America sighed. “You’re my best friend. I think I know you better than you know yourself sometimes. I see you two together, and the only difference between me and Shep, and you and Travis, is that we’re having sex. Other than that? No difference.”
“There is a huge, huge difference. Is Shep bringing home different girls every night? Are you going to the party tomorrow to hang out with a guy with definite dating potential? You know I can’t get involved with Travis, Mare. I don’t even know why we’re discussing it.”
America’s expression turned to disappointment. “I’m not seeing things, Abby. You have spent almost every moment with him for the last month. Admit it, you have feelings for him.”
“Let it go, Mare,” Travis said, tightening his towel around his waist.
America and I jumped at the sound of Travis’ voice, and when my eyes met his, I could see the happiness was gone. He walked down the hall without another word, and America looked at me with a sad expression.
“I think you’re making a mistake,” she whispered. “You don’t need to go that party to meet a guy, you’ve got one that’s crazy about you right here,” she said, leaving me alone.
I rocked in the recliner, letting everything that had happened in the last week replay in my mind. Shepley was angry with me, America was disappointed in me, and Travis…he went from being happier than I’d ever seen him, to so offended he was speechless. Too nervous to crawl in bed with him, I watched the clock change from minute to minute.
An hour had passed when Travis came out of his room and down the hall. When he rounded the corner, I expected him to ask me to come to bed, but he was dressed and had his bike keys in his hand. His sunglasses were hiding his eyes, and he popped a cigarette in his mouth before grabbing the knob of the door.
“You’re leaving?” I asked, sitting up. “Where are you going?”
“Out,” he said, yanking the door open, and then slamming it closed behind him.
I fell back in the recliner and huffed. I had somehow become the villain, and had no idea how I’d managed to get there.
When the clock above the television read two A.M., I finally resigned to go bed. The mattress was lonely without him, and the idea of calling his cell kept creeping into my mind. I had nearly fallen asleep when Travis’ motorcycle pulled into the parking lot. Two car doors shut shortly after, and then several pairs footsteps climbed the stairs. Travis fumbled with the lock, and then the door opened. He laughed and mumbled, and then I heard not one, but two female voices. Their giggling was interrupted by the distinct sound of kissing and moaning. My heart sank, and I was instantly angry that I felt that way. My eyes clenched shut when one of the girls squealed, and then I was sure the next sound was the three of them collapsing onto the couch.
I considered asking America for her keys, but Shepley’s door was directly in view of the couch, and I couldn’t stomach witnessing the picture that went along with the noises in the living room. I buried my head under the pillow, and then shut my eyes when door popped open. Travis walked across the room, opened the top night table drawer, picked through his bowl of condoms, and then shut the drawer, jogging down the hall. The girls giggled for what seemed like half an hour, and then it was quiet.
Seconds later, moans, humming and shouting filled the apartment. It sounded as if a pornographic movie was being filmed in the living room. I covered my face with my hands, and shook my head. Whatever lines had blurred or disappeared in the last week, an impenetrable stone wall had gone up in their place. I shook off my ridiculous emotions, forcing myself to relax. Travis was Travis, and we were, without a doubt, friends, and only friends.