It Takes More

Monday and Tuesday went by rather normally, with the exception of Jack’s presence. I went to class and came home to study before meeting up with a friend or two for dinner. Wednesday was reserved for more brother sister bonding. Jack met me outside my final class of the day; from there we went in search of something to eat.

“So, I talked to Marla,” Jack said hesitantly.

“Well, that’s good. I would hope you two are capable of doing anything that doesn’t require you to be completely naked,” I replied with a straight face.

“Oh, we were naked, but that’s beside the point.” I grimaced at the thought as I threw a green bean from my plate at his face, causing his pout to appear. “What? Okay, seriously. Why didn’t you say anything?” he continued his original thought.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I was lying, but he didn’t have to know that.

“Cow dung!” Okay, maybe he did. “You don’t still like him do you?”

“And now I think you don’t know what your talking about,” I said lowly while idly pushing the contents of my plate around with my fork.

“Come on Elena, I know you saw Alex Saturday night. And I’m sorry, I should have told you he’d be here, but-”

“Hold up,” I cut him off. “You knew he was coming? He was the one on the phone, wasn’t he?” His nervousness a few days ago now made complete sense.

“Uh, yeah?” He looked confused, but continued on. “I told him not to come because I knew it would upset you. If it helps any, he doesn’t know you’re here. I mean, he knows you live in California. But he doesn’t know where. He doesn’t know you live in L.A. Or that I’m visiting you.” He rambled.

That didn’t make me feel much better, honestly. He only came—against Jack’s orders—because he didn’t know I’d be here. Otherwise, I have no doubt he would have heeded Jack’s warnings. He didn’t want to see me.

Taking a deep breath, Jack looked away from me. “I promised that I’d go out with him tonight.” He looked up to see my reaction before jumping into a breathless explanation. “I know, I promised today was all about you and me. But it was the only way to keep him from asking questions about who I know in L.A. that he doesn’t. Don’t be mad,” he pleaded.

“I’m not mad,” I said with no emotion. Jack cocked an eyebrow, silently calling out my lie. “I’m not,” I insisted. “I get it. He’s your best friend. Go have fun.”

“Thanks, Elena,” he said with a cheesy smile. “You seriously are the best sister I’ve ever had!”

“I’m the only sister you’ve ever had,” I laughed.

Jack and I spent the rest of the afternoon together, catching up on lost time, before he hopped into the shower to get ready for a night on the town with Alex. I slumped deep into the couch cushions, watching colors dance across the television, though I couldn’t make them form pictures.

“Hey, grouch,” Marla greeted as she walked through the door, setting her purse on the counter separating the living and dining areas. “Whatcha watching?”

I shrugged my shoulders, having no idea what I was in fact watching. Marla walked in front of me, pulling my feet up so she’d have a place to sit.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I lied.

“Uh, huh. Sure.” After a short pause, her face lit up. “You know what? You need a night out! You me and some shameless flirting with the bad boys of L.A.”

“Yeah, ‘cause Ash would so love that idea. Jack, too.”

“Hey, what they don’t know won’t hurt them. Besides, you need a pick-me-up.”

Agreeing, because truthfully, I didn’t have anything better to do—other than not moving from my current position—I got into the recently vacated shower and tried to place a permanent smile on my face as I dressed to impress.

I chose my favorite pair of high-waist dark denim jeans and a pink floral print bustier. Remembering Marla’s observation about my choice of foot wear mirroring my mood, I slipped into a white pair of wedge ankle boots, lifting my five-foot four frame by two and a half inches.

By the time I met Marla in the living room, Jack had already left to meet up with Alex. Marla called a cab and suggested that in the nature of change, we should go somewhere new.

Half an hour later, I found myself waiting in line to enter a club on the opposite side of town. The bouncer gave me the once-over—twice—before handing my fake ID back to me and stepping aside to let Marla and I in.

“Bar,” Marla stated simply as she took my hand and led us through the throng of people to a bar twice the size of Junkie’s. “Two shots of tequila and a Heineken, please.”

The bartender looked to me next, waiting for my order. “Killer Kool-Aid.” The bartender nodded, turning to grab two shot glasses and a bottle of tequila.

“Here you go, ladies. I’m Phil. If you’d like anything else, just holler,” said before turning to the next customer.

“Okay, ready?” Marla winked at me. “One, two, three.”

We each downed the shot, shaking our heads after. Marla laughed at my twisted up face before taking a sip of her beer and scoping the place out.

“How ‘bout those two?” she asked, pointing across the room to two twenty-something guys dressed to the T, standing at the edge of the dance floor. I rolled my eyes as Marla grabbed the hand that didn’t have a drink in it, not waiting for my answer. “Hey. I’m Marla, and this is my girl Elena. Wanna dance?”

Shameless. If only Jack could see her now.

“Uh, sure?” the taller of the two answered. “I’m Bryson by the way. And this is Marc.”

Marc smiled as Bryson and Marla left them alone. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“I don’t know. I’m sure you’d rather be flirting with someone else,” I said, looking around, trying to keep Marla within eyesight.

“What makes you think I don’t want to flirt with you?” He smiled cockily.

I couldn’t help the laugh that slipped from my lips. “Touché.”