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“Because you’ve been with nothing but jerks. I wouldn’t be a jerk. I’d treat you right.”
I desperately want to be more than friends, but I’m scared that I will mess it up and then lose out on what we have now. And what we have now is what I really needed: a friend, someone in my corner, someone who cared about me.
“Abbey.” He says after a moment. “We could try it. We could try to be a couple.”
“Fuck someone else.” I blurt out. “Have sex with someone else, and then we’ll see.”
He sighs. “I’m not doing that. I’m sorry, Abbey. We can just be friends, but I’m not having meaningless sex with someone just because you don’t believe I actually want you. I’m not doing that.”
I don’t really know what to say to that. I’m convinced once he has sex with someone else, he won’t feel as strongly about me.
“What do you want to do now?” He asks after a moment. “You still have some time left.”
“I think I should go.” I say softly.
“Abbey, I’m sorry.” He says, standing up again. “Nothing has to change right now.”
“I feel like it already has.” I say honestly. “I think I need to…” I need to throw up. I feel full and overwhelmed. I wonder if I could pull it off. “I need a drink.”
“A drink.” He smiles. “What would you like to drink?”
“Vodka.”
“Vodka?” He replies, squeezing by me and walking towards the kitchen area. “We have vodka. Straight or did you want me to make you a drink?”
“What can you make?” I ask, walking after him.
“Anything. I used to be a bartender.” He says.
“Make me something yummy.”
We walk back into the common area. Dennis sits at the table on his phone. Ben is strumming at his guitar.
“That was…” Ben starts to say something.
“Shut up.” Wes says to him. “Want something to drink?”
“Oh, Wes is playing bartender again?” Dennis says, looking up from his phone.
“What are you making?” Ben asks.
“Mules?” He says, pulling out copper cups. “If we have ginger beer.”
“We should.” Ben says, setting his guitar down. “Check above the fridge.”
Wes checks out the contents of the fridge. “Awesome.” He chortles triumphantly, grabbing a few cans of ginger beer out of the cupboard above the fridge.
“He makes good enough drinks for an ex-bartender, but he is a much better singer.” Ben says. “Have a seat. I don’t really bite… hard.” He smirks, and I take a seat across from him for a moment.
“Actually, I think I’ll use the bathroom.” I say. Wes looks up at me, studying me. “I’ll be just a minute.”
“Okay.” Ben says.
I get up, and I feel Wes’s eyes on me. “Don’t be long.” He warns.
I wonder if he will rat me out to Sue. He surely knows what I’m about to do.
I close myself in the bathroom, wishing there was a sink in here so I could run some water to cover up any sound I might make. The space is compact, but I can still kneel in front of the toilet. I lower my face so it’s practically inside the toilet, hoping that it will cover the sound.
