Just Roll With It: a Just Us novel (35 page)

Whiskey turns me into a badass dancing fool. I'm not even nervous right now; I would usually be freaking out. I'm moving my body like a boss up on stage and not thinking about anything else. "Fuck it." My new and favorite decision making process. My one thought before doing anything anymore.

I hear the announcer say something, but it's too faint in the background for me to make out. The pounding in my ears makes it hard to hear anything clearly.

When the first drops of cold water land on my face, I know what it is he said. It was time for the wet part of this wet t-shirt contest. I look above me to where the water pours down from an oversized shower head. It feels good, like it's washing all of the bad stuff about me away. The dirt, I guess you could say. It's washing all of my dirt away. If you don't count me dancing on a stage in nothing but a thin white tank top, while water pours down on me, so everybody else can watch and get hornier than they already are, "dirt".

The song ends, and the bright lighting on the stage dims dark. It ends as fast as it began, and I'm left to gather up my own shirt and head back to change out of the wet white tank they've provided.

Once I'm dressed, all of us girls who signed up for the contest are asked to get back on the stage so they can announce the winner. I scan the crowd for Enz and don't see him. I would have thought he would've been up front and cheering for me, but I guess not. The winner is picked by how loud the crowd goes for them. The spotlight hits me, and the place goes nuts. I won. I smile and wink to the crowd and walk away with swagger, but I don't feel as good as I thought I would because Enz wasn't there.

I've looked all around the main area for him, and I still don't find him. It's sobering to feel so utterly lost and alone, and I'm losing whatever high I was riding really quick. The pain of panic hits my gut like burning butterflies. While working its way up to my throat, my search becomes more frantic. Tears are beginning to form in the corners of my eyes when I see him walk through the front doors.

He shows his wristband to the bouncer, then casually walks in and goes over to an empty table where he takes a seat. He crosses his arms, sits back and stares at an empty beer bottle someone had left. He looks up when I sit down next to him.

"Are you done yet?" he asks.

"Yeah it's over. You missed it."

"I saw enough. By the way, when in the hell did you get your nipples pierced?"

I purposely ignore his condescending question.

"I won a hundred and fifty bucks!" I tell him excitedly instead.

"Good for you." he snaps condescendingly.

"What's wrong? And where were you?"

"I needed some air, Bee. You know, I'm so tired of this. You're not acting like you. It's like you've completely lost who you are. You're aware of your existence before there was any Roman, right?"

"Barely," I huff.

"I thought maybe going out would help you snap back."

"It is. I feel better. I really do. I didn't think about him once while I was up there dancing."

"Exactly my point, you shouldn't have to do shit like that in order to not think about him!" He's angry now.

"I'm working on it! This isn't easy, you know. But I am trying now, because of you pushing me out of my bed, I am trying. So thank you!" I say it angrily, but I honestly meant the thank you. "I have to do it a little bit at a time, but I swear those little bits will add up, eventually. It takes time to get over the love of your life."

"Yeah, I know." I know he's talking from experience. He loved Marty.

"Look, let's just go. maybe this was a bad Idea." Enzo confesses, defeat lacing his eyes.

"Absolutely not." I jump up aggressively and accidentally knock my chair backward to the floor. "I have more money than I came here with and we are going to spend it. And we are going to have fun. And we are going to dance. And we are not going to think about anything while we dance, except for whether or not my butt looks good in these jeans."

"What about the blond girl over there's butt? Am I allowed to think about her butt?" He points to a cute blond at the bar.

"Absolutely!" I shout, and throw my arms in the air.

"It's okay, you know. Maybe he was supposed to be your first mistake."

We're both lying down on our backs, facing the ceiling of our hotel room. With our arms crossed over our chests, we look like we belong in a couple of coffins instead of these hard as crap twin beds.

"First, in a long line of many, at this point."

"Have you learned from them yet?" He yawns and rolls over to face me."

"Doesn't seem like it," I admit.

"Sure you have. You've learned to deal. You learned you can beat the panics."

"You know nothing, John Snow." I roll over on my side, now facing him back.

"See, you're even quoting a badass Wildling, who also knew better than to wear a wishbone where her backbone needs to be. She knew she had to deal with her own shit before getting tore up over John Snow." He's pointing at me like he makes some great point.

"Yeah, and she still dies. And they never were able to really be together. Their love story was the absolute, most devastating, storyline in the entire show, and you're using it to try and what? Make me feel better? You really suck at this. What a terrible analogy." I start laughing at him, and then he joins in to laugh at himself with me.

"Guess so. I've never had to do this with you before. I don't have practice giving you love advice. Have a panic attack and I got you, but have a broken heart, and I spew grim analogies. Now you know to talk to Willow about girl stuff instead."

"I don't want to talk about it at all, to anyone. It hurts too much."

"It hurts because it happened. It was real, Bee. It hurts because it mattered to you. Don't give yourself up by pushing parts of you away. The less you talk about it, the less real it becomes, until it's all gone. I know it sucks now, but you're still going to want to remember someday. You'll remember how you once knew what a good love felt like."

"Well, Holy shit, John Snow, it looks as if you know a few things after all. When did you get so wise?"

"When did you become a topless dancer?" he shoots back.

I throw the remote at him. He throws it back but lacks any real effort.

"I missed my finals," I admit to him softly, as the embarrassment creeps in.

"Goddamnit, Bee!" he yells, then he puts his face in his hands and groans.

"I know."

"Listen, he didn't end up being the hero in your story. I get that. He's made his point. But, Bee, what you don't get is how it's going to haunt him, because you were his. You will move on, and you will find your hero someday and get your happy ending, and he'll still be dwelling on how he pushed his away."

"Enz?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you come over here and sleep with me tonight?"

"We've talked about this," he warns.

"Just to sleep. I could really use some cuddling is all."

He sighs. "Sure."

He shuffles over to my bed and gets in behind me. After a few seconds of trying but not getting comfortable, he gives in and puts his arm around my middle. It feels a lot like love. Unconditional and purely platonic. This is what the reality of my love story is right now. I decide I can live with that.

"I wasn't topless. If you would've stayed there, you would know." I clear my throat. "It was only a very wet tank top." The bed moves from the shake of his body as he silently laughs.

"And, Enz?"

"Yeah?"

"Happy birthday."

"Thanks, Bee."

"And, Enz?"

"Yeah?" he answers in a more reluctant tone.

"I got them pierced in Chicago when I went for the paintball thing."

He makes a loud groaning noise, face deep into his pillow.

"And, Enz?"

"For the love of Thor, shut up and go to sleep." 

I realized I deserved better. I had some help getting to my conclusion, but I did. From then on, things began to change.

I tried to get my grades back up, but the effort was too last ditch and I failed my classes regardless, so I signed up for summer. Classes start in a week.

It's been three weeks since the fire pit party that unleashed my ultimate pity party, it feels like it's been ages, though. The progress I've made just in the past week makes the pit party feel like a lifetime ago. It was a lifetime ago because it was a different life. A different me.

I'd like to say I didn't recognize the person I was being, but I'd be lying. The truth is, the pain she carries is still very familiar. The only difference is now I've chosen to still be the same person I was when I was with Roman, the me that I felt was true and the me that I like. Only this time, I can be her without him.

Before, I didn't think I could ever be her again. I thought she had to die when she lost his love, and maybe a part of me did, but why does it have to be exclusive?

I found myself when I was in Roman's world, so what? Finders keepers. I found myself so I get to keep myself. He doesn't lay the sole claim on me anymore. He chose to give the privilege away. 

I'm sitting at home, watching TV alone and filling my face with cookie dough ice cream, when I get a call from my old neighbors who live next door to my mom's. They're a cute couple in their thirties who have always been nice to me. They are going on a second honeymoon and want to know if I can house-sit for them during their seven-day cruise vacation. Doesn't sound like a bad gig. I could use some time away from my apartment.

I arrive there the next morning to go over the details. It's pretty basic, they'll leave money for food and my job is to sleep there and take care of the dog. I definitely could use the money, and it's too easy of a job to pass up, so I take it without a second thought.

"I have concerns."

"Of course you do."

I'm sitting at the kitchen table at my mom's house the next day when she decides to have an opinion on the whole thing.