Page 55 of Hot Mess Express
“Well, I don’t believe that,” he tells me. “I think someone can prove to be more than they seemed in their first impression.”
“This is a really … really longwinded …” I hate how close he’s standing to me. “… and roundabout way to … t-to apologize.”
He comes even closer somehow. “Is that what you think this is? Is that what you want? An apology?”
“I don’t want anything from you.”
“Why don’t I believe that?” He lets out a breath as he looks me over. “I’m not trying to take down any of your walls. I have no strategy. I just …” His gaze drifts down to my lips in thought, then snap back to my eyes. “… want to get to know you better. The real you. The Anthony who fell asleep on my arm in the church … the real Anthony.”
The real Anthony? Who the shit is that?
“Iamthe—This is the … the real …”
“How about this …” He shifts his weight and tilts his head the other way. “Let’s hang out tomorrow. You pick the time and place. Pete and Cody have their own stuff to figure out, and I don’t want to be in the way of that, so I’m free all day. That is … if you don’t have to put on that big hairy costume and dance for kids in front of that burger joint again. How do you see out of it, by the way?” he asks with a sly smile. Is that a dimple popping out of his cheek? “Are there holes in the nostrils or something?”
“I … There’s … I’m not …” I slip out from between the sign and the smoldering look on his face right now. My heart is trying to fly out of my ears for some reason. “I’m busy tomorrow.”
“How about Friday?”
“I’m busy every day, all the days.” I’m backing away from him, leaving him in front of Patsy’s. “All the rest of ‘em.”
“I think it’d be good for us.”
“You and I … whatever this is you’re tryin’ to do … it … it ain’t gonna happen.” Then I’m running off, putting his pretty face and terrifying kindness behind me for good.
14
ANTHONY
I don’t even know where to start.
I’m so disoriented that I try to open the apartment door with the wrong key six times in a row.
Then I’m standing in front of my closet staring at a bunch of shirts with no idea what I’m looking for.
Then I’m in the shower with the water pouring over me and can’t remember if I already shampooed my hair.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Why did I panic like that?
How humiliating, to run away from him like my pants caught fire, giving him that power over me. Now he knows for sure how much he bothers me. I showed my cards. He’s probably smirking proudly to himself right now, sitting in that big house he doesn’t deserve to be in.
Or maybe he’s just hoping I change my mind.
I do gotta ask myself: what harm could hanging with Bridger a little bit really cause? Is he gonna eat me alive?Niceme to death?
The shower curtain sweeps open. “Do you know where I put my pink pussycat curling iron?”
Again, with the boundaries. “Juni, I don’t know where my own ass is. Why would I know where your pink pussycat anything is?”
“Is it true you got fired from the restaurant?”
I glance over my shoulder at her. “Where’d you hear that?”
“From Bonnie, who’d heard it from her husband Kirk, who’d heard it from his pal Harrison, who’d—”
“You’re turnin’ into one of ‘em,” I cut her off. “Stay in Spruce for too long and you start talkin’ about everything and everyone except your dang self. It’s a disease. Besides,” I go on, “don’t trust anything Kirk or Bonnie say. Those two are known for starting all sorts of rumors ‘cause their own lives are boring. You don’t wanna turn into Trailer Park Gossip Barbie, do you?”
