Sequel: Two Lives As One
Status: Check out Two Lives As One! Picks up at Christmas time after the events in this story :)

One Life To Live

A Mix Up of Epic Proportions

I slammed her door shut, my ego completely shot as I hastened down the stairs not looking at the steps. My mouth was spewing out curses fast and I periodically wiped my hands on my jeans coming to the conclusion that I wasn’t wearing a shirt. Fuck. How did I forget my shirt?

Whatever. Who cared if I wasn’t wearing a shirt? It was eight o’clock on a college campus, anyway. It’s not like there was anyone up at eight o’clock on a Saturday morning after a night of partying on a Friday night. But there was me, of course. Checking out of my girlfriend’s – well, not entirely since I’d managed to botch that – dorm room. What was really bothering me? That asshole Greg that I can’t seem to get out of my head, that’s it. How did Jimmy’s cousin think that he could horn in on her? Was it all Jimmy’s fault that he knew of her in the first place? I should arrange a pounding session with him later. Apparently I can’t trust anyone but myself. That, and maybe Paulie. Certainly not the rest of my family. Vinny sold me out once already. I don’t think I could ever find it in me to forgive him.

God Melanie. That woman has been the source of all my issues these past few months when everything should’ve been simple. I should still be in that bed with her – reminding her that there was no room for another man except me in her life.

But that’s not possible anymore. Great. After a perfectly mind blowing night with her, I managed to accuse her of still seeing Greg. That wasn’t the route I had been planning. I had it all figured out by the time I got her bra off last night. I was going to wake up – maybe repeat some of the events that went on, none the less, but still – not wreck the only real encounter I’ve gotten with her for months. I ran an exasperated hand through my hair and contemplated running back up to her room. I leaned forward on my toes, and swayed back again. Goddammit why did everything have to be so confusing?

Normally, I’d want to keep my pride and just forget what happened and go home. That would be the easy thing to do. But I had this urge that was telling me to go back up there. To apologize – to make things right.

Just as I turned to start my walk of shame back up to her door, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I had no clue how I managed to snag that in my pants, but I did. After a fit of fumbling, I took it out and pressed it against my ear. Paulie was on the other line. I could tell just by his choice of cuss words.

“Shit, Lance. We’ve got a situation.”

“At eight in the morning? What the hell is it, Paul?” I rebucked.

“I know it is, smartass. We’ve got new info on Giorgio.” He explained.

“Well?” I prompted.

“Not over the phone. Meet me at Pops in ten, okay?”

“I’m at NYU. You’ll have to give me more than ten.” I added mildly hoping Paul wouldn’t ask.

“What the hell you doing at NYU?” He asked, much to my demise. A few seconds later, the smartass managed to deduce what my whereabouts meant. “Fuck, Lance, you didn’t sleep with her did you?”

I resisted the urge to rub my temples that had already threatened a migraine from all the shit this morning. “And how is that any of your business, asshole?”

He groaned. “Goddamn. You’re getting way to soft for my liking. Next thing you know you’re gonna be signing up to cook in the kitchen next to Ma’s—”

“Would you quit babbling, you shithead? I’ll be there in fifteen.”

“See ya, loverboy.”

--------------------------------------

My throat was hoarse. My head pounded like it had just been stampeded on by the midday rush of New York entrepreneurs and their Italian soled heels and loafers. My heart was in no such better condition. What did I think was going to happen? That I could wake up from a night with the man I was stuck on – like it or not, Mel – and not be questioned about my relationship with my supposed other boyfriend? Not likely. I had quickly came to the realization that I wasn’t having the best track record when it came to men in New York City. I laughed through pathetic tears. My emotions have never been through such an emotional rollercoaster since my mom died. I had no clue I could feel this way again.

Not that I wanted to experience such a disgusting, ugly feeling of rejection – even if it was deserved.

I took a deep breath to calm myself down only to feel the thundering of my pulse against the back of my eyes. My strained vision stared into the opaque TV screen in the corner of my bedroom. There was nothing I could do now, I thought glumly. Lance was gone. I had a lot of explaining to Lance about Greg not being anywhere near what I wanted – at least where my dating life was concerned. It seemed I liked being a masochist these days. Last night proved to be the result of that.

Just then, my cell phone rang in my purse on the nightstand. Through blurred eyes, I retreated from the bed I had collapsed on to find myself digging vigorously for it. Subconsciously I must’ve thought it would be Lance. It would be Lance telling me that he was on his way back. But I couldn’t hope for such.

I gazed sternly at the tiny Caller-Id screen out of curiosity.

Greg.

Just the fellow I wanted to talk to this morning. After I destroyed the last few occurrences, why not screw up my odd friendship-slash-flirtatious relationship with Greg?

I answered the phone reluctantly. “Hello? Greg?”

There was a pause before I heard Greg’s shallow, cagey voice pierce through the speaker. “Melanie?”

“Ye-es?” My voice elongated the word, instinct telling me something wasn’t right.

He cleared his voice. “Can I meet up with you tonight?”

“Um, I don’t know, Greg – I don’t think that’d be—” I began, wanting to discourage his feelings.

“It’s real important, Mel. Please?”

I caved. It must have been his helpless tone of voice. I sighed. “Where?”

“Ah, how about outside Vincent’s at seven? Is that all right?”

My eyebrows pulled together in remorse. Vincent’s. That restaurant was beginning to be a constant memory in my mind. What would be the probability of Greg’s choices being specifically where Lance would take me on our first date? Apparently, good considering this choice of venue. Out of silent hysterics in my mind trying to be sensible, I say, “Okay. See you there.”
♠ ♠ ♠
Real short, I know :/
This chapter goes out to Liz, or appley92, that gave me the reminder that I left this story straggling on it's last thread. I honestly appreciate her devotion to my story and can't thank her enough for the support! So, Liz, this one is for you :) Hope you like it.
Anyways, back to writing after a while break - and let me tell you, school's been hectic and I can't promise I'll update every week, but I'll try - I hope to take my story to it's limits!
Love lots,
Lauren.