out, wiping more tears from her eyes. "I'm just so stupid. I think... I think I'm in love with him." Well, hell. I thought she was going to tell me something I didn't already know.
"Of course you are. There's nothing wrong with that."
"Jenna, I'm scared." My heart breaks for her. I've never been afraid of anything. My motto has always been that if it's meant to be, it will be. The difference is that Quincy has always lived with the threat of instability, of losing someone she loves, and I haven't. Her sister, Katie, is so unstable, so self-destructive, it's a wonder she's made it this long. The person Quincy loves the most is the person who hurts her the most.
"Oh, Quincy. If I could just make you see how crazy that boy is about you-" Before I can finish, she begins shaking her head, as if she doesn't believe it. "Well, you could look at it this way... at least he's having sex with you. My so called boyfriend would rather keep his guitar than have sex with me." Just as I'd planned, she perks right up, a smile teasing the corner of her mouth and her eyes shining. Not a tear in sight.
"Yeah, well, there is that ." She smiles, her insecurities temporarily forgotten. "And that is pretty darn wonderful. Let's get going so you can plan your weekend of torture."
"I like the way you're thinkin'."
Crisis averted. For now.
Just as the door closes behind us, Quincy turns to me in the hall and says, "Jenna, I'm not afraid of Brody. If he hurts me, I'll survive." She takes a deep breath and blows it out quickly. "But if I hurt Declan, I'm not sure I will."
"I know, Quince." I throw my arm around her shoulders, gently squeezing. "I know."
Chapter 8
Eric
"I guess I don't have to tell you how fucked up that is." Leave it to Seth, my loud and rowdy fraternity brother, to put it so eloquently. He doesn't even try to hide his laughter when his shoulders begin to shake. As he tilts his head back to take a long pull from his beer, I wonder why I even opened my pie hole.
"It was just a stupid bet. How was I supposed to know this was gonna happen?" I mean, can't a guy catch a break? I'm just glad my misery is proving to be so entertaining to everyone else, even Jenna.
"You know what you gotta do, man?" Seth concentrates, narrowing his eyes as he peels the label from his bottle, no doubt concocting some illogical plan that will make sense only to him. I oughta run as fast as I can, but I'm strangely fascinated by what I call Sethology. It's like a train wreck. You don't want to look, but you can't help yourself.
"Yeah? What's that?" A glutton for punishment, that's what I am. If I weren't so drunk, I'd get up and leave his sorry ass sitting here.
"You gotta lose the bet. Lose your fuckin' guitar." His voice is suddenly serious, and his chin juts upward, as if he's challenging me. I watch him, thinking he has to be joking, but his eyes tell a different story. He's as serious as a heart attack.
"No way, man." I shake my head, my heart rising in my throat. He doesn't so much as blink an eye. "Are you kidding me? Those are your almighty words of wisdom?" I just can't imagine giving up this close to the end. I'm keeping my guitar, and I'm getting my girl.
Two days. Forty-eight hours. That's nothing.
"Look, E. There are two things I never joke about- my Momma and pussy." He pauses, guzzling the rest of his beer before slamming his bottle back to the table. "Think about it. If you ever want her to trust you again, you're gonna have to lose the bet. If you don't, she'll always think your Fender was more important than her or some other fucked up female logic." At my incredulous look, he taps himself in the chest. "What, man, you don't trust me?" That's the dumbest shit I've ever heard, and he has the balls to look offended?
His words begin to sink in, and maybe it's the alcohol or maybe it's insanity, but suddenly, I see it all so clearly. It makes perfect sense.
Everything is going to be just fine.
All I have to do is lose my
"Of course you are. There's nothing wrong with that."
"Jenna, I'm scared." My heart breaks for her. I've never been afraid of anything. My motto has always been that if it's meant to be, it will be. The difference is that Quincy has always lived with the threat of instability, of losing someone she loves, and I haven't. Her sister, Katie, is so unstable, so self-destructive, it's a wonder she's made it this long. The person Quincy loves the most is the person who hurts her the most.
"Oh, Quincy. If I could just make you see how crazy that boy is about you-" Before I can finish, she begins shaking her head, as if she doesn't believe it. "Well, you could look at it this way... at least he's having sex with you. My so called boyfriend would rather keep his guitar than have sex with me." Just as I'd planned, she perks right up, a smile teasing the corner of her mouth and her eyes shining. Not a tear in sight.
"Yeah, well, there is that ." She smiles, her insecurities temporarily forgotten. "And that is pretty darn wonderful. Let's get going so you can plan your weekend of torture."
"I like the way you're thinkin'."
Crisis averted. For now.
Just as the door closes behind us, Quincy turns to me in the hall and says, "Jenna, I'm not afraid of Brody. If he hurts me, I'll survive." She takes a deep breath and blows it out quickly. "But if I hurt Declan, I'm not sure I will."
"I know, Quince." I throw my arm around her shoulders, gently squeezing. "I know."
Chapter 8
Eric
"I guess I don't have to tell you how fucked up that is." Leave it to Seth, my loud and rowdy fraternity brother, to put it so eloquently. He doesn't even try to hide his laughter when his shoulders begin to shake. As he tilts his head back to take a long pull from his beer, I wonder why I even opened my pie hole.
"It was just a stupid bet. How was I supposed to know this was gonna happen?" I mean, can't a guy catch a break? I'm just glad my misery is proving to be so entertaining to everyone else, even Jenna.
"You know what you gotta do, man?" Seth concentrates, narrowing his eyes as he peels the label from his bottle, no doubt concocting some illogical plan that will make sense only to him. I oughta run as fast as I can, but I'm strangely fascinated by what I call Sethology. It's like a train wreck. You don't want to look, but you can't help yourself.
"Yeah? What's that?" A glutton for punishment, that's what I am. If I weren't so drunk, I'd get up and leave his sorry ass sitting here.
"You gotta lose the bet. Lose your fuckin' guitar." His voice is suddenly serious, and his chin juts upward, as if he's challenging me. I watch him, thinking he has to be joking, but his eyes tell a different story. He's as serious as a heart attack.
"No way, man." I shake my head, my heart rising in my throat. He doesn't so much as blink an eye. "Are you kidding me? Those are your almighty words of wisdom?" I just can't imagine giving up this close to the end. I'm keeping my guitar, and I'm getting my girl.
Two days. Forty-eight hours. That's nothing.
"Look, E. There are two things I never joke about- my Momma and pussy." He pauses, guzzling the rest of his beer before slamming his bottle back to the table. "Think about it. If you ever want her to trust you again, you're gonna have to lose the bet. If you don't, she'll always think your Fender was more important than her or some other fucked up female logic." At my incredulous look, he taps himself in the chest. "What, man, you don't trust me?" That's the dumbest shit I've ever heard, and he has the balls to look offended?
His words begin to sink in, and maybe it's the alcohol or maybe it's insanity, but suddenly, I see it all so clearly. It makes perfect sense.
Everything is going to be just fine.
All I have to do is lose my
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