Page 21 of Turning Back

I stop laughing but I’m still smiling, trying to picture Bric and Jordan trying to play with some random girl. I miss it, so there’s this little part of me that’s jealous. But mostly I find it comical.

“And the girls, man. Jesus Christ. We’ve been through three of them. This last one…” Bric rolls his eyes and lets out a long exhale. “Rochelle was so much better than these girls. Chella was great too, you know?”

I nod. “She really was. I kinda wish Chella and Smith were still playing. I think I’d have handled all this shit better if we were still in that relationship.”

“I think so too,” Bric says. “But you and me, man. We’re still good at this, you know? We could be friends again. Find a new girl.”

“With Jordan?” I ask, one eyebrow raised.

Bric shrugs. “I don’t care. He was always good enough down in the Club, you know?”

True. We have fucked girls with Jordan plenty of times. I don’t really like him, but Bric is right. He’s good enough when we’re the ones in control. The game was never meant to be played with just two guys. I imagine that makes everything off balance. You really need that third guy to keep the feelings away.

And even then…

“Or just the two of us,” Bric offers, his voice low, like he’s uncertain how I’d feel about it. “We could come up with a new game. Change things around a little.”

“Maybe,” I admit, sighing. “I do miss that, you know.”

“I do too,” Bric says. “But we can’t go forward until we deal with the past. Let’s just go over there, meet up with Smith, go up, and confront her. You say everything you want to say. Then we’ll leave.”

“And the baby?” I ask. “What do I do about the baby?”

Bric shrugs. “I dunno, man. You just gotta see what happens, I guess.”

I take my own car over to the Four Seasons. It’s only about eight blocks away from the Club, so not nearly enough time to process what’s happening. I pull into the valet, hand over my keys, and spy Bric, Chella, and Smith standing near the sleek, modern stairs, through the window of the lobby.

Chella walks towards me as I enter, holding the little rat called Precious. “Quin, are you sure you’re up to this? Don’t let them pressure you into anything you’re not ready for.”

“Come on,” I say. “I’m fine. I’m pissed off, but otherwise fine.”

“Just give her the benefit of the doubt, OK?”

“Why should I? What she did—”

“What she did,” Chella interrupts me, “was done in desperation.”

“How was she desperate? Huh? Explain that to me, please. Because I don’t get it.”

“She was pregnant, Quin. It’s a weird time for some women. I know you don’t understand that, but some don’t handle it well. They do crazy things. Overreact and become sad. I can’t explain it, because obviously, I’ve never been pregnant. But I was with her, remember? We were friends that whole time she was getting ready to leave. I told you she was sad. I told you something big was happening to her. So just… just be patient and be quiet.”

I sneer down at Chella.

“Just listen to her.”

“What if she has nothing to say?” I ask. “What if she blows us off and just says, ‘Fuck you guys?’”

“Then…” Chella shrugs. “Then walk out and don’t look back.”

“The baby, Chella.”

“Shit,” she says, biting her lip. “I forgot about that.”

“I might want to walk out on Rochelle, but not the baby.”

“It could be Bric’s,” Chella says, a little hint of hope in her voice. We both know Bric isn’t into kids. He might be happy if Rochelle walked away with his kid.

“It’s not,” I say.