Desperate Chances

“Fine. I’ll go. But I can’t stay the whole weekend. I need to be back early on Sunday. I have to finish the article I’ve been working on and get it off to my editor,” I caved. I knew my excuses would never hold up against Riley Walker’s pushing and prodding.

Besides, maybe it would be fun. It had been a long time since I had hung out with my friends. And I loved listening to Generation Rejects.

More importantly, I loved watching Mitch Abrams play.

“Woohoo!” Riley shouted and I grinned.

“Let’s plan to meet at the hotel on Saturday evening. I’m getting into town on Friday afternoon, but Viv says she can’t leave until the next day, right?” Maysie asked and the conversation was steered to finalizing plans.

I got up and headed to the kitchen. I opened the refrigerator and by habit searched for a bottle of wine that I had at one time always kept in the door.

Instead I grabbed the jug of orange juice and poured myself a cup.

“Hand me a soda,” Vivian said, coming into the room.

I passed her the can and closed the refrigerator. Vivian pulled a box of crackers from the pantry and handed me some.

I held them in my hand, not eating. I wasn’t particularly hungry so I put the crackers on the counter.

“I’m so glad you decided to come to the show,” Vivian said.

“I don’t think I was given much of a choice. Can you imagine what Ri would do if I told her I wasn’t coming?” I laughed.

“It wouldn’t have been pretty. But whatever, I’m just happy she got you to come. It’ll be like old times,” Vivian exclaimed, grinning.

Old times.

Not quite.

“Sure. Old times,” I agreed unenthusiastically.

Vivian took a drink of her soda, watching me the whole time. Her phone chirped in her pocket and she fished it out, quickly tapping out a text. When she was finished she looked back at me.

“Well, it could be like old times if you’d stop being so stubborn,” she pointed out.

Her phone beeped again and I was relieved for the distraction.

“I think you’re being summoned,” I said.

Vivian’s face went soft. “Yeah. I’d better go call him.”

When she was gone, I picked up the crackers and ate two of them.

Maybe going to the show this weekend would be a good thing. Maybe I could talk to Mitch.

And maybe I could just go and enjoy myself and not worry about what Mitch Abrams was doing or who he was doing it with.

I could just go and be with my friends and forget about the bullshit.

Yeah.

That sounded like a plan.

An extremely unrealistic plan.





I was heading out to lunch when my phone rang. I was instantly filled with dread, thinking it was most likely my mother.

Could I get away with ignoring it?

There was no way. I’d pay for it in spades later if I dared.

So I pulled out my phone from the depths of my purse and glanced at the display and was surprised to see a name I hadn’t expected.

“Hello?”

“Hey there, girlie. Long time, no talk. I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.” The lazy drawl made me smile.

I chuckled, instantly in a good mood. “I’m not avoiding you, Garrett. You wouldn’t let me anyway.”

“Damn straight. I know where you live,” he teased.

“Now that’s a threat if I ever heard one,” I joked back, enjoying our easy banter. Garrett Bellows was someone I could not speak to in months and pick up the phone and chat like no time had passed. We had always been close and I was thankful that our friendship hadn’t been destroyed during my downward spiral.

Our friendship began during one of the darkest times of my life. I had been horrible, not only to him, but to his girlfriend and my friend, Riley. But somehow they forgave me. Not only that, but our friendship became stronger than ever.

I hadn’t realized how much I missed him until I heard him on the phone. There was something soothing about Garrett’s slow, easy voice.

“No threat. Just a promise,” Garrett replied.

I stopped outside the deli where I typically got a sandwich for lunch, waiting to go inside. It was cold and the air felt like snow, so I tightened the belt of my coat.

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