Trenton stood up to hug her, and her smile grew wider. “Hey, T! How’ve you been?”
“Good! Good! Working. You?”
“Great! I’m living in Dallas, now. Working at a PR firm.” Her eyes scanned our table, to Shepley and then to me. “Oh my God! Is this your baby brother? I used to babysit you!”
My eyebrows pulled together. She had double Ds and curves like a 1940s pinup model. I was sure if I had spent any time with her in my formative years, I would have remembered.
Trent smiled. “Travis, you remember Carissa, don’t you? She graduated with Tyler and Taylor.”
Carissa held out her hand, and I shook it once. I put the filter end of a cigarette between my front teeth, and flicked the lighter. “I don’t think I do,” I said, sticking the nearly empty pack in my front shirt pocket.
“You weren’t very old.” She smiled.
Trenton gestured to Carissa. “She just went through a bad divorce with Seth Jacobs. You remember Seth?”
I shook my head, already tired of the game Trenton was playing.
Carissa took the full shot glass that was in front of me and slurped it dry, and then she sidestepped until she was next to me. “I heard you’ve gone through a rough time lately, too. Maybe we could keep each other company tonight?”
By the look in her eyes, I could see she was drunk . . . and lonely. “Not looking for a babysitter,” I said, taking a drag.
“Well, maybe just a friend? It’s been a long night. I came here alone because all of my girlfriends are married now, ya know?” She giggled nervously.
“Not really.”
Carissa looked down, and I felt a small bit of guilt. I was being a dick, and she hadn’t done anything to deserve that from me.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t really wanna be here.”
Carissa shrugged. “Me, either. But I didn’t want to be alone.”
The band stopped playing, and the lead singer began counting down from ten. Carissa looked around, and then back to me, her eyes glossing over. Her line of sight fell to my lips, and then in unison the crowd screamed, “HAPPY NEW YEAR!”
The band played a rough version of “Auld Lang Syne,” and then Carissa’s lips smashed into mine. My mouth moved against hers for a moment, but her lips were so foreign, so different from what I was used to, it only made Abby’s memory more vivid, and the realization that she was gone more painful.
I pulled away and wiped my mouth with my sleeve.
“I’m so sorry,” Carissa said, watching me leave the table.
I pushed through the crowd to the men’s bathroom and locked myself in the only stall. I pulled out my phone and held it in my hands, my vision blurry and the rotten twang of tequila on my tongue.
Abby’s probably drunk, too, I thought. She wouldn’t care if I called. It’s New Year’s Eve. She might even be waiting for my call.
I scrolled over the names in my address book, stopping on Pigeon. I turned over my wrist, seeing the same inked into my skin. If Abby wanted to talk to me, she would have called. My chance had come and gone, and I told her at Dad’s I would let her move on. Drunk or not, calling her was selfish.
Someone knocked on the stall door. “Trav?” Shepley asked. “You okay?”
I unlocked the door and stepped outside, my phone still in my hand.
“Did you call her?”
I shook my head, and then looked to the tile wall across the room. I reared back, and then launched my phone, watching it shatter into a million pieces and scatter on the floor. Some poor bastard standing at the urinal jumped, his shoulders flying up to his ears.
“No,” I said. “And I’m not going to.”
Shepley followed me back to the table without a word. Carissa was gone, and three new shots were waiting for us.
“I thought she might get your mind off things, Trav, I’m sorry. It always makes me feel better to bag a really hot chick when I’ve been where you’re at,” Trenton said.
“Then you haven’t been where I’m at,” I said, slamming the tequila to the back of my throat. I stood up quickly, grabbing the edge of the table for stability. “Time for me to go home and pass out, boys.”
“You sure?” Trenton asked, looking mildly disappointed.
After Trenton got Cami’s attention long enough to say goodbye, we made our way to the Intrepid. Before he started the car, he looked over at me.
“You think she’ll ever take you back?”
“No.”
“Then maybe it’s time you accept that. Unless you don’t want her in your life at all.”
“I’m trying.”
“I mean when classes start. Pretend it’s like it was before you saw her naked.”
“Shut up, Trent.”
Trenton turned over the engine and put the car in reverse. “I was just thinking,” he said, turning the wheel, and then shoving the shifter into drive, “that you were happy when you guys were friends, too. Maybe you could go back to that. Maybe you thinking you can’t is why you’re so miserable.”
“Maybe,” I said, staring out the window.