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Where the hell could she be?!
Drew
Chill, man. She’s a big girl. She probably just went out with some girlfriends.
I roll my eyes. He and I both know that’s unlikely.
Travis
Or she’s getting groped by some douchebag.
I know it’s dramatic, but this isn’t like Viola at all. On a good day, her hair is pulled up in a messy bun, sporting her black-rimmed glasses and leggings with a book or two in her hand.
He replies moments later.
Drew
Nah, she probably carries pepper spray in her purse right next to her box of condoms.
I hate that he’s not taking this seriously. In high school, if any of his friends came near Viola, he’d—
Wait.
I stop and message him back right away.
Travis
Are you fucking with me? Do you know where she is and not telling me?
Drew
No. I don’t.
I can’t tell if he’s lying or not, so I don’t push it. I grab a pair of drawstring sweatpants and park my ass on the couch. Exhausted or not, I’m not going to sleep until I know she’s home safe.
After watching a couple of Seinfeld re-runs, I can’t keep my eyes open, but every time I close them, visions of Viola being groped by some sleazeball enter my mind. Just as another episode starts, I hear rattling at the door. I practically fly off the couch and rush to the door just as I see Viola stumbling in with a guy wrapped around her from behind. She’s giggling, and he has asshole written all over him.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I growl, my jaw tightening as I clench my fists.
“Travis?” She’s obviously been drinking. “Hey, it’s Travis!” She giggles.
“What the fuck are you doing? Who’s this tool?” I nod my head to the shrimp next to her, wrapping his arms around her waist.
“His name is…” She stumbles again, laughing as I catch her. “Aaron!” She looks at him for approval, and he furrows his brows. “I mean…” She snaps her fingers. “Andrew!”
“That’s wonderful. Andrew needs to leave now.”
“Dude, I’m right fucking here.” He snaps his head, glaring at me. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
“You’re in my fucking house, man. I wouldn’t push it.”
“Travis, don’t be an ass.” She lightly smacks her hand against my chest. “We met at The Lounge. I didn’t want to drive myself home, and he offered.”
“How nice,” I deadpan, knowing exactly what he was offering. “Well, you’re home now. He can leave.”
“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” She scoffs, pushing through me and walking toward the living room. “Or rather,someoneelse’sbed.”
“Viola!” I shout, grabbing her attention back toward me. She trips over her own heels and catches herself on the wall before she falls. “Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? Or the thoughts that were running through my mind? You wouldn’t answer my calls or messages. I thought something happened to you.” The anger boiling under my skin terrifies me, but I don’t have enough strength to stop myself.
