Flipping Coins

Ryan and I unwillingly got out of the car since we weren’t exactly cheering for more comments about how we were “in puppy love” or some wild claim like that. I was particularly anxious to get out because Brendon had enough reason to avoid returning the feelings that I held for him in the first place. It didn’t help if others made false accusations between me and one of his best friends.

Dan, Dan’s female co-worker, Zack, and Zack’s wife had not come with us to the club because of reasons beyond our knowledge. That left Grey, Jon, Spencer and Gretel, Brendon, Ryan, and myself. (…well duh I’m included.)

While making our way to the club, I trotted beside Jon. I continued to avoid Ryan and Brendon all together until we were inside the beating structure that echoed with a faintly catchy song. The tune already made my foot beg to tap along with the beat.

There were tons upon tons of people already crowding us, and that was just the entryway. I couldn’t hear a word anyone was saying, but only the voice of Rihanna blaring out of a numerous amount of separated speakers. Gretel was dragging an unhappy Spencer Smith to the dance floor while Jon and Grey had already gone off on their own, most likely to find two unfortunate girls to tango with. Ryan and Brendon remained next to me, studying the club and taking in the scene.

Trying to ignore the top two people on my People I Need to Avoid list, I scooted past the thicket of bouncing people and headed for the bar at the end of the sea of swaying bodies.

Two more songs and ten sore toes later, I finally stepped onto the neon platform, slumping onto one of the stools and searching the swerving crowd.

I spotted Jon near the back of the club, whispering something into a ditsy blonde’s ear while intimately securing a hand across her slender waistline. Grey was nowhere in sight, but then again he was probably grinding up on some poor girl in the middle of the crowd of dancing people. Ryan was still standing next to the entryway, looking uncomfortable and searching around for something or someone to rid of the awkward state he was under. But Brendon wasn’t there anymore….

And that’s when I saw him. Brendon. Was. Dancing. With. Her.

I had no clue who she was, but all in honesty, she was quite stunning. She had plush, lengthy golden hair that fell past her shoulders and swayed fluently with her dancing motions. Her body was perfected: curvy, tall, and slender just like that of a model. Everything about her was attractive, down to her graceful swinging of hips.

Brendon had dated only about six girls in his whole life, but I could tell lately, before the whole mess, that is, that Brendon yearned for a romantic relationship with someone. I wanted that someone to be me, but I could see that it was going to take a lot more effort to make this even close to possible.

Seeing the way Brendon tightly gripped her against him as she swayed so perfectly to the bass of the song was almost maddening. Brendon was practically gawking while he was laughing at something she had whispered in his ear. She held his neck closely, so that their mouths were only a fingernail apart.

Too sick and filled with green envy to look at the beautiful duo any longer, I turned my back on the dance floor and caught the bartender’s attention.

“Gimme a double shot of vodka with lime, and be speedy about it, please,” I commanded the buff bartender in a hurried voice. The faster I had my alcohol; the better this night would disappear into tomorrow.

I was setting a bad example, since I wasn’t even 21 yet, but I didn’t care, and the bartender didn’t ask for identity. I needed something to take my mind off of that damn boy, anyways.

Once my shot was in hand, I chunked it down my throat, not noticing the burn or the fact that the rave song had ended. Slamming the empty shot-glass down against the bar’s table, I looked back to the bartender and ordered simply, “Another.”

Someone chuckled from behind me, and I turned to see Brendon staring at me with a laughing expression. Holding off the shiver itching to crawl up my spine, I tried to remain calm.

“Not planning on taking it easy, eh?” Brendon questioned with a grin. His mood change from the grouchy, impatient boy in the parking lot to the giddy, humorous man laughing in front of me had taken me by surprise, but I had a good idea as to the cause of the mood swing.

I scowled, turning back around as he took a seat in the stool next to me. “Why should I take it easy? And buzz off. You’re not my mom.”

After a silent moment of no comments on Brendon’s end, I dared to turn my eyes back to him. I was quite shocked to see that Brendon’s expression changed to be filled with a sudden wrath.

He glared lividly at me as he snapped, “You said that last time, and then look how you ended up! Gimme a fucking break, Emie. I think we both know how your night is going to end up after these few harmless shots!” He flicked the empty shot-glass I had downed as if it were evidence.

A rush of blood warmed my entire face as I adjusted my position to turn and gaze at Brendon with shock. Why would he dare bring up that subject? Could no one get the hint that it was forbidden in my book? And why the hell was he yelling at me when he was half of the blame, too?

And…and why had those words been so painful?

Instead of remaining closed mouth with hurt and chagrin like any wise person would do, I shot back with rage, “I do recall that I’m not the one who is fluent in shots. Gun shots, at least. I’m not the one sitting here with a bullet hole in my chest, am I? I’m not the one with the problem.”

Brendon’s nose flared with fury as he flew to his feet, a crazed flame sparking within his dark eyes. Without a seconds-worth of hesitation, he shouted back, “You want to talk about problems? Okay, Emie. We can sure as hell talk about problems. How about your fucking dad?"

My eyes widened, and I couldn’t believe he was going to resort to that subject. It was beyond cruel. It was…inhumane.

“Where is he, Emie?” he asked me with an evil smirk.

“Shut the hell up!” I screamed back, flying to my feet too. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, Brendon!”

“Huh?” Brendon questioned once more, his smirk deepening when he saw he was getting to me. “What’d you say? He is gone? That’s right! And it was all because of you! Not because of mom; not because the marriage wasn’t working out. No, just you. He couldn’t handle your good-for-nothing ass! And I can’t believe I didn’t understand why before this moment, but now I can see crystal clear.”

By the end of his beyond agonizing words, Brendon had marched right up to my face, eyeing me with disgust. His words muted to a smug whisper in my ear….

“You are nothing but a waste of human. I don’t know why I even bother.”

My eyes became glossy with tears, and my face broke into one of pure suffering. I wasn’t hurt.

I was absolutely heartbroken.

Just like in the dramatic movies, the music had stopped mid-way through our display of resentment, and everyone in that building was staring at us.

My blurry vision focused back on Brendon’s temper-holding eyes and, looking at him dead-on, I whispered, “My father never hurt me more than you have, Brendon.”

With that, I pushed past Brendon and sprinted the hell out of there, trying to mute my wails as best I could with my hand.

Once I had stumbled out of the club and into the Vegas night, I dropped to my knees and began to scream with tears. My chest racked uncontrollably and random gasps escaped my lips. I began to shake uncontrollably, maybe with hysteria.

This time, I wanted to pass out. I wanted to faint and get away from all of this madness. But, of course, I didn’t.

Everyone from our group flew after me, all except for Brendon, of course.

Gretel draped an arm over my hunched-over frame. She soothingly whispered something to me, but I was too rabid to pay any mind.

There was an argument of whispers from behind me, and soon Gretel’s touch and words were gone.

The next thing I realized, Ryan was carrying me, bridal-style, to his car. He placed me in his backseat carefully before hopping into the driver’s seat and starting the car.

I don’t remember the ride home, but somewhere along the way, I did pass out.

Brendon should have been repulsive to me now. Any feelings of lust should have been extinguished by the harsh words he said to me. But the sad truth was: I still wanted him. Badly.