Winning Back Ryan (5 page)

As the band walked off stage to greet its groupies, I walked back towards the merchandise stand.

              “Where are you going, Annie?” Brian asked.

             
I pointed to the merchandise table and heard Ben say, “Annie here eye fucked the singer the entire time, and now she needs his schedule to stalk him.”

             
I turned around, glaring at Ben.  “So, I eye fuck…or whatever you call it - sexy, half-naked men from time to time when I’ve been drinking all night long. You have sex with any dirty girl with low self-esteem and no standards. I’ve never stopped you from getting with any girl; I’ve never messed up your…” I waved my hands around trying to think of the right word, which was difficult with the amount of alcohol in my blood. “seduction games. I don’t judge you.”

             
He smirked at me. “Actually, I think it’s rather cute that you fantasize about boys on a stage…like my twelve-year-old sister.”

I groaned out loud. He didn’t just call me
that
word. 

             
“I officially hate you. And for the record, just so you know, the next time you call me cute, I’ll….” My fists clenched in rage.

             
“You’ll what?” His eyes taunted me.

             
“I’ll punch you in the balls,” I replied.

             
His smile widened. “You wouldn’t.”

             
I looked him squarely in the eye. “Try me. But, when you’re pissing blood for a week, you can’t blame me, because you’ve been warned.” I pointed to the rest of our friends. “And they all heard me say it.”

             
“I think she means it,” Brian said smugly. When I glanced at him, I was shocked to find him smiling savagely.

I turned around snagging a tour schedule, and picked up the band’s CD. I asked the man behind the booth what the cost was and took the appropriate money out of my wallet to pay him. It was becoming difficult to see straight though, and I held the bill up twice to check the currency. 

              “What was the name of the band playing when I came in?” I asked Ben.

             
He smiled at my question. “The Wailing Wanderers. So, you liked them?”

I nodded my head, and then asked the man for their CD. He found it at the end of the table, and I handed him money. I stuffed the CDs and tour schedule in my purse, turning to find George and Ben eyeing up the women in the place. Brian and Max were chatting about something, but I couldn’t tell what. There was a strange roaring in my ears all of a sudden. I walked over to them, my feet suddenly feeling very heavy.

              “So, are you going to sleep over tonight?” Brian enquired, curiosity in his eyes.

             
“Would you mind?” I asked.

I’d rather Ryan feel the emptiness of the
apartment, remind him of what he was missing out on.

             
“Not at all. You and I haven’t had a sleepover since college.”

             
“Sleepover?  You mean where either you or I passed out in each other’s dorm rooms after cramming all night long for some exam?” I asked, smirking.

             
“Right well,” There was an awkward pause. “This will be like that, but a lot more fun.”

             
I smiled. “I’m in.” I wrapped my arm around his shoulder. “One good thing about me and Ryan being on the outs is that you and I can spend more time together,” I said, affectionately.

             
He smiled brightly. “I know.”

             
“Hey guys, come over here,” I called out to Ben and George, “Before you start your hunt, let’s get a group picture.”

             
“I want a copy of this,” Brian and George said at the same time.

             
“I’ll send one to all of you. “ I took my small digital camera out, and saw a nearby girl with a triple X tattooed across her hand, meaning that she was an extreme straight edge. She’d obviously be sober enough to take the shot of us.

             
“Excuse me.” I tapped her shoulder politely.  She glared up at me with disgust, likely because I reeked of booze. “Would you mind taking a photo of me and my friends?” I pointed back to the guys standing there.

             
She let out a long sigh, but relented. “Alright.” I handed the camera to her, walking back towards the guys as we all posed for the pictures. After she snapped a few, I thanked her, and took my camera back.

             
As I walked back towards the group, I saw a guy tap George on the shoulder. “Hey! Are you that guy from that T.V. show?” The guy blinked slowly, clearly in an alcoholic stupor. “You look like that guy from that show.”

             
“No, I’m not him. I am the guy that fucked your girl last night, though…” George replied darkly. “And made her beg for more.”

I rolled my eyes. Here we go again. We never knew what we would get when George drank. Sometimes he was the sweetest, nicest guy you’d ever met. Sometimes he was a raging asshole. It was night and day, and once he started drinking, there was no way to predict if Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde would show up afterwards.

              “Ben, Brian, grab George!”

             
“Why you piece of-” The guy ran towards George to punch him.

             
“Hey!” I shouted, holding my hands up in the air. “He didn’t sleep with your girlfriend. He doesn’t know you. He’s mouthing off, because…” I had to think of something quick, which was even harder to do because everything just felt so
heavy
. “he just caught his girlfriend sleeping with…his best friend.”

My words stopped the guy in his tracks. The guy glanced at George.

              “Is that true?”

I glared at George, my eyes promising violence if he didn’t agree. I didn’t want to come up with bond money to bail him out of jail. But, more importantly, he’d lose his job if he was arrested. George stared into my eyes, mouth clenched, while Brian and Ben both held onto one of his arms. He nodded his head.

              “Sorry man,” the guy said sympathetically. “Must be difficult being on a T.V. show and having your girl screw around on you. Better luck next time.” The man walked off, while George still murderously glared at me.

             
“You can thank me tomorrow when you step into your office, because you still have your job,” I replied. Some of the anger left his body upon hearing my words.

Ben and Brian let go of his arms, and Brian walked over to me, his eyes signaling that he wanted to leave. I nodded, and then kissed Max, Ben, and George on the cheek before walking out of the club with Brian.

**

             
I was more drunk than I thought, because I remembered very little about how we arrived home. I vaguely remembered a subway and a train being involved, but I was fuzzy on the details. I did somewhat remember trying to talk people on the train into starting a band with me, though, telling some guy he seemed like a natural drummer. But, it was only fragments of memory. The only thing I really remembered much of was Brian’s smile.

             
I woke up hung-over, but well rested.  Looking around, I realized that I was in Brian’s bedroom, and when I glanced down, I sighed in relief that I was still fully clothed. Turning my head, I smiled even in my aching state. The view was just spectacular. Waves were crashing onto the jetty below. I heard the sound of seagulls squawking outside, swooping down to catch fish. The sky was a bright blue, not a cloud in the sky. Views like this were rare at the mouth of N.Y.C. and came with hefty price tags.

             
Looking down at the charcoal-gray colored, silk sheets, I realized that I had never been in Brian’s bed before. That was something we never did- venture into each other’s bedrooms. Our friendship had always been platonic, and we had both always stayed firmly in those boundaries. Well, except the night we met…

             
I looked around the room feeling as though I had entered forbidden territory. There was a large wooden dresser the same color mahogany as all the custom made furniture in Brian’s parents’ home.  The top of the dresser was filled with sports trophies.

             
“Show off,” I muttered under my breath, before glancing around the room at the mounted television and charcoal-gray curtains matching the bedding. The whole room felt very masculine, and I was immediately given the sense that I was in a bachelor pad. On the wall above the bed was a picture of Babe Ruth hitting a baseball. Two other pictures were in the room. One was the movie poster from Swingers, Brian’s favorite movie. The second took me by surprise. It was a digital photo frame, and every picture that flashed before my eyes was of Brian and me spanning the nearly five years that we had known each other. In shock, I stepped out of the bed, walking over to the picture frame right outside his master bathroom.  I covered my mouth, tears trickling down my face. I had forgotten about many of those memories. The picture flashed of us dressing up for Halloween our second year as Bonnie and Clyde- the two of us posed with our backs to each other guns drawn. The picture changed to the trip to his parents’ house when we went fishing in their boat-Brian held up a three foot fish smugly, I held up a seven inch fish and glared at him jealously. The pictures kept flashing- homecoming games, late night diner outings, bar crawls. There were a few pictures with Ryan, Brian, and me from my birthday outings. My arms were around both of them and Ryan glanced sideways at Brian. Sadness filled my heart at the picture. It seemed like a lifetime ago that the picture happened, not just a year ago. A different perspective made just a day feel like a year, though.

             
The door opened, and I turned towards Brian. He had a glass in hand, and his eyes quickly glanced from the photo frame to me.

             
“Here,” he said, holding out the drink. “Drink it.” Without questioning, I did as he asked, drinking the brownish colored liquid. Part of me hoped that it was brandy or bourbon. Nothing beat a little ‘hair of the dog.’  As the drink slid down my throat, the taste, my fuzzy brain recognized, was disgusting. Swallowing, I began coughing. From the corner of my eye, I caught his smirk. “It’s for hang-overs. Disgusting, but effective.” I swallowed the rest, while he folded his arms wearing a black t-shirt and grey basketball shorts, leaning against the wall. 

             
“So, you ready?” he asked.

             
“Yeah, let’s do it. Skinny Annie, here I come!” I still wanted to lose the weight to win back Ryan.

             
He chuckled loudly. “You’re in no condition to go running. We’ll start on Monday. But, I’m forewarning you, you’re going to hate me. But when we’re done, you’re going to love me,” he said. 

             
“Whatever you need to do,” I said, “Just make me skinny.”

He walked out of the room, and I followed not mentioning the picture frame. I looked at the couch and saw a blanket and pillow.

              “Brian, you should have put me on the couch. I’m a guest at your place.”

He shrugged as he walked into the kitchen. I followed, my eyes cringing against the brightness of all the stainless steel appliances; the sunlight bouncing off the metallic finish.

              “Plug your ears,” he said, and I did as I was told because I saw his hand moving towards the blender.  The loud, grinding noise reverberated through my skull all the way down to my toes. It was extremely unpleasant, and I was positive my brain would explode. He finally stopped, took out two tumblers, and poured the blended concoction into the glasses.
Ugh. Not another one of Brian’s health shakes.

             
Whenever Brian started thinking he was getting flabby from too many late night drinking binges, he went on a strange health shake kick. I never asked what was in it. Personally, I didn’t want to know. Brian was one of those freaks who actually had an herb planter in his kitchen. I mean, really, what man had such a thing? I was sure the drink was very healthy- meaning disgusting.

He handed it to me, and I knew immediately that I was in trouble. Looking into the clear glass, I saw that the color was bright green. As a rule, I stayed away from green drinks unless it was St. Patrick’s Day.

              “You have to have one of these every morning,” he told me as I still eyed the glass with disdain.

             
I fought the urge to sigh. “Okay, you have to tell me what’s in it.”

Brian shook his head before taking a sip. I waited for the catch as he swallowed. “You have to come here for your drink every day. That way I know you’re not cheating.”

              I couldn’t help but glare. “Seriously?” I asked and with a smug smile he nodded.

             
“Those are the rules. You’re rethinking staying here for a while now, aren’t you?”

I couldn’t help but nod. Needing to come to his apartment every morning meant I needed to add an extra thirty minutes to my morning routine, so I was not late to work. I’m not a morning person by any stretch of the imagination.