so you know, he’s a complete idiot for letting you go that easy.” Here we go. Another night with my drama. What do I do? I have to get him to shut up about Joe before I freakin’ lose it. I take my hands and run them up his washboard stomach. I can feel every chiseled ab and indention. I look up at him, and he gets the point. Not one more word about Joe. As the song comes to an end, he pulls me in close and lifts my chin. “Like I said, he’s a fuckin’ idiot,” he says as his lips brush mine.
My mind takes a moment to focus on what is going on. Warm, soft, hungry lips are covering mine. Tucker pulls away from me and kisses my forehead as the next song, “Roar” by Katy Perry, begins to play. I start to laugh inside, thinking about Hayden. I glance at the Kluft girls who are obviously thinking the same thing. I smile at Tucker and make my way to them about the time the chorus begins, and we all sing at the top of our lungs.
I know it’s near closing time, which means the one song that always ends a night at Hank’s is about to be played. I push that thought to the back of my brain and just let loose for the next twenty minutes. When the first chord of “Let’s Get It On” begins, I back away from the dance floor.
As I turn to walk away, intense blue eyes stare back at me. Joe. Joe’s here? My heart begins to hurt. I want to forgive him, but I just can’t. Not yet.
Joe gives me no option. He takes my hand and guides me back to the dance floor. Georgia looks like she is shooting darts straight at him. He ignores her and wraps his arms around me. I drop my head to his chest, and tears begin to fall. Why can’t my nightmare end? Why?
We attempt to dance, but our worlds have stopped. He stands with his arms around my trembling body, and I look up to him as the song ends. Barely audible words escape his lips. “Squirrel, I’m here when you’re ready.”
I wipe the tears from my face as I pu
ll myself from his embrace. I turn and leave him standing alone on the dance floor. The Kluft girls are waiting for me once I reach the door, and Georgia pulls me in for a hug. We exit Hank’s and pile into the Love Machine, and I don’t look back. As I take a deep breath, crank the van, and begin to pull out, I see Joe walking out of Hank’s. Our eyes meet, and I turn my head as quickly as possible. I do not want to feel any connection to Joe, but my heart tells me otherwise.
We make it back to campus with the typical roadblock, walk up the stoop, and into bed in record time.
After crawling into bed, I send Cash a quick text. I roll over, close my eyes, and succumb to the exhaustion. Tomorrow is a new day.
Chapter 8
The morning light peers through my window and wakes me an hour before I’d like. I pull my sheets over my head and doze back off for another forty-five minutes.
I wake up to “Hell on Heels,” Piper’s ringtone.
“Hello,” I croak.
“Hey, Char, you ain’t on the road yet? We got shit to do, girl! I mean, I haven’t seen you in what feels like forever! How’s Joe?”
Damn, I’m not even awake now. How did I not tell Piper yet? “Um, good I guess.”
“What do you mean? Good? What’s wrong, Char?”
“Let’s just say Joe’s not on our team. Look. I don’t want to get into it right now. I should be home by one. I’ll see you then.”