turned away, then grabbed Randy by the arm. “Come on, asshole. You’re done for the night.”
He lifted, and half-dragged Randy through the crowd and away from us.
I turned back to Kelly, my eyes wide. “Oh. My. God. You didn’t just do that.”
She grinned.
I grabbed her by the shoulders and hugged her. “Kelly, you are the best friend ever! I love you!”
But my eyes darted back toward the door, where Wade the bouncer was dragging Randy. For the thousandth time I found myself wishing I’d reported him when it happened.
I don’t really know why I didn’t.
I’d briefly dated Randy last spring, after Dylan and I had our last fight. It was a stupid fight. I was drunk, and had been agonizing over the danger he’d been in. I said some things, things I regret. That I was afraid it wasn’t working any more, that the distance and danger was ruining us. I mean, it had been a long time since we’d seen each other. A long time. And so much had happened.
Dylan’s eyes went cold without any warning. I can’t even describe what his look did to me without breaking into tears. It was a look of incredible sadness, and worse, of contempt and disgust. He disconnected the Skype connection without a word. No warning, no word, no nothing.
I tried to call him back, but there was no answer.
The next day, I tried again. His Skype account was gone. So was his Facebook account. He didn’t just de-friend me… he deleted the account entirely. He didn’t answer my emails or letters, and until this week it was like he had just … disappeared off the face of the earth.
After a month of pure devastation, Kelly started urging me to date again. And I tried. I really did. I went out a couple times with Randy. Then one night, Randy and I were having drinks, and then we had a couple too many. And somehow I found myself back in his room, and he tried to make out with me. I wasn’t ready. Not by a long shot. But the next thing I knew, Randy had shoved me down on the bed and was trying to rip off my shirt. I tried to fight him off, but I could barely move.
I screamed, and it was pure luck that his roommates were coming back in right at that moment. They pulled him off me, and I stumbled out, crying.
It would never have happened if Dylan hadn’t cut me off so suddenly.
It would never have happened if I hadn’t drunk too much.
“You okay?” Kelly asked.
I looked over at her and nodded.
“I was just thinking about Dylan, and … and everything.”
“Oh, shit,” Kelly said. “You’re still head-over-heels for him, aren’t you?”
“No,” I said, at the same time I nodded.
Kelly grinned. “Try that again.”
“Oh, shit, Kelly. I still love him.”
“You know he was a complete asshole to cut you off like that.”
“I know.”
“He didn’t give you a chance to explain. It was just stupid. He let his stupid male pride kill the best thing he ever had.”
I nodded. This wasn’t helping. Not. One. Bit.
“You’re going to try to get him back, aren’t you?”
“No,” I said.
“I don’t believe you. You’re lying to me, Alex.”
“No. Not a chance. He blew it, Kelly. He broke my heart. I can’t go back there. Never. Not a chance.”
“Sure, Alex, sure. Whatever.”
She went back to her drink, and I looked in the mirror over the bar. Was I lying to her? To myself?
I didn’t know the answer to that.
CHAPTER FOUR
Bring it, jarhead (Dylan)
Eight a.m. Monday morning. It was time for my torture session at the VA.
When I was first injured, they evac’d me to the hospital in Bagram, a sprawling affair hidden behind blast walls and littered with shipping containers and temporary facilities. I saw it briefly from the doors of the hospital, still somewhat conscious. I remember watching the hospital flying by below me, and realizing that I was probably going home.
I remember being wheeled into the ER, but nothing after that until I woke up in Germany. There, the doctors told me
He lifted, and half-dragged Randy through the crowd and away from us.
I turned back to Kelly, my eyes wide. “Oh. My. God. You didn’t just do that.”
She grinned.
I grabbed her by the shoulders and hugged her. “Kelly, you are the best friend ever! I love you!”
But my eyes darted back toward the door, where Wade the bouncer was dragging Randy. For the thousandth time I found myself wishing I’d reported him when it happened.
I don’t really know why I didn’t.
I’d briefly dated Randy last spring, after Dylan and I had our last fight. It was a stupid fight. I was drunk, and had been agonizing over the danger he’d been in. I said some things, things I regret. That I was afraid it wasn’t working any more, that the distance and danger was ruining us. I mean, it had been a long time since we’d seen each other. A long time. And so much had happened.
Dylan’s eyes went cold without any warning. I can’t even describe what his look did to me without breaking into tears. It was a look of incredible sadness, and worse, of contempt and disgust. He disconnected the Skype connection without a word. No warning, no word, no nothing.
I tried to call him back, but there was no answer.
The next day, I tried again. His Skype account was gone. So was his Facebook account. He didn’t just de-friend me… he deleted the account entirely. He didn’t answer my emails or letters, and until this week it was like he had just … disappeared off the face of the earth.
After a month of pure devastation, Kelly started urging me to date again. And I tried. I really did. I went out a couple times with Randy. Then one night, Randy and I were having drinks, and then we had a couple too many. And somehow I found myself back in his room, and he tried to make out with me. I wasn’t ready. Not by a long shot. But the next thing I knew, Randy had shoved me down on the bed and was trying to rip off my shirt. I tried to fight him off, but I could barely move.
I screamed, and it was pure luck that his roommates were coming back in right at that moment. They pulled him off me, and I stumbled out, crying.
It would never have happened if Dylan hadn’t cut me off so suddenly.
It would never have happened if I hadn’t drunk too much.
“You okay?” Kelly asked.
I looked over at her and nodded.
“I was just thinking about Dylan, and … and everything.”
“Oh, shit,” Kelly said. “You’re still head-over-heels for him, aren’t you?”
“No,” I said, at the same time I nodded.
Kelly grinned. “Try that again.”
“Oh, shit, Kelly. I still love him.”
“You know he was a complete asshole to cut you off like that.”
“I know.”
“He didn’t give you a chance to explain. It was just stupid. He let his stupid male pride kill the best thing he ever had.”
I nodded. This wasn’t helping. Not. One. Bit.
“You’re going to try to get him back, aren’t you?”
“No,” I said.
“I don’t believe you. You’re lying to me, Alex.”
“No. Not a chance. He blew it, Kelly. He broke my heart. I can’t go back there. Never. Not a chance.”
“Sure, Alex, sure. Whatever.”
She went back to her drink, and I looked in the mirror over the bar. Was I lying to her? To myself?
I didn’t know the answer to that.
CHAPTER FOUR
Bring it, jarhead (Dylan)
Eight a.m. Monday morning. It was time for my torture session at the VA.
When I was first injured, they evac’d me to the hospital in Bagram, a sprawling affair hidden behind blast walls and littered with shipping containers and temporary facilities. I saw it briefly from the doors of the hospital, still somewhat conscious. I remember watching the hospital flying by below me, and realizing that I was probably going home.
I remember being wheeled into the ER, but nothing after that until I woke up in Germany. There, the doctors told me
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