Part 13 (1/2)

Hmm ... she might have a point. I could have easily brought a plain looking and easier to carry water bottle with me. I guess today is the day for everyone to call me out on my character flaws.

”And,” she continued, ”didn't you tell me last week that you didn't want to get a job at the bar you used to work at because you were afraid people you knew would see you working there and think you were a failure?”

Umm, yes I did say that.

”Yeah,” I said quietly. ”And you don't want to end up like me when you're older.”

”Maybe not,” she said honestly. ”But I would like to have a Kate Spade bag someday.”

We both laughed. I pulled some things out of my bag. I took out my wallet, my gigantic water bottle and my keys. I left the expensive mascara and lip-gloss inside and handed her the bag.

”Here,” I said. ”You can have it.”

She looked stunned. ”Really?”

”Sure,” I told her. ”I have enough bags.”

”Wow,” she said as she put the shoulder strap over her arm and stared down at it in awe. ”That's really nice. Thank you.”

”You're welcome,” I told her.

”I can either use it to fit in with the rich kids or tell the poor kids I stole it,” she explained. ”Either way, it'll give me some clout.”

I smiled and said a silent prayer. Thank G.o.d it wasn't my Chloe bag.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

After my visit with Violet I started replaying the argument with Jake and thinking about all of the things he said. What was that c.r.a.p about me choosing Caleb over him because of money? That may be how it looked to Jake, but that was not how it went down. Caleb came from an upper-middle cla.s.s family. They had more than some but it took almost everything they had to put him through school. There were times in the beginning of our marriage when I didn't even have quarters for the laundry machines. Jake was way wrong. I wasn't a gold-digger!

He wasn't wrong about everything he said though. When I started thinking back, he was right about me running away. That day I'd caught s.k.a.n.k Queen in bed with Riley, I ran off to CMU instead of facing my friends at his birthday party that night. Originally I had only applied to UNC because I liked their school colors (I know, I know; I tend to make decisions for very random reasons), but when I got my admission letter shortly after Riley's birthday I accepted because I didn't want to go to U of M where most of my cla.s.smates were going, just to deal with the same looks of pity every day. I wanted to go where no one would know about my rise and fall in the high school hierarchy game. I thought, to h.e.l.l with Riley and his homies. And I left. I guess I did run away.

When I found out about Destiny's child, I ran to Jake to keep my mind off it.

When Caleb told me he wanted a divorce, the first thing I did was run off to the beach only to run even farther to Michigan.

I went for one job interview, saw someone I didn't want to see and basically gave up job searching all together.

Jake was right! I had been running. Every time things didn't go my way, I left. Even if it was just going to the mall, I always left to find a distraction. And poor Jake, he'd basically been the distraction a number of times. It was like I'd been using him, and he didn't deserve that. He deserved someone who wanted to be with him always, even when times were great, not just when they'd been dumped. It suddenly occurred to me that I was a total jerk. All this time I'd been using him and abusing him, and he'd let me do it. I didn't know why he'd put up with it all this time, but I made a promise to myself that it was going to stop.

I had to stop running. I needed to face the fact that I hit the bottom and start climbing my way back up. I would get my job back at The Bar. The summers weren't as busy, but during the school year I could easily make several hundred a night, and if someone wanted to think I was a loser for that, screw them. I couldn't tell Violet to stop worrying about what people thought if I wasn't going to take my own advice.

I picked up my phone to call Jake, to thank him for pointing out a huge problem and to tell him about my new att.i.tude. That was when I saw I had a missed call from my lawyer.

I called Jake twice and he didn't answer. That was fine. He had to come home eventually, and I'd be waiting for him when he did. I knew he wasn't bartending since it was a weeknight, so I figured he'd be home when he was done making his statement.

I had thrown some pulled pork in the slow cooker before I left for the park. I mastered the pork b.u.t.t while I was at UNC. They call it ”barbeque” down in North Carolina, just barbeque. Once that was ready, I ”pulled” the pork and shredded carrots and cabbage for the cole slaw.

I spent the evening unpacking the bags I'd haphazardly packed that morning and repacking them in a neater way. I brought them downstairs and put them by the back door when I was done so they'd be ready to grab when I left in the morning.

And then I waited ... a long time. I was watching Chelsea Lately in the living room when I finally heard his Jeep pull into the driveway. I got up and went into the kitchen to greet him at the back door. I felt like jumping into his arms and wrapping my legs around his waist like I'd seen people do in photos a lot but never in real life. But he wasn't alone. My brother walked in behind him.

Oh yeah. They were friends after all. I guess they would hang out together every once in awhile. But this really wasn't something I wanted to talk about in front of my brother so that meant I had to wait until Adam went to sleep. Oh well. At least he didn't walk in the door with Carmen or some other shooter girl with perfect legs.

”I made some barbeque,” I told them. ”And homemade slaw.”

”Fantastic!” Adam said and grabbed a plate right away.

Jake looked less enthusiastic, but even a guy who is mad at you doesn't turn down food. Throughout getting his plate, filling it up and eating, he avoided my eyes the entire time. I didn't like it. Not one bit. He was making me angrier every second. And the strangest thing about it was that I wanted him more the madder I got.

I told them I was going to bed, but I really just wanted to get away so I could wait for Jake to come upstairs and ambush him. That doesn't sound totally stalker-esque does it?

I played some apps on my Kindle while I waited. Grrr ... hurry the h.e.l.l up already!

Finally, FINALLY, I heard a beep on my phone.

JAKE: Are you awake?

Just seeing his name made my stomach feel like I was going downhill on a roller coaster.

ME: Yes JAKE: Can I come in?

ME: Of course I got out of bed and opened the door so Jake wouldn't have to knock, and Adam wouldn't get suspicious. When Jake reached the top of the stairs he slipped into my room like a snake, and I quickly closed the door behind him, leaving us in darkness except for the light on my Kindle Fire screen.

I hugged him because I'd really hated our argument earlier, and I was glad he was home. He smelled like beer. I know this is weird, and I'm pretty sure it has something to do with all of the s.e.xual experimenting I did when I was in high school, because beer was usually involved, but the scent of beer on a guy's breath was a huge turn-on for me. And being in the dark, and so close ...

But I made a promise that I wouldn't use him as a distraction anymore, and I wasn't going to break it on the first day. At least, it wasn't my intention to. But Jake didn't pat my head this time. He hugged me back. Tightly, too.

”I've been waiting for you all night,” I whispered into his neck.

”Me too,” he said quietly. ”I'm sorry.”

”Me too.”

Then he kissed me. It was rougher than usual. He was aggressive.

He wrapped his hands into the bun on the back of my head and held my face so tightly to his that even if I'd tried to pull away, I couldn't. Not that I tried to pull away. I had enough self-control not to start anything with him. But once he started it, it was over. I wasn't trying to stop him. The only thing I tried to do was catch my breath before he took it from me again.

He snapped my head back with a quick pull of my hair and I gasped. He kissed my shoulder, my neck, and just under my chin.

”Why?” he asked quietly when his mouth was right by my ear.

”Why what?” Why was he talking? I couldn't even think, let alone form words.

”Why are you sorry?” he asked.

”We'll talk later,” I told him. ”Right now I just want you to f.u.c.k me.”