Page 83 of Dirty Roulette
“Well, babe... I figured you’d get the hint by now.” I look her dead in the eyes. “I’m not interested,” I say.
Autumn and Naomi pull the oh-my-god jaw drop as if they can’t believe the words coming off my lips. I push Brittni’s arms off, and gently stand up, giving her no other choice but to back off.
She flashes me a sour look. “Fine, let’s leave this loser.” There it is. The eye roll complimented with her classic insult. The three of them walk back inside the house into the mesh of people.
I sit back down, pull out my cell, and find myself scrolling to my death. Payton’s social media is a graveyard other than the dirty mirror picture with her dandelion tattoo. It triggers a bitter ache in my chest, staring at her through the screen. I want to touch her, and can’t figure out how to erase the knot of thorns living in the bottom of my gut.
Clicking on the comment box, I type out how gorgeous she is, how much I miss her, and a desperate apology. A pathetic paragraph of emotions piling up. When I finish, I press the backspace button until every letter disappears with nothing left. Guys like me can’t share bottled-up thoughts. Not without someone calling me weak.
Might as well keep the persona ofdon’t fuck with me. It’s better if people see me as the asshole who beats faces in when I’m ticked off.
I watch Jared play another round of beer pong. He’s having a good winning streak, but getting too drunk for my taste tonight.
I need to take a piss and dip. I make my way down the narrow hall, weaseling past people loitering. When I reach the end of the hallway and turn the knob, I’m greeted with Brittni’s sun dress at her ankles. Bent over. Feverish cheeks. A guy has her by the waist, pounding, milking it like there is no tomorrow.
Well... I guess I’m taking a piss at home. Tired as hell, I leave the door wide open and walk off.
Chapter twenty-nine
Payton
There is nothing sadder than plotting out my life like a B-rated horror movie. I always imagined the worst possible outcome, and since Charlie barged into the room with Ryder and I, everything I feared manifested into reality.
Most of Charlie's belongings in the dorm were packed up and she hasn’t been back since. The room is empty, and it makes it a million times harder to gather any courage to take back what I said to Ryder. I’ve plotted dozens of scenarios in trying to fix everything – daydream about how it could be sunshines and daisies but I can’t change anything.
I haven’t eaten much this week and I skipped class for the past three days. My biggest accomplishment was oversleeping.
The one thing Charlie left was the ticket to Noah’s concert on my bed. It gave me a bit of hope she still wanted me as a friend.
I stand in line, surrounded by the pitch blackness of night at the venue. The air was thick with sweat and the pungent aroma of earthyherbals. When I reach the security, I hand them my ticket, and they scan me in. I stroll in and catch Noah leaning with one foot against a brick wall. He scrolls through his phone and picks up his head, spotting me.
“Hey, I didn’t think you would show up.” His almond eyes light up, and the half smile pulls my feet to walk up to him.
I tug on my long sleeves to cover up my hands. Pushing a strand of hair behind my ear I ask, “Is Charlie here?”
He raises a brow and sucks in a deep breath. “She’s been avoiding me all afternoon. I’m not entirely sure if she’s gonna show up.”
“I guess you heard about me and Ryder, then.” I bite my bottom lip.
Noah curls his lips inwards and nods his head. “Yeah, why didn’t you just tell her?” He shrugs his shoulders like it should have been easy.
“I didn’t know how I felt about Ryder... but that doesn’t matter anymore. I ruined that friendship too.”
“I think we both need a drink.” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a green wristband. “Here,” he says. It’s stamped with the VIP and twenty-one label. “Hold out your wrist.”
I do, and he places it around my arm snugly. “Don’t tell anyone, but now you can party. There’s a lounge where you can get drinks.”
“Thanks.” I fiddle with the thick band. “When do you go on?”
“We’re the third opener. So... in about ninety minutes.” He slips his phone into his back pocket and lifts up his chin. When I follow him ahead I spot Omen, Vince, and Tony ushering him to follow them.
“I gotta go. Have fun,” Noah rushes off with the band members.
I found the VIP lounge. The walls are black as night, the floor a rustic wood. Dim orange light bulbs hang from the ceiling on thin wires. They have rows of all sorts of alcohol behind a man with the darkest circles around his eyes. He’s flipping his vape between hisfingers and taking a puff. Smoke pools out of his nose and it's official, his name is now Sleepy Eyes.
“What do you want?” He asks.
“Just a beer is fine.” He snags a red cup and pours me beer from one of the taps.
