Finch shook his head when I sat in the desk beside him. I knew that I looked awful; I barely had the energy to change clothes and brush my teeth. I had only slept an hour the night before, unable to shake the sight of the red lipstick on Travis’ mouth or the guilt over Shepley and America’s break up.
America chose to stay in bed, knowing once the anger subsided, depression would set in. She loved Shepley, and although she was determined to end things because he had picked the wrong side, she was prepared to suffer the backlash of her decision.
After class, Finch walked with me to the cafeteria. As I had feared, Shepley was waiting at the door for America. When he saw me, he didn’t hesitate.
“Where’s Mare?”
“She didn’t go to class this morning.”
“She’s in her room?” he said, turning for Morgan.
“I’m sorry, Shepley,” I called after him.
He froze and wheeled around, with the face of a man that had reached his limit. “I wish you and Travis would just get your shit together! You’re a goddamn tornado! When you’re happy, it’s love and peace and butterflies. When you’re pissed, you take the whole fucking world down with you!”
He stomped away and I exhaled the breath I was holding. “That went well.”
Finch pulled me into the cafeteria. “The whole world. Wow. Think you could work your voodoo before the test on Friday?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Finch chose a different table, and I was more than happy to follow him there. Travis sat with his frat brothers, but he didn’t get a tray and he didn’t stay long. He noticed me just as he was leaving, but he didn’t stop.
“So America and Shepley broke up, too, huh?” Finch asked while he chewed.
“We were at Shep’s last night and Travis came home with Megan and…it was a mess. They took sides.”
“Ouch.”
“Exactly. I feel terrible.”
Finch patted my back. “You can’t control the decisions they make, Abby. So I guess this means we get to skip the Valentines thing at Sig Tau?”
“Looks that way.”
Finch smiled. “I’ll still take you out. I’ll take you and Mare both out. It’ll be fun.”
I leaned on his shoulder. “You’re the best, Finch.”
I hadn’t thought about Valentine’s, but I was glad I had plans. I couldn’t imagine how miserable I would feel spending it with America alone, hearing her rant about Shepley and Travis all night. She would still do that—she wouldn’t be America if she didn’t—but at least it would be a limited tirade if we were in public.
The weeks of January passed, and after a commendable but failed attempt by Shepley to get America back, I saw less and less of both him and Travis. By February, they stopped coming to the cafeteria all together, and I only saw Travis a handful of times on my way to class.
The weekend before Valentine’s Day, America and Finch talked me into going to the Red, and the entire drive to the club, I dreaded seeing Travis there. We walked in, and I sighed with relief to see no sign of him.
“First rounds on me,” Finch said, pointing out a table and sliding through the crowd to the bar.
We sat down and watched as the dance floor went from being empty to overflowing with drunken college students. After our fifth round, Finch pulled us to the dance floor, and I finally felt relaxed enough to have a good time. We giggled and bumped against each other, laughing hysterically when a man swung his dance partner around and she missed his hand, sliding across the floor on her side.
America raised her hands above her head, shaking her curls to the music. I laughed at her signature dance face and then stopped abruptly when I saw Shepley walk up behind her. He whispered something in her ear and she flipped around. They traded words and then America grabbed my hand, leading me to our table.
“Of course. The one night we go out, and he shows up,” she grumbled.