Page 59 of Tomorrow Belongs to Us
Some fucking date. She didn’t waste any time.
She thinks you’re married, bozo.
But as soon as I step inside, the heat hits me, warm and sweet. Then the noise; the chatter and low rumbling of laughter. I scan my gaze around the large open bar, scouting for Megan. I find her in less than a minute, locating her with almost GPS precision. It's as if I'm programmed into her frequency.
Bracing myself I walk towards her. Another woman and two guys are with her—one has triple chin and the other is heavily inked. Both are big and have beer bottles in their hands. They don’t look like students to me and it wouldn’t surprise me that they’re here to try their luck with the clientele.
“Hey.” I tap her gently on the shoulder. She lifts her head, swivels her neck, recognition and surprise flicker in her eyes, and then her lips form into a thin line. Just as I predicted, she’s not happy to see me.
“Can we talk, please?” It sounds like a weak request, and I immediately feel outnumbered, sensing hostility around me.
“Hey.” A rough tap on my shoulder forces my attention to the side. “Hey, buddy, you’re interrupting us.”
“I’ll be gone as soon as I’ve had my say.” I turn back to Megan and everyone falls silent. I'm not going to leave until I've had my say.
“I told you I didn’t want to see you again,” she snarls. “Why do you keep stalking me?”
I'm taken aback by her accusation. She’d always been such a meek and gentle girl at school and it surprises me, how much anger comes from her. “I don’t stalk.” The words grind out. I didn’t mean to be angry, but seeing her here with other guys, having fun, irks me. I remind myself that I’m here for a reason. “I only want a chance to explain.”
“Get lost, buddy? Can’t you see she’s not interested?” The man behind me pokes his hard finger straight into my shoulder, near where I’ve been shot, and pain shoots through me like a spear.
“Don’t fucking touch me again,” I growl, trying not to look at his heavy chin.
“Fuck you, asshole.” But then recognition dawns on the man’s face. “You’re the… the …” He turns to his friend. “He’s that guy, the college teacher in that shooting.”
I ignore him and plead with Megan. “Give me five minutes of your time. That’s all I’m asking for. Please.”
It seems to be enough to embarrass her. “I wish you’d leave me alone.”
“Hear me out, and I will.” I take a step away, hoping she’ll hop off that stool and follow me outside, but I accidentally jostle the tattooed guy. He’s sitting on a different table but it’s so fucking close, it’s like they shoved both tables together.
“Look, buddy. I don’t care if you’re on TV or some hotshot, I don’t care what you did, but this lady doesn’t want to talk to you, so why don’t you piss off?” he growls.
I ball my hands. “Why don’t you?” What this asshole needs is for me to shove my fist down his mouth. I can’t believe that Megan’s on a date with him.
The man sets down his beer bottle, his nostrils flare and he pushes me, jabbing me in my injured shoulder again. I see red and I'm tempted to swing a punch at his face, but I can’t lose my cool no matter how much I hate that he's with Megan.
“Stop!” she cries out, pushing herself between us.
“Grow up and stop manhandling one another!” her friend yells. I stare at the short, plump woman, and a flicker of remembrance goes through me. I know her. I glance at Megan, because time is running out. “Please.” I'm desperate for her to hear my side of things, and in a pathetic last-ditch effort, I urge her. “I’m in the middle of a divorce. I was going to tell you everything, eventually, when the time was right.”
“Do you expect me to believe that?”
“It’s true.”
“Why don’t you piss off?” says the neanderthal who just poked me. I turn around and resist the urge to hit him, even though he’s asking for it.
“Why don’t you sink back into the swamp you crawled out from?” I holler back.
Megan’s eyes are round and fearful. “If you really want to help me, you should leave.”
I survey the environment. We've attracted attention. People are looking our way and whispering.
“Sir, you need to leave.” A man smartly dressed in a suit beckons for me to follow him. Since when did they have bouncers at a place like this?
Hell.
I shove my hands into my pockets, give Megan one final parting look, and leave. I’ve tried and failed, and there’s nothing else I can do.
