Beautiful Disaster

  “Stop it, Pidge, I’m sleepin’,” he mumbled, squeezing me against him.

  After several attempts, I finally slid from his grip and sat on the edge of the bed, looking back at his half-naked body draped in covers. I watched him for a moment and sighed. The lines were becoming blurred, and it was my fault.

  His hand slid across the sheets and he touched my fingers. “What’s wrong, Pigeon?” he said, his eyes barely open.

  “I’m going to get a glass of water, you want anything?” Travis shook his head and closed his eyes, his cheek flat against the mattress.

  “Morning, Abby,” Shepley said from the recliner when I rounded the corner.

  “Where’s Mare?”

  “Still sleeping. What are you doing up so early?” he asked, looking at the clock.

  “The alarm went off, but I always wake up early after I drink. It’s a curse.”

  “Me, too,” he nodded.

  “You better get Mare up. We have class in an hour,” I said, turning on the tap, and leaning over to take a sip.

  Shepley nodded. “I was just going to let her sleep.”

  “Don’t do that. She’ll be mad if she misses.”

  “Oh,” he said, standing up. “Better wake her, then.” He wheeled around. “Hey, Abby?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I don’t know what’s going on with you and Travis, but I know that he’s going to do something stupid to piss you off. It’s a tic he has. He doesn’t get close with anyone very often, and for whatever reason he’s let you in. But you have to overlook his demons. It’s the only way he’ll know.”

  “Know what?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at his melodramatic speech.

  “If you’ll climb over the wall,” he answered simply.

  I shook my head and chuckled. “Whatever you say, Shep.”

  Shepley shrugged, and then disappeared into his bedroom. I heard soft murmurs, a protesting groan, and then America’s sweet giggling.

  I swirled the oatmeal around in my bowl, and squeezed the chocolate syrup in as I stirred.

  “That’s sick, Pidge,” Travis said, wearing only a pair of green plaid boxers. He rubbed his eyes and pulled a box of cereal from the cabinet.

  “Good morning to you, too,” I said, snapping the cap on the bottle.

  “I hear your birthday is coming up. Last stand of your teenage years,” he grinned, his eyes puffy and red.

  “Yeah … I’m not a big birthday person. I think Mare is going to take me to dinner or something.” I smiled, “You can come if you want.”

  “All right,” he shrugged. “It’s a week from Sunday?”

  “Yes. When’s your birthday?”

  He poured the milk, dunking the flakes with his spoon, “Not ’til April. April first.”

  “Shut up.”

  “No, I’m serious.” he said, chewing.

  “Your birthday is on April Fools’?” I asked again, raising an eyebrow.

  He laughed. “Yes! You’re gonna be late. I better get dressed.”

  “I’m riding with Mare.”

  I could tell he was being intentionally cool when he shrugged. “Whatever,” he said, turning his back to me to finish his cereal.

  Chapter Four

  THE BET

  “He’s definitely staring at you,” America whispered, leaning back to peek across the room.

  “Stop looking, dummy, he’s going to see you.”

  America smiled and waved. “He’s already seen me. He’s still staring.”

  I hesitated for a moment and then finally worked up enough courage to look in his direction. Parker was looking right at me, grinning.

  I returned his smile and then pretended to type something on my laptop.

  “Is he still staring?” I murmured.

  “Yep,” she giggled.

  After class, Parker stopped me in the hall.

  “Don’t forget about the party this weekend.”

  “I won’t,” I said, trying not to bat my eyes or do anything else ridiculous.

  America and I made our way across the lawn to the cafeteria to meet Travis and Shepley for lunch. She was still laughing about Parker’s behavior when Shepley and Travis approached.

  “Hey, baby,” America said, kissing her boyfriend square on the mouth.

  “What’s so funny?” Shepley asked.

  “Oh, a guy in class was staring at Abby all hour. It was adorable.”

  “As long as he was staring at Abby,” Shepley winked.

  “Who was it?” Travis grimaced.

  I readjusted my backpack, prompting Travis to slide it off my arms and hold it. I shook my head. “Mare’s imagining things.”

  “Abby! You big fat liar! It was Parker Hayes, and he was being so obvious. The guy was practically drooling.”

  Travis’s expression twisted into disgust. “Parker Hayes?”

  Shepley pulled on America’s hand. “We’re headed to lunch. Will you be enjoying the fine cafeteria cuisine this afternoon?”

  America kissed him again in answer, and Travis and I followed behind. I sat my tray between America and Finch, but Travis didn’t sit in his normal seat across from me. Instead, he sat a few seats down. It was then that I realized he hadn’t said much during our walk to the cafeteria.

  “Are you okay, Trav?” I asked.

  “Me? Fine, why?” he said, smoothing the features of his face.

  “You’ve just been quiet.”

  Several members of the football team approached the table and sat down, laughing loudly. Travis looked a bit annoyed as he rolled his food around on his plate.

  Chris Jenks tossed a french fry onto Travis’s plate. “What’s up, Trav? I heard you bagged Tina Martin. She’s been raking your name through the mud today.”

  “Shut up, Jenks,” Travis said, keeping his eyes on his food.

  I leaned forward so the brawny giant sitting in front of Travis could experience the full force of my glare. “Knock it off, Chris.”

  Travis’s eyes bored into mine. “I can take care of myself, Abby.”

  “I’m sorry, I …”

  “I don’t want you to be sorry. I don’t want you to be anything,” he snapped, shoving away from the table and storming out the door.

  Finch looked over at me with raised eyebrows. “Whoa. What was that about?”

  I stabbed a Tater Tot with my fork and puffed. “I don’t know.”

  Shepley patted my back. “It’s nothing you did, Abby.”

  “He just has stuff going on,” America added.

  “What kind of stuff?” I asked.

  Shepley shrugged and turned his attention to his plate. “You should know by now that it takes patience and a forgiving attitude to be friends with Travis. He’s his own universe.”

  I shook my head. “That’s the Travis everyone else sees … not the Travis I know.”

  Shepley leaned forward. “There’s no difference. You just have to ride the wave.”

  After class, I rode with America to the apartment to find Travis’s motorcycle gone. I went into his room and curled into a ball on his bed, resting my head on my arm. Travis had been fine that morning. As much time as we had spent together, I couldn’t believe I didn’t see that something had been bothering him. Not only that, it disturbed me that America seemed to know what was going on and I didn’t.

  My breathing evened out and my eyes grew heavy; it wasn’t long before I fell asleep. When my eyes opened again, the night sky had darkened the window. Muffled voices filtered down the hall from the living room, including Travis’s deep tone. I crept down the hall, and then froze when I heard my name.

  “Abby gets it, Trav. Don’t beat yourself up,” Shepley said.

  “You’re already going to the date party. What’s the harm in asking her out?” America asked.

  I stiffened, waiting for his response. “I don’t want to date her; I just want to be around her. She’s … different.”

  “Different how?” America asked, sounding irritated.


  “She doesn’t put up with my bullshit, it’s refreshing. You said it yourself, Mare. I’m not her type. It’s just not … like that with us.”

  “You’re closer to her type than you know,” America said.

  I backed up as quietly as I could, and when the wooden boards creaked beneath my bare feet, I reached over to pull Travis’s bedroom door shut, and then walked down the hall.

  “Hey, Abby,” America said with a grin. “How was your nap?”

  “I was out for five hours. That’s closer to a coma than a nap.”

  Travis stared at me for a moment, and when I smiled at him, he walked straight toward me, grabbed my hand, and pulled me down the hall to his bedroom. He shut the door, and I felt my heart pounding in my chest, bracing for him to say something else to crush my ego.

  His eyebrows pulled in. “I’m so sorry, Pidge. I was an asshole to you earlier.”

  I relaxed a bit, seeing the remorse in his eyes. “I didn’t know you were mad at me.”

  “I wasn’t mad at you. I just have a bad habit of lashing out at those I care about. It’s a piss-poor excuse, I know, but I am sorry,” he said, enveloping me in his arms.

  I nestled my cheek against his chest, settling in. “What were you mad about?”

  “It’s not important. The only thing I’m worried about is you.”

  I leaned back to look up at him. “I can handle your temper tantrums.”

  His eyes scanned my face for several moments before a small smile spread across his lips. “I don’t know why you put up with me, and I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t.”

  I could smell the mixture of cigarettes and mint on his breath, and I looked at his lips, my body reacting to how close we were. Travis’s expression changed and his breathing staggered—he had noticed, too.

  He leaned in infinitesimally, and then we both jumped when his cell phone rang. He sighed, pulling it from his pocket.

  “Yeah. Hoffman? Jesus … all right. That’ll be an easy grand. Jefferson?” He looked at me and winked. “We’ll be there.” He hung up and took my hand. “Come with me.” He pulled me down the hall. “That was Adam,” he said to Shepley. “Brady Hoffman will be at Jefferson in ninety minutes.”

  Shepley nodded and stood up, digging his cell phone from his pocket. He quickly tapped in the information, sending exclusive text invitations to those who knew about the Circle. Those ten or so members would text ten members on their list, and so on, until the every member knew exactly where the floating fight ring would be held.

  “Here we go,” America said, smiling. “We’d better freshen up!”

  The air in the apartment was tense and buoyant at the same time. Travis seemed the least affected, slipping on his boots and a white tank top as if he were leaving to run an errand.

  America led me down the hall to Travis’s bedroom and frowned. “You have to change, Abby. You can’t wear that to the fight.”

  “I wore a freaking cardigan last time and you didn’t say anything!” I protested.

  “I didn’t think you’d go last time. Here,” she threw clothes at me, “put this on.”

  “I am not wearing this!”

  “Let’s go!” Shepley called from the living room.

  “Hurry up!” America snapped, running into Shepley’s room.

  I pulled on the deep-cut yellow halter top and tight low-rise jeans America had thrown at me, and then slipped on a pair of heels, raking a brush through my hair as I shuffled down the hall. America came out of her room with a short green baby-doll dress and matching heels, and when we rounded the corner, Travis and Shepley were standing at the door.

  Travis’s mouth fell open. “Oh, hell no. Are you trying to get me killed? You’ve gotta change, Pidge.”

  “What?” I asked, looking down.

  America grabbed her hips. “She looks cute, Trav, leave her alone!”

  Travis took my hand and led me down the hall. “Get a T-shirt on … and some sneakers. Something comfortable.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because I’ll be more worried about who’s looking at your tits in that shirt instead of Hoffman,” he said, stopping at his door.

  “I thought you said you didn’t give a damn what anyone else thought?”

  “That’s a different scenario, Pigeon.” Travis looked down at my chest and then up at me. “You can’t wear this to the fight, so please … just … please just change,” he stuttered, shoving me into the room and shutting me in.

  “Travis!” I yelled. I kicked off my heels, and shoved my feet into my Converses. Then I wiggled out of my halter top, throwing it across the room. The first cotton shirt that touched my hands I yanked over my head, and then ran down the hall, standing in the doorway.

  “Better?” I huffed, pulling my hair into a ponytail.

  “Yes!” Travis said, relieved. “Let’s go!”

  We raced to the parking lot. I jumped on the back of Travis’s motorcycle as he ripped the engine and peeled out, flying down the road to the college. I squeezed his middle in anticipation; the rushing to get out the door sent adrenaline surging through my veins.

  Travis drove over the curb, parking his motorcycle in the shadows behind the Jefferson Liberal Arts building. He pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head and then grabbed my hand, smiling as we snuck to the back of the building. He stopped at an open window near the ground.

  My eyes widened with realization. “You’re joking.”

  Travis smiled. “This is the VIP entrance. You should see how everyone else gets in.”

  I shook my head as he worked his legs through, and then disappeared. I leaned down and called into oblivion, “Travis!”

  “Down here, Pidge. Just come in feet first, I’ll catch you.”

  “You’re out of your damn mind if you think I’m jumping into the dark!”

  “I’ll catch you! I promise! Now get your ass in here!”

  I sighed, touching my forehead with my hand. “This is insane!”

  I sat down, and then scooted forward until half of my body was dangling in the dark. I turned onto my stomach and pointed my toes, feeling for the floor. I waited for my feet to touch Travis’s hand, but I lost my grip, squealing when I fell backward. A pair of hands grabbed me, and I heard Travis’s voice in the darkness.

  “You fall like a girl,” he chuckled.

  He lowered my feet to the ground and then pulled me deeper into the blackness. After a dozen steps, I could hear the familiar yelling of numbers and names, and then the room was illuminated. A lantern sat in the corner, lighting the room just enough that I could make out Travis’s face.

  “What are we doing?”

  “Waiting. Adam has to run through his spiel before I go in.”

  I fidgeted. “Should I wait here, or should I go in? Where do I go when the fight starts? Where’s Shep and Mare?”

  “They went in the other way. Just follow me out, I’m not sending you into that shark pit without me. Stay by Adam; he’ll keep you from getting crushed. I can’t look out for you and throw punches at the same time.”

  “Crushed?”

  “There’s going to be more people here tonight. Brady Hoffman is from State. They have their own Circle there. It will be our crowd and their crowd, so the room’s gonna get crazy.”

  “Are you nervous?” I asked.

  He smiled, looking down at me. “No. You look a little nervous, though.”

  “Maybe,” I admitted.

  “If it’ll make you feel better, I won’t let him touch me. I won’t even let him get one in for his fans.”

  “How are you going to manage that?”

  He shrugged. “I usually let them get one in—to make it look fair.”

  “You …? You let people hit you?”

  “How much fun would it be if I just massacred someone and they never got a punch in? It’s not good for business, no one would bet against me.”

  “What a load of crap,” I said, crossing my arms.

  Travis raise
d an eyebrow. “You think I’m yankin’ your chain?”

  “I find it hard to believe that you only get hit when you let them hit you.”

  “Would you like to make a wager on that, Abby Abernathy?” he smiled, his eyes animated.

  I smiled. “I’ll take that bet. I think he’ll get one in on you.”

  “And if he doesn’t? What do I win?” he asked. I shrugged as the yelling on the other side of the wall grew to a roar. Adam greeted the crowd, and then went over the rules.

  Travis’s mouth stretched into a wide grin. “If you win, I’ll go without sex for a month.” I raised an eyebrow and he smiled again. “But if I win, you have to stay with me for a month.”

  “What? I’m staying with you, anyway! What kind of bet is that?” I shrieked over the noise.

  “They fixed the boilers at Morgan today,” Travis said with a smile and a wink.

  A smirk softened my expression as Adam called Travis’s name. “Anything is worth watching you try abstinence for a change.”

  Travis kissed my cheek, and then walked out, standing tall. I followed behind, and when we crossed into the next room, I was startled by the number of people packed together in the small space. It was standing room only, but the shoving and shouting only amplified once we entered the room. Travis nodded in my direction, and then Adam’s hand was on my shoulders, pulling me to his side.

  I leaned into Adam’s ear. “I’ve got two on Travis,” I said.

  Adam’s eyebrows shot up as he watched me pull two Benjamins from my pocket. He held out his palm, and I slapped the bills into his hand.

  “You’re not the Goody Two-shoes I thought you were,” he said, giving me a once-over.

  Brady was at least a head taller than Travis, and I gulped when I saw them stand toe to toe. Brady was massive, twice Travis’s size and solid muscle. I couldn’t see Travis’s expression, but it was obvious that Brady was out for blood.

  Adam pressed his lips against my ear. “You might want to plug your ears, kiddo.”

  I cupped my hands on each side of my head, and Adam sounded the horn. Instead of attacking, Travis took a few steps back. Brady swung, and Travis dodged to the right. Brady swung again, and Travis ducked and sidestepped to the other side.