Page 10 of Out of Bounds
There he goes again talking to me like I’m stupid at least I’d be able to get the films right and not mash them together.
“This is real life,” he adds as if I don’t know. “The way it looks, one wrong move and you could end up in GITMO.”
“What the hell is that?”
“Guantanamo Bay.”
That does it. A tear runs down my cheek and I wipe it away, willing away the others. The last time I cried in front of him was that whole incident.
I wouldn’t have guessed where life would take me.
I really am in trouble.
Chapter4
Ethan
Iam going straight to hell.
I know I am.
Like always when I get going, I take things way too far. Tonight, is no exception and this is perhaps the worse crazy prank I’ve pulled on Bree.
Prank.
No, I think what I’ve done here is more like punked her on a whole different level and I need to reel it in before it gets out of hand.
We’re both too old for this shit. Well me, anyway. She’s still in her twenties and can claim to youth. I can’t claim to being anything other than an asshole and if she finds out the truth about tonight there is no question of whether she’ll stop speaking to me.
I feel worse when another tear runs down her cheek. That Guantanamo Bay comment really hit me a home run.
I pull out a pack of Kleenex from my pocket and hand it to her.
“Thank you,” she mumbles.
“I’m going to take you home,” I hear myself say. It’s a bad idea but something I probably should do because I’m not sending her out with just anyone dressed like that.
“You’re not going to keep me in?”
“No. I’m sure I can put our differences aside and see what I can do to work something out for you.”
When hope fills her eyes, I really do feel like shit. She’s never looked at me like that before.
“Could you really?”
She’s right to ask when I made her situation sound worst case scenario.
“I’ll do my best.”
“Thank you so much. I would be so grateful, and rest assured I have learned my lesson.”
I don’t doubt that. “I’ll get you something to put on and we’ll get out of here.”
“Thank you.”
I leave her and head back to my office to grab one of my old college sweatshirts.
When I return to her, and she puts it on, the thing looks like a little dress on her. Bree is five feet four a whole foot shorter than me and while she’s built like a Barbie Doll, she’s tiny, especially barefooted.
