Break You (18 page)

Read Break You Online

Authors: Jennifer Snyder

BOOK: Break You
4.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Seriously? You suck,” I said.

“Oh shit, eggs!” Paige shouted as she bolted from where she’d stood to the kitchen.

Eggs. Yuck. Another round of heaving ricocheted through me. Pregnant, yeah right. And then it hit me. Jason and I hadn’t used any protection.

My body broke out into a cold sweat and my heart pounded in my stomach hard and fast. No. There was no way I was pregnant. I was on the pill. But I’d also been taking antibiotics for my sinus infection…which canceled out birth control.

Oh, shit.

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

JASON

 

My job at the golf course had been given to some dude I’d seen around campus and at a few parties. I didn’t give a damn, it was a shit job anyway. My Jeep’s transmission was about to take a dump. Blaire hadn’t returned any of my Facebook messages and had been avoiding me like the plague at Cross Meadows. And Brian was stressing me about my half of the bills.

My life had turned into a fucking country song overnight.

I lay in my bed at the apartment, staring at the ceiling, wondering how I was going to be able to get my shit back in line and quick-like. I needed a new job. I needed money. Gramps’ house was going to be mine and Mom’s salvation, but it wasn’t selling.

The sound of Brian and Sarah crashing through the apartment in a drunken splendor caught my attention. Their hushed voices, and Sarah’s uncontrollable giggling, made me smirk. I jumped out of bed, taking this moment as a chance to really scare the shit out of them, and crept across my room as quietly as I could manage. Pausing at my door, I listened, trying to figure out where they were in the apartment. The sound of a cabinet slamming shut and then the faucet turning on let me know they were in the kitchen. Slowly opening my bedroom door, I inched myself out into the hall. Pausing just before the kitchen, I leaned against the wall and counted to five.

“What the hell are you doing!” I shouted as I jumped out at them.

Sarah screamed bloody murder before she folded over and turned into a puddle on the floor, laughing so hard she snorted. Brain jumped backward at the sink and dropped the glass he held in his hand. It shattered across the linoleum floor, splashing water and glass all over the kitchen.

“What the fuck, man?” Brian asked hotly. His eyes had nearly popped right out of his head. I couldn’t contain my laughter. It bellowed out of me and echoed off the walls, mixing with Sarah’s. “Jesus, dude, you scared the shit out of me!” He grinned.

“How was the party?” I asked, gathering control over myself before Brian came over and beat the shit out of me for making him look like a wuss in front of Sarah.

They’d gone to a party at one of the frat houses, but I hadn’t felt like going. I’d decided to sit home and pout like a freaking baby about the way my life was shifting instead. Yeah, I was becoming
that
loser.

“Nice, man. Kyle Dez brought his guitar and belted out a few awesome tunes. Blake Coleman barfed all over Allison Cambridge—like right in her fucking lap!” Brian said. He cleaned up the glass chunks in the kitchen and mopped up the water before getting another glass. “It was pretty epic, man.”

“Sorry I missed it,” I muttered. I truly was. Why was it the one party I decided to miss ended up being the best one of the year? Not fucking fair. Damn depression all to hell.

“It was great,” Sarah slurred. It came out as one big word and she giggled at the end, making it sound strangled. “You missed it, Jason.”

“Good God, how much did you let her drink?” I asked Brain while I watched Sarah lethargically move about on the floor. She was practically army crawling. “She’s freaking wasted.”

“I didn’t
let
her do anything… She did it all on her own. I don’t control her, man.”

“Right. All I meant is, she’s had way, way too much. Didn’t you even consider cutting her off?” Sarah flopped back down on the floor and pressed her head against the carpet like it was a blanket and abandoned any attempt at moving. “I’m surprised she didn’t puke in your car on the ride here.”

“You and me both.” Brain grimaced while staring at her.

Sarah had passed out on the floor. Right in the middle of the living room. I don’t think I’d ever seen her so wasted before. Normally it was Brian unable to make it to bed and crawling around on the floor through the apartment because he was too drunk to stand. They’d obviously decided to switch roles tonight.

“I guess I’d better haul her ass to bed, right?” Brain asked. He seemed so unsure of what to do with her it was ridiculous.

“Yeah,” I said. “Prop her head up with some pillows, lay her on her side, and make sure you get the puke bucket from in the hall closet.”

It was crazy how I could practically see him soaking up everything I’d just said to him. If they had any kids together in the near future, Brian was going to be the most spastic, funniest parent there ever was.

A smirk twisted my lips. That would be a sight to see. I couldn’t wait.

Grabbing a bag of chips from off the counter, I flopped down on the couch and turned the TV on low. There was no way I could go back to bed now. I hadn’t been sleeping anyway, might as well watch some reruns and eat some junk food. After all, that was the way insomnia was done, right?

Two hours of reruns and nearly half a bag of chips later, I went to my room for my phone. There wasn’t crap on TV and I was dying to see if Blaire had managed to send me a message or post a picture of herself having fun somewhere.

With my phone in hand, I clicked on my Facebook app and started back down the hall toward the living room. While getting comfortable on the couch again, I realized the crazy girl I’d dated a while back, Bailey Green, was online. I grimaced at the little green dot beside her name. She was one of those people who were always on Facebook, apparently even at—I glanced at the top of my phone for the time—2:04 A.M.

Damn it. I was on Facebook at 2:04 A.M.

Now all I needed to become the type of person I hated most was to post an annoying status update that said something along the lines of “Can’t sleep, so annoyed,” to let the entirety of my Facebook friends know two things instantaneously about me: one, I had no flipping life. And two, I was suffering from insomnia.

Scrolling through updates from all the usual people, I frowned and was just about to get off when a single green circle caught my attention. Blaire was on Facebook. My heart began to pound in an unnatural rhythm against my ribcage. A long list of “should I’s” barreled through my mind. Should I send her a message? Should I get off real quick? Should I ignore the fact that I’d noticed she was on? Before I had time to decide on what to do…she messaged me.

Hey. I’m kind of glad you’re on here right now. How are you?

My breath rushed from my lungs all too quickly and I felt lightheaded. She was talking to me. Jesus, I was pathetic.

You’re glad I’m on Facebook at two in the morning? You’d think this would be something of concern, unless this is a regular occurrence for you. Are you an all-nighter Facebook type?

Stuffing my face with another handful of chips, I waited for her response, hoping I wasn’t blowing it by trying to seem humorous.

It’s actually not a normal occurrence for me to be on here this late, or even up at this time of night/morning. I’ve been contemplating something all day and my mind just won’t rest.

I knew the feeling well; it’s why I was up too, but I wasn’t about to delve into the craptasticness that was my life at the moment.

Well, Facebook is good for occupying the mind and killing time. It’s also good for keeping tabs on people without having to let them in on your stalker tendencies. And for uploading pictures and statuses that make people think your life is more interesting than it really is. What did we ever do without it?

I’d hit send before I had time to think about what I’d typed. Great. Now she’d think I was Facebook stalking her and not as interesting as what my page seemed to make me.

LOL. I’m not sure. Listen, I’d like to go on that second date with you, if the offer still stands?

Had I read that right? Was she seriously asking me out on a second date after she’d so coldly rejected me when I’d asked? She’d left me standing in the pouring rain, staring after her retreating form. It had been like a scene from a freaking romance movie.

Name the place and time. I’ll be there.

Damn, I was easy.

What are you doing tomorrow night?

Tomorrow night. I could swing that. I didn’t have a job anymore and I was sure Brian and Sarah wouldn’t miss me.

You mean tomorrow night as in Sunday night or tomorrow night as in tonight, Saturday?

I hit send and hoped she didn’t think I was being a technical ass. I was just giving her hell.

Tonight as in Saturday night, sorry. How about dinner at Verde Guacamole?

She was pulling out all the stops. Verde Guacamole had the best Mexican food, as well as margaritas, I’d ever had the pleasure of ingesting.

Sounds awesome. Did you know Mexican food is a favorite of mine?

Why had I asked that? Of course she didn’t…unless she’d stalked my Facebook page.

I do now. What time works for you? I don’t have to work, so I’m open all night.

There was a sexual innuendo there for the taking, but I didn’t want to press my luck, so I let it slip.

How about seven? Want me to pick you up?

Verde Guacamole was in Coldcreek, but I had no issue with driving to the university to pick Blaire up.

No. We can just meet there. See you at seven. Goodnight.

Goodnight.

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

BLAIRE

 

Verde Guacamole was the only Mexican restaurant in Coldcreek, and just like Jason had said, it was a favorite of mine as well. Glancing in my rearview mirror, I wiped the black eyeliner from under my eyes and ran my fingers through my hair. Letting out a long breath, I swore to myself that I could do this, I was strong. My fingers shook as they gripped the handle of my car door.

What if he freaked out? What if he didn’t believe me?

Those were the two main questions that had festered and grown since holding that little white stick yesterday afternoon and seeing the faint pink plus sign glaring up at me. If I didn’t tell him now, while the information was still new to me, then I might never tell him. I’d become one of those bat-shit crazy women who waited until the kid was nine before they told the father they even had a child together.

I refused to be that woman.

This was why I had contacted Jason through Facebook, why I’d stalked his page practically all afternoon and well into the night, wondering how to ask him out. Initially I had planned on going with a straightforward message that simply said I needed to talk with him and listed a time and place. It had been Paige’s idea and Lauren had seconded it. But it seemed too cryptic and full of mystery to me once I’d gotten sight of his profile pic and stared at that charming smile. I didn’t want to start the evening with him being on edge, wondering what was going on and what had possessed me to contact him in such a way.

I’d sort of failed in that department anyway, because I was positive those thoughts had still run through his head when I’d asked him if the offer for that second date still stood. Oh well. It was said and here I was, sitting in the parking lot, attempting to gather enough courage to go through with telling him I was pregnant.

I was pregnant. Holy hell.

The desire to start my car and burn rubber out of the parking lot was almost too strong to overcome. Gripping the door handle tighter, I took one more glance in the rearview mirror and decided my face looked too pale. Pinching my cheeks to add a bit of color, I slung open my car door and slammed it shut behind me. Scurrying across the parking lot, I beelined it for the brightly painted set of double doors. They were a vibrant shade of green. I guessed this was a marketing/branding point they were trying to drive home—the color green.

I’d come here a million times and never once noticed the color of their doors. My mind was all over the place. Pulling the doors open just enough for me to squeeze through, I stood in place at the oversized tan desk just inside. The scent of spicy Mexican foods mingling in the air caused me to crinkle my nose. I prayed I would be able to make it through this dinner without having to bolt for the nearest restroom. It would ruin Mexican food for me for a while, as well as ruin the night.

“How many?” the host dressed in a tan shirt and black pants asked in a thick accent as he grazed his eyes over me. His hand reached out for a menu from within the clear holder hanging on the wall without removing his eyes from me, as though he’d performed the task a million times.

“I’m meeting someone,” I said. My voice was thick and small. “A guy, can I just check to see if he’s here already?”

The host nodded and made a sweeping gesture with his hand. “Of course.”

Walking past him, I began searching the dining area for Jason. After sweeping my eyes around a few times, I scolded myself for not thinking to look for his Jeep in the parking lot first. On my way back to the front, I saw him walk through the door. He glanced around the place, same as I had, and told the host a similar version of what I’d said. A smile broke out on my face at the sight of him.

Then I remembered this wasn’t a typical date. The news I was about to unload on him was life changing, for both of us.

Jason met my stare as I walked to him. His lips twisted into a lazy smile and he crammed his hands into his front pockets. He was adorable. The threat of tears pricked my eyes and stung the back of my throat.

I would not cry.

“Hey,” he said. “How are you?”

“I’m all right,” I replied, pausing in front of him.

“Table for two, please,” he said, shifting his attention to the host.

Two menus were pulled from the holder and we were motioned to follow to our seats. Once we were seated at a booth near the back of the room, Jason turned his charming smile on me.

Other books

Brotherhood of Blades by Linda Regan
Wired by Sigmund Brouwer
Fortress of Mist by Sigmund Brouwer
The Man From Saigon by Marti Leimbach
Heart Murmurs by R. R. Smythe
Zombie by Oates, Joyce Carol
Pamela Dean by Tam Lin (pdf)
The Other Shoe by Matt Pavelich
Honoring Sergeant Carter by Allene Carter