Page 10 of Break You

“Okay...” Not what I had anticipated. Not even close. I opened my mouth, but he reached out and pressed his index finger to my lips. The unexpected contact causing my body to jolt as a shockwave of awareness raced through me. “...but don’t expect me to make this easy for you.”

I shook my head, moving my lips away from his touch, ignoring the way I continued to buzz from the contact.

“Why bother then?” I searched his face for clues, but found him inscrutable—impossible to read.

“I’m doing this for no other reason than for my own entertainment. Plus, you’ll owe me.” The gleam in his eye made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on edge.

“Owe you what?” The look on his face as he spoke his next words chilled me to my core.

“That’s the beauty of it, Angry Girl. Whatever the fuck I want.”

Xavier

I was pumped and on a mission to get fucked up, and conveniently, had the excuse of Drew’s birthday to do exactly that. Not that I needed an excuse, but at least this way I wouldn’t attract unwanted attention or have to explain my hangover the next day.

My vibe took an instant nosedive when Fox let slip where we were going.

“Rollergirl? You have to be fucking kidding me. Isn’t that the place where all the waitresses skate around dressed like eighties’ chicks?”

“Yup, I believe that’s exactly the place... but I don’t get why you’re so opposed to the idea.”

“Because it’s tacky and corny as fuck.”

“Okay sure, but the bottom line is hot girls on skates in short shorts. Plus, beer and food. I’m really not seeing too much to complain about in that equation. Stop being an old man and get into the spirit of the thing before you ruin the night for everyone. Here, take this. You need it more than I do.” He handed me his blunt. “Now chill the fuck out.”

“Oh, how very altruistic of you. Thanks man. Also, go fuck yourself.”

Fox’s face just about split in two with his triumphant grin.

Kane sauntered into the room looking between the two of us. “Why do you look like you’re at a funeral, while he...” he motioned with his chin to Fox, “...looks like he just worked out how to suck his own dick?”

“He hasn’t had enough weed. I’ve arguably had too much. That’s pretty much it. It’s called Fox’s theory of relativity. I’m relatively fucked up. He’s relatively straight. So, basically, he needs to smoke, drink and be merry, and I need to eat several bags of Doritos, and we’ll be good.” God, he was a dick. An amusing dick, but a dick all the same.

Kane looked between the two of us again, then raised a questioning eyebrow Fox’s way. I shrugged. I had nothing to say. Although we were friends and Cygnus brothers, I hadn’t known Fox as long as I had some of the other guys, and I was still trying to figure him out. He was smart as balls, his GPA told me that, and the fact that he barely even bothered to show up to class or open a book, then smashed it out of the park whenever he turned in a paper. The rest of the time the guy could barely walk and chew gum, which had me questioning his utility in Cygnus. Drew had talked me down from the ledge at several points on that issue, but I was yet to be fully convinced.

Kane was a lot less of a skeptic than I was.

“Well if you can’t beat them, get fucked up with them, I say. Where’s the bottle?”

* * *

When we arrived at Rollergirl, nobody could have accused any of us of being relatively straight, yet the venue still honored the booking Drew had made—because he was exactly the kind of guy who’d book his own birthday drinks at a tittie bar, or whatever the fuck it was—probably because he’d guaranteed them we’d be spending an obscene amount of money.

That must have been the same reason that they barely glanced at any of our IDs. Fact was that if they had, they would still have let us in. All of them were impeccable. I even had a birth certificate to match mine, if it came down to the come down. Though I knew that tonight, it wouldn’t.

As we got settled down in our booth, I took a good look around the place, confirming my suspicions that it was everything I hated in a bar—or anywhere. As I’d said earlier, it was an ultra-tacky theme bar. No other word for it. Yes, there were servers getting their Rollergirl on, quad skates and tiny shorts and all, but even the novelty of that did nothing to endear the place to me. In fact, the whole thing left me cold.

But I did want to get blasted, and I did want to help Drew celebrate, so it was what it was. As long as the guys weren’t expecting me to do something equally stupid on my birthday, we were good. No. As long as they had alcohol at this stupid bar, we were good. I picked up one of the vinyl-coated menus from the table and perused it. Yes, they had alcohol. No, it wasn’t good. Yes, it would get me wasted. Job done.

When our waitress approached our table I didn’t even bother looking up. We’d tip generously, and other than that, I saw no need for any form of pleasantries.

“Hi, and welcome to Rollergirl, my name’s Rocky, and I’ll be your server for the even—”

No. Fucking. Way. I slammed the menu down on the table, and watched as five pairs of eyes, including Rocky’s swung my way to stare at me.

“Okay. No. Drew, bro, I wanted to be there for you to celebrate, but I’m tapping out. I’ll catch you guys tomorrow.”

Drew looked at me like I’d kicked his puppy. “What, man? Why?”

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