Dirtbag
THIS TIME IT WILL BE A LONG ONE
“Thank fucking God we’re taking a break,” Hanson is panting. “I think I’m going to die. I don’t even break a sweat this much at practice.”
We’re all outside a parking garage, which is kind of weird. Robbie said we were taking a breather and I am contemplating just riding back to the starting point. Everything aches. I forgot I haven’t ridden in a pretty long time.
“They’re supposed to work your entire body,” I say. Hanson gives me this odd look and for a moment I don’t understand. Then something runs into me. Hard.
“Oh my God!” a feminine voice screeches. I whip around and there she is. The girl from the club last Wednesday. She’s holding another girl, who appears to be wasted as hell, up. “I am so sorry. I was walking backwards because she’s a complete mess and I was practically dragging her—Jules, c’mon, you weigh like one-hundred-and-fifty pounds, help me out here—but I am seriously sorry. I hope I didn't mess up your ride or anything.” She gives me a smile that’s bold for just meeting someone.
“No harm done,” I say like a complete fucking idiot. No harm done? I can see the look on Hanson’s face in my head—the one that’s mocking me. I try to get it together but she’s already pulling the drunken girl away. “Hey, do you need some help?”
The girl looks up from her friend and smiles again. This time it’s friendlier, less seductive. “If you’re not some kind of serial killer, then yes. I’d really appreciate it— Goddammit, Jules, I am never taking you out again.”
I help her lift up the drunken chick and follow her over to a red shiny VW bug. It’s not the newer kind; it’s one from the eighties or nineties. I don’t expect it.
“What, you never seen an old school ride?” the girl playfully asks. I chuckle a bit and set her friend in the passenger side. She is now passed out. “God, thanks again. I didn't think I was ever going to make it with her. She’s not huge or anything, but I’m weak as hell. I guess I shouldn’t be saying that to a stranger, though, huh?”
I realize I’m smiling like an idiot and not responding. “Uh, well, have a good night. Get home safe and all that.”
She gives me a fifth or sixth smile and then she’s gone. I don’t even have her number.
We’re all outside a parking garage, which is kind of weird. Robbie said we were taking a breather and I am contemplating just riding back to the starting point. Everything aches. I forgot I haven’t ridden in a pretty long time.
“They’re supposed to work your entire body,” I say. Hanson gives me this odd look and for a moment I don’t understand. Then something runs into me. Hard.
“Oh my God!” a feminine voice screeches. I whip around and there she is. The girl from the club last Wednesday. She’s holding another girl, who appears to be wasted as hell, up. “I am so sorry. I was walking backwards because she’s a complete mess and I was practically dragging her—Jules, c’mon, you weigh like one-hundred-and-fifty pounds, help me out here—but I am seriously sorry. I hope I didn't mess up your ride or anything.” She gives me a smile that’s bold for just meeting someone.
“No harm done,” I say like a complete fucking idiot. No harm done? I can see the look on Hanson’s face in my head—the one that’s mocking me. I try to get it together but she’s already pulling the drunken girl away. “Hey, do you need some help?”
The girl looks up from her friend and smiles again. This time it’s friendlier, less seductive. “If you’re not some kind of serial killer, then yes. I’d really appreciate it— Goddammit, Jules, I am never taking you out again.”
I help her lift up the drunken chick and follow her over to a red shiny VW bug. It’s not the newer kind; it’s one from the eighties or nineties. I don’t expect it.
“What, you never seen an old school ride?” the girl playfully asks. I chuckle a bit and set her friend in the passenger side. She is now passed out. “God, thanks again. I didn't think I was ever going to make it with her. She’s not huge or anything, but I’m weak as hell. I guess I shouldn’t be saying that to a stranger, though, huh?”
I realize I’m smiling like an idiot and not responding. “Uh, well, have a good night. Get home safe and all that.”
She gives me a fifth or sixth smile and then she’s gone. I don’t even have her number.